Part 22 (1/2)

'We can make little sense of it, Druss. All I have been able to learn is that his reasons for coming to Mellicane were personal and not official. Every day he went out into the city, sometimes with his servant, sometimes without. You'll need to speak to the man, but be aware, my friend, that Orastes is probably dead.'

'If he is,' said Druss coldly, 'I'll find the men who did it, and the men who ordered it.'

'Well, if you're still here in four days I'll join you,' said Diagoras. 'My commission runs out then and I'm leaving the army. I'll help you find out what happened, then I'll head back to Drenan. Time I got married and sired a few sons to look after me when I'm in my dotage.'

'I'll be glad to have you, laddie. Put enemies in front of me and I know just how to deal with them. But this search has me foxed.'

'There was a rumour Orastes was seen heading southeast about a month ago. It must have been put out by those who had him imprisoned. Is that where you've been?'

'Aye. He was said to be riding his white gelding, and accompanied by a group of soldiers. It turned out to be a merchant who bore a pa.s.sing resemblance to Orastes, tall, plump and fair-haired. The soldiers were his bodyguards. I caught up with them in a market village sixty miles from here. The gelding had belonged to Orastes. The merchant had a bill of sale, signed by the earl. I know his handwriting. It was genuine.'

'Well, tomorrow - hopefully - we'll be able to speak with the servant. Now, are you ready for that drinking contest?'

'No, laddie,' said Druss, 'tonight the meal and the drinks are on me. We'll sit and do what old soldiers are renowned for. We'll talk about past days and old glories. We'll discuss the problems of the world, and - as the wine flows - we'll come up with a hundred grand ideas to put everything to rights.' He chuckled. 'And when we wake tomorrow with aching heads we'll have forgotten all of them.'

'Sounds good to me,' said Diagoras, raising his hand and summoning the tavern girl. 'Two flagons of Lentrian red, my dear, and some larger goblets, if you please.'

Skilgannon wandered along the dock, skirting the quays where weary men were still unloading cargo. The sounds of the sea lapping against the harbour walls was soothing, as was the smell of seaweed and salt air.

Mellicane had been lucky this time. They had surrendered early. There had been little time for simmering angers to build into blind hatreds among the besieging troops. The longer a siege went on, the more the darkness swelled in the hearts of the besiegers. Men would lose friends, or brothers, to sniper fire or accident. They would stare at the ramparts, anger building, and dream of revenge. Once the walls were breached the invaders would swarm through the city like avenging demons, hacking and killing until the insanity of rage was purged from their hearts.

He s.h.i.+vered, recalling the horrors of Perapolis. The people of Mellicane probably felt themselves safe now, with this small war at an end. Skilgannon wondered how they would feel when the armies of Naashan descended upon them.

I will be long gone by then, he decided.

Walking out to a deserted jetty he stood and watched the reflected moon, lying broken upon the waves. Jianna would probably already have men searching for him. One day they would find him. They would step from a darkened alleyway, or emerge from the shadows of the trees. Or they would come upon him as he was sitting quietly in a tavern, his mind on other matters. It was unlikely they would announce their presence, or seek to fight him, man to man. Even without the Swords of Night and Day Skilgannon was deadly. With them he was almost invincible.

He heard stealthy footfalls on the planks behind him and turned. Two men were moving towards him. They were dressed in ragged clothes, which were wet through. Both carried knives in their hands. He guessed they had entered the water below the emba.s.sy quarter gates and had swum through to the docks. Both were thin, haggard and middle-aged.

Skilgannon watched them as they approached. 'Give us your coin,' demanded the first, 'and you'll not get hurt.'

'I will not be hurt anyway,' said Skilgannon. 'Now best you be on your way, for I have no wish to kill you.' The man's shoulders sagged, but his comrade pushed past him and rushed at Skilgannon. The warrior blocked the knife thrust with his forearm, hooked his foot behind the man's leg and sent him cras.h.i.+ng to the deck. As his a.s.sailant struggled to rise Skilgannon trod on his knife hand. The attacker cried out in pain, the knife slipping from his fingers. Skilgannon scooped it up. 'Stay where you are,' he told the fallen man, then turned to his comrade. 'This is not an enterprise to which you are suited,' he said.

'What do you think you are doing here?'

