Part 25 (2/2)

Then slowly he turned to scan the park, expecting at any moment to see armed men emerge from the under- . growth. No-one came. He glanced at Sashan. She too was shocked, but showed no grief. 'How did my mother die?' she asked.

'She took poison, my dear. It was hidden in a ring she wore. She did not suffer.'

'And Greavas?' asked Skilgannon.

'They tortured him for hours. He was strong, Olek. His courage was towering. In the end, however, bereft of his eyes, his fingers, he told them everything. Then Boranius continued his butchery for sheer pleasure. It did not sate his appet.i.te for inflicting pain. Nothing can.

It is his nature.'

Skilgannon fought to marshal his thoughts. 'How did Boranius find them?' he asked.

'There was a man Greavas trusted.' The old woman shrugged. 'The trust was misplaced - as trust usually is. Now the soldiers are looking for you, Olek Skilgannon. And for the yellow- haired wh.o.r.e who travels with you.'

He stared hard at the ugly old woman. 'Who are you? What is your place in all of this?'

'Hardly the most important questions you need to be asking at this moment. You stand here in a tunic and sandals with . . . what? ... a few silver coins in your pouch? The princess wears a flimsy dress and has no coins. What are your plans, Olek Skilgannon? And yours, Jianna? A thousand men are searching the city for you.'

'And why do you offer us help?' asked Jianna, her voice cool.

'I did not say I would help you, child. I am merely telling you your fortune. Young Olek has paid me for that. My help comes at a much higher price. One thousand raq seems fair to me. Does it seem fair to you?'

'You might as well make it ten thousand,' said the princess. 'At this time I have nothing.'

'Your word will suffice, Jianna.'

'You could make more by betraying us,' said Skilgannon.

'Indeed. If it suited my purposes, young man, I would have done exactly that.'

'If I survive and succeed I shall pay you,' said Jianna. 'What do you advise?'

The old woman lifted a scrawny hand and scratched at a scab upon her face. 'I have a place near by. First we will go there. Then we will plan.'

Skilgannon suddenly groaned. 'Sperian!' he said. 'What of Sperian and Molaire?'

'There is nothing you can do, Olek Skilgannon. They have followed Greavas on the swan's path. Boranius is leaving your house even as we speak. He has left men behind to watch for you.'

'How many?'

'Four. One you know. A short man, with a long moustache.'

'Casensis.'

'An unpleasant fellow. He also joys in pain. He is not as naturally skilled in the arts of torture as your friend Boranius. But his pleasure in it is equal.'

Skilgannon felt a sick pain gnaw at his stomach. Rage threatened to overwhelm him, and he fought for calm. Darkness had fallen now, and a cool wind was blowing across the deserted park. 'I have no proof that any of this is true,' he said at last.

'You know where to find it, Olek Skilgannon,' she pointed out.

'We must go home,' he said to Jianna.

'That would be senseless,' the princess replied. 'If she is right there are men waiting. I'll not be taken.'

'I cannot leave you with her. She may seem helpful, but I sense the evil in her.'

Jianna rose from the bench, her eyes angry. 'You do not have the right to leave me anywhere. Nor take me anywhere. I am Jianna. My life is in my hands. Despite all you have seen of me you still think of me as a delicate female who needs protecting. Would you be so concerned if I was a young prince? I think not. Well, Jianna is stronger than any young prince, Olek. Malanek trained me well. Go to your house if you must. I shall travel with her.'

'Such wisdom in the young,' said the old woman. 'A pleasure to see it.'

Jianna ignored her. 'Do not be foolish, Olek. They will take you and torture you.'

'It is not foolishness,' said the old woman suddenly, 'for he is not a foolish man.' She looked up at Skilgannon. 'You need to see the truth, Olek. And more.' He felt her eyes upon him. She swung to Jianna. 'Let him go, princess. The sights he will witness will make him stronger. The actions he takes will bring him to sudden manhood.' With a grunt she pushed herself to her feet. 'If you survive, Olek Skilgannon, go to the Street of Carpenters.

You know it?'

'Yes.'

'Halfway down there is an alley, which runs alongside an old inn. Follow it and you will find yourself in a small square. At the centre is a public well. Wait by the well. I will fetch you, if it is safe.'

'Where will you be?'

'Best you do not know,' said the old wpman. 'Boranius carries a number of implements designed to elicit information speedily. One is a beautifully crafted - yet small - set of shears. It can snip a finger with one long squeeze.'

Skilgannon looked into her ugly face and saw the glint of malicious pleasure in her eyes.

'How would you know of his . . . shears?'

'I made them for him, Olek Skilgannon. I make many things. I made the ring the Empress wore, which contained the poison. I cast the runes for the Emperor on the birth of his daughter, and warned him that her life would be fraught with peril. Which is why she was trained like a man, with Malanek as her tutor. I even made a sword for the Emperor Gorben.' She laughed, the sound harsh and dry, like windblown leaves rustling across a graveyard. 'I fear I made that one too powerful. It has gone to his head. But I digress ... If you survive I shall come to you.'

'I do not like this plan,' said Jianna.

'If he survives he will be more useful to you,' said the old woman. Skilgannon stepped in to Jianna, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He stood for a moment. 'I love you,'

he said. Then he turned and loped away into the darkness.

He took a circuitous route back to the house, approaching it from the rear, moving on his belly across the paddock field behind the main garden. The night was cloudy, and he timed his movements to match the moments that the moon was obscured. Reaching the garden wall he rose soundlessly to his feet and paused. Despite everything the old woman had said there was a part of him that could not believe it - did not dare believe it. Once he climbed the wall he would find Sperian and Molaire sitting in the house waiting for him. Doubt struck him. He stood very still, aware that as long as he stood here the world was as he had always known it. The moment he climbed the wall everything might change. His emotions in turmoil, he did not know what to do. For the first time in his life he was truly terrified.

You cannot just stand here, he told himself. Taking a deep breath he leapt high, hooking his fingers over the rim of the wall. Drawing himself up, he rolled across the parapet and dropped to the earth below. Lanterns were burning inside the house, but he could see no movement. Keeping low, he crept to the shed where Sperian kept his tools. Inside he found a sharp pruning knife with a short, curved blade and a wooden handle.

Armed with this he darted across the garden and into the building. In the doorway he paused and listened. He could hear no sounds. Moving further inside, and avoiding the windows opening to the front of the house, he checked the main living room. It was empty.

Further on he heard strange, gurgling sounds. Taking a deep breath he pushed open the door to the kitchen. A lantern had been set on the table, and by its light he saw the blood- covered, mutilated body of Sperian. Blood had also splashed to the walls of the cupboards, and had seeped across the floor. The dying man made a sound, blood bubbling from a puncture wound in his throat. Dropping the pruning knife Skilgannon knelt beside him.

Sperian lifted a hand. It had no fingers. His face had been slashed with a knife, the skin hanging from the wounds. His eyes had been put out. 'Oh, my friend!' said Skilgannon, his voice breaking. 'Oh, what have they done to you?'

Sperian jerked at the sound of his voice, and tried to speak. No articulate sound came.

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