Part 21 (2/2)

'Are you still with the Naashanite army?'

Skilgannon shook his head. 'The Queen wishes me dead. I am outlawed in Naashan. I'm told there is a large price on my head.'

'Then you are not here as a spy?'

'No.'

'Good enough.' Druss topped up his goblet. Skilgannon smiled.

'Rabalyn tells me you are to be involved in a drinking contest later. Shouldn't you hold off on that wine?'

'A few sips to prepare the belly. This is Lentrian red. I've not tasted a drop for two months.

Are you not a drinker?'

Skilgannon shook his head. 'It tends to make me argumentative.'

Druss nodded. 'And a man with your skills can't afford meaningless arguments. I understand that. I have heard tales of you and the Witch Queen. It is said you were her champion.'

'I was. We were friends once - in the days when she was hunted.'

'It is said you loved her.'

Skilgannon shook his head. 'That doesn't come close. Thoughts of her fill my waking hours, and haunt my dreams. She is an extraordinary woman, Druss; courageous, clever, witty.' He fell silent for a moment. 'Compliments like this fall so far short of the actuality that they seem like insults. I say she was courageous, but it does not paint the reality. I never met anyone more brave. At the battle of Carsis, with the left in rout and the centre crumbling, her generals advised her to flee the field. Instead she donned her armour and rode to the centre where all could see her. She won the day, Druss. Against all the odds.'

'Sounds like you should have married her. Or did she not feel the same way towards you?'

Skilgannon shrugged. 'She said she did. Who can know? But it was politics, Druss. Back in those dangerous days she needed allies. The only treasure she possessed then was her blood line. Had we been wed she could never have gathered enough troops to win back her father's throne. The princes and earls who fought under her banner all hoped to win her heart. She played them all.'

The meal arrived and the two men ate in silence. Finally Druss pushed away his plate.

'You did not mention your own actions at Carsis. The story I heard was that you rallied the broken left flank and led a counter charge. It was that which turned the battle.'

'Yes, I've heard that story,' said Skilgannon. 'It came about because men write the histories. They find it hard to praise a woman in a man's world. I am a soldier, Druss. It is in my blood. Had Jianna not ridden to the front and given the men fresh courage, no action of mine would have made a jot of difference. Bokram's forces had broken the left.

Men were fleeing through the forest. When the Queen arrived Bokram saw her, and pulled back half the cavalry giving chase on the left flank. He turned them back towards the centre. It wasn't a foolish move. Had he succeeded in killing Jianna he could have hunted down the deserting warriors at his leisure. As it was I had a little time to regroup some of the fleeing men. And, yes, it was the counter attack that sundered Bokram's army. Had the Usurper had more courage he would still have won the day. Such is the way of history, though. Ultimately the coward rarely succeeds.'

'The same is true in life,' said Druss. 'So why does she now want you dead?'

Skilgannon spread his hands. 'She is a hard woman, Druss.' He suddenly smiled and shook his head. 'She doesn't take well to disappointment. I left her service without her permission. She sent her lover to find me, to seek the return of a gift she made me. He came with a group of killers. I don't know whether she ordered him to kill me. Perhaps not. In the end, though, it was her lover who lay dead. After that there was a price on my head.'

'Well, laddie, you've been a soldier and a priest. What now?'

'Have you ever heard of the Temple of the Resurrectionists?'

'Can't say as I have.'

'I mean to find it. It is said they can work miracles. I need such a miracle.'

'Where is it?'

'I do not know, Druss. It could be in Namib, or the Nadir lands, or Sherak. It could be nowhere. Just a legend from the past. I shall find out.'

The far door opened. Skilgannon glanced round. 'Ah, your drinking opponent has arrived,'

he said, as the tall young soldier with the trident beard strolled over to the table. 'I'll leave you to talk. I shall take a stroll and breathe in the sea air.'

Diagoras moved into the seat vacated by the Naashanite killer and glanced at the half- empty flagon of Lentrian red. 'I do believe you started without me, old fellow,' he said, lifting it and filling a goblet.

'You need all the help you can get, boy.'

Diagoras watched as the Naashanite left the tavern. 'You are mixing with dark company, Druss. He is a butchering madman.'

'I have been called that myself,' Druss pointed out. 'Anyway, I like him. He came to my aid a few days ago. An evil man would not have risked himself. And he helped a group of refugees against the arena beasts. There's more to Skilgannon than tales of butchery. Did you report his presence?'

'Yes. Gan Sentrin is unconcerned. It seems the d.a.m.ned is no longer an officer of Naashan.

The Witch Queen has put a price on his head. He is an outlaw.'

'Aye, he told me.' Druss settled back in his chair, then rubbed at his eyes. Diagoras thought he looked tired. There was more silver in his beard than there had been at Skein. Time, as the poet once said, was a never ending river of cruelty. Diagoras sipped his wine. He wanted to say more about the vile Skilgannon. He wanted to ask how a hero like Druss could find anything to like about him, but he knew Druss well enough to recognize when the older man was finished with a conversation. His grey eyes would become bleak, and his face harden. Diagoras understood this aspect of him well. In a world of s.h.i.+fting shades of grey Druss the Legend struggled to see everything in black or white. A man was good or evil in Druss's eyes. It was, however, hard to comprehend how he could hold to that view in this case. Druss was no fool. Diagoras sat quietly. The wine was good, and he always enjoyed the company of the older axeman. He might be naive in his view of life, thought Diagoras, but there was always a sense of certainty around him. It was rea.s.suring. After a while he spoke again.

'Did you hear that Manahin is now serving in Abalayn's government?' he asked. 'One of the heroes of Skein. He always has his campaign medal on his cloak.'

'He earned it,' replied Druss. 'Where is yours?'

'Lost it in a dice game a couple of years ago. To be honest, Druss, I lost too many friends there to want to be reminded of it. And I'm sick of people telling me they wish they could have been there with me. d.a.m.n, but I'd give a sack of gold not to have been there.'

'You'll get no argument from me, laddie. I lost friends on both sides. It would be good to think it was all worthwhile.'

The comment shocked Diagoras. 'Worthwhile? It kept us free.'

'Aye, it did. But because of it these eastern lands were plunged into war. It never ends, does it?' Druss drank deeply, then refilled his goblet. 'Ah, don't mind me, Diagoras.

Sometimes the wine brings a darkness to my mind. What news of Orastes's servant?'

'The surgeon gave him something to help him sleep. He was hard used, Druss, and greatly terrified. As far as we can ascertain he was in that dungeon around two months. It is likely Orastes was with him.'

'Imprisoned? It makes no sense. Why?'

'I can't answer that. The situation here has been chaotic. No-one knew what was going on.

For the last few weeks we've kept all the emba.s.sy quarter gates locked. There have been riots, and murders, and hangings. The King went insane, Druss. Utterly. Word is that he ran around his own palace attacking his guards with a ceremonial sword, shouting that he was the G.o.d of War. He was cut down by his own general, Ironmask. That's when the Tantrians surrendered and opened the gates to the Datians. Just as well, in the end. You know what would have happened had the city fallen by storm?'

'Rape, plunder and butchery,' said Druss. 'I know. Skilgannon said it earlier. If the Tantrians had been better led they'd have suffered more. So, why would Orastes have been imprisoned?'

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