'There's no food,' said the man. 'My children are crying with hunger. All of this,' he added, waving his arm at the food s.h.i.+ps being unloaded in the distance, 'is going to the homes of the rich. I'll not watch my children starve. I'd sooner die myself.'

'And that is what you will do,' said Skilgannon. 'You will die.' With a sigh he tossed the knife to the deck, then dipped his hand into his money pouch, producing a heavy golden coin. 'Take this to the tavern and purchase some food. Then go home and forget this foolishness.'

The second man lurched to his feet, knife in hand. 'No need to take crumbs from this b.a.s.t.a.r.d's table, Garak,' he said. 'Look at his money pouch. It's bulging. We can have it all.

Let's take him!'

'You have a decision to make, Garak,' said Skilgannon. 'Here is a coin honestly offered.

With it you can feed your family for a month. The alternative is never to see them again in this world. I am not a forgiving man, and I offer no second chances.'

The knifemen exchanged glances. In that moment Skilgannon knew they would attack, and he would kill them. Two more lives would be wasted. Garak's children would lose their father, and Skilgannon would have two more souls upon his conscience. Then, as always, his mind cleared. He could feel the weight of the scabbard on his back, the need to draw the Swords of Night and Day, to feel his fingers curl round the ornate ivory handles, to see the blades slice through flesh, and blood gus.h.i.+ng from severed arteries. Skilgannon made no effort now to quell the growing hunger.

'Brother Lantern!' came the voice of Rabalyn. Skilgannon did not turn, but kept his eyes on the two men. He heard the youth walking along the jetty, and saw Garak's gaze flick towards him.

As the deadly moment pa.s.sed Skilgannon's anger rose. He fought for control.

'I'll take the coin, master,' said Garak, sheathing his knife. The haggard man sighed. These are terrible times. I am a furniture maker. Just a furniture maker.'

Skilgannon stood stock still, then drew in a deep breath. It took every effort of his will not to cut the man down. Silently he handed him the coin. Garak gestured to his comrade, who stood for a moment, staring malevolently at Skilgannon. Then both men walked along the jetty, past Rabalyn.

Skilgannon moved to the jetty rail and gripped it with trembling hands.

'Druss told me you had gone for a walk. I am sorry if I disturbed you,' said Rabalyn.

'The disturbance was a blessing.' The blood l.u.s.t began to fade. Skilgannon glanced at the lad. 'So, what are your plans, Rabalyn?'

The youth shrugged. 'I don't know. I wish I could go home. Perhaps I shall stay in the city and seek work.'

Skilgannon saw the boy staring at him, and knew that he was waiting for an invitation.

'You cannot come with me, Rabalyn. Not because I do not like your company. You are fine and brave. I like you greatly. But there are people hunting me. One day they will find me. I have enough death on my conscience without adding you to the list. Why don't you take Braygan's advice, and join him at the temple?'

The youth's disappointment showed. 'Maybe I will. May I keep the s.h.i.+rt? I have no other clothes.'

'Of course you may.' Skilgannon fished another coin from his pouch. 'Take this. Ask the priests to exchange it for silver and copper coins. Then you can purchase another tunic and some leggings that fit more closely. What is left will allow you to pay the priests for your lodgings.'

Rabalyn took the coin and stared at it. 'This is gold,' he said.

'Aye, it is.'

'I have never held gold. One day I will pay you back. I promise.' He stared hard at Skilgannon. 'Are you all right? Your hands are trembling.'

'I am just tired, Rabalyn.'

'I thought you were going to fight those men.'

'It would not have been a fight. Your arrival saved their lives.'

'Who were they?'

'Just men, seeking to find food for their families.' A cool breeze whispered across the water.

'Do you have a family?' asked Rabalyn.

'I did once. Not now.'

'Doesn't it make you lonely? I have felt lonely ever since Aunt Athyla died.'

Skilgannon took a deep, calming breath. He felt his body relax, and the trembling in his hands ceased. 'Yes, I suppose it does.'

Rabalyn moved alongside Skilgannon and rested his arms on the jetty rail. The moon shone broken on the lapping sea. 'I never thought about it before. I used to get really annoyed with Aunt Athyla. She'd fuss over me constantly. Once she had . . . gone I realized there wasn't anyone who'd fuss over me again. Not in the same way, if you know what I mean?'

'I know. After my father died I was raised by two kindly people, Sperian and Molaire.