Part 44 (1/2)

'No-one is going to make you do anything,' he said swiftly. 'Is that the harbour outside? Do you have a boat there? I have always liked boats.' The thorns withdrew. Elanin rose from the bed and walked to the window.

'Father doesn't like boats. They make him feel sick.'

'I sometimes feel sick in boats. But I still like them.' He knelt down in front of her. ”When we come to rescue you in the Citadel we need to be able to call you home. We need. . . a secret pa.s.sword so you know it is safe.'

'I am not coming home. Father isn't there. I shall stay here.'

'That is one plan,' he agreed. 'I think it will make Uncle Druss sad.'

'Then he can come here.'

'And what of your friends back in Dros Purdol? They can't come here. This is your special place. I only came because I have a special friend who showed me the way.'

'Ironmask killed Mother too. He cut her up.' Tears welled in the child's eyes. Instinctively Skilgannon reached out and drew her into a hug. He stroked her hair, and patted her back.

'I cannot bring her back,' said Skilgannon. 'I cannot take away your suffering. But you are strong. You are a very brave girl. You will make your own decisions. Let us agree on a pa.s.sword. You can then decide whether to stay here, or come back to Uncle Druss and me.'

'I think you should go now,' she said. 'It is getting late.'

The room spun. Skilgannon was flung through the air, in total darkness. He landed heavily on the ground - just in front of the thorn forest.

'I will see you soon, Elanin,' he called. Then he whispered the name of Ustarte.

Skilgannon opened his eyes. Ustarte was standing by the balcony's edge, looking at him intently. 'How do you feel?' she asked.

'Weary.'

'Drink a little of our water. It will revive you.' The sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly, and a cool breeze flowed across the balcony. Skilgannon filled a crystal goblet and drained it. His limbs felt leaden, as if he had run a great distance.

'You suffered much,' said Ustarte. 'I will be honest, you have surprised me, warrior. You almost died in there.'

'You warned me it could be dangerous.' Strength was seeping back into his limbs.

'That is not what surprised me. Even Druss, I think, would have taken his axe to that thorn thicket. He would certainly have fought the bear.'

'It doesn't matter. I failed. She is too terrified to come out.'

'You have planted a seed. You could do no more. You should rest for a while.'

'Not yet,' said Skilgannon. 'Can you take me to the Citadel once more? I need to see exactly how many soldiers there are, and what their duties.'

'I can tell you the numbers.'

'With respect, lady, I need to see for myself. Four warriors cannot attack the Citadel. If we merely needed to enter and kill Ironmask we could do it. However, I have now seen the child, and the most important duty we have is to rescue her, to bring her safely home. If that is to be even remotely possible I need to know the movements of their troops, their methods and their duties. I need to understand their loyalties. Do they fight for love of Boranius, or for plunder? Everything is against us at this moment. Had we arrived in secret we might have spirited the child away, and then returned for Boranius. But we are not arriving in secret. He knows we are coming. And I know Boranius. He is not a fool.

From what I saw of the Citadel there are only four approaches. He will have scouts out, watching for us. Once we are seen on the open road he will send riders to intercept us.

Even with twenty Druss the Legends we would be overcome, by arrows and spears, if not by swords.' He looked up at her. 'So I ask again that you take me back.'

'Would it make a difference to your plans if I told you that you cannot win, Olek?'

'No,' he said simply.

'And why is that?'

'Not an easy question to answer, lady, and I am too weary to debate it.'

'Then I shall take you back to the Citadel, Olek. Close your eyes.'

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MORCHA SAT OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM. THE GROANS OF PAIN WERE easing now as the surgeon applied narcotic salves to Boranius's ruined face. The burns were severe, and yet strangely had only affected the discoloured skin. The rest of his face and his eyes were completely untouched. After a while the surgeon Morcha had brought from the market town emerged from the bedroom. 'He is sleeping now,' he said. 'I have never seen a wound like it.'

'Nor I,' said Morcha. The sandy-haired officer rose from his seat. 'I thank you for coming,'

he said. The surgeon, a thin-faced man with rounded shoulders, looked at him curiously.

Morcha felt embarra.s.sed suddenly. The man had had no choice. When Ironmask issued a command you either obeyed or died. Sometimes you did both.

'I will need a room close by. When he awakes the pain will return. I need to be here.'

'Of course,' said Morcha.

'I am amazed his sight is not affected. There are no burns to the skin around the eyes. How did this accident occur?'

'I was not present, sir. The Nadir was burned to ashes. Not a bone remained. My lord was mutilated as you saw. Some of the men heard screams from the roof chamber and ran to the room. The door was barred. They heard voices from within - one of them a woman's.

When they finally broke in the woman was gone.'

'Were there other exits?'

'No.'

The surgeon s.h.i.+vered. 'I need to know no more about this,' he said, making the sign of the Protective Horn. 'Show me where I may sleep.'

Morcha took him to a small room on the ground floor. 'I shall send you some food and drink,' he said. 'I hope you will be comfortable.' Once again the surgeon looked at him strangely.

'If you don't mind my asking, young man, how is it that you are here?'

'I do mind your asking,' said Morcha, giving a short bow and leaving the surgeon.

As he walked out into the night the question continued to burn in his mind. He strolled across the open ground then wandered past the warehouses and storage areas, coming at last to the low barracks which housed the soldiers who still followed Boranius. Alongside the barracks was the Long Tavern, where the men relaxed at day's end. The sounds from within were raucous. Morcha did not feel like joining them. He walked on, coming to the now near deserted Nadir area. The death of Nygor had been seen by most of the warriors as an evil omen - especially coming so soon after the killing of the men sent after Deathwalker. Of the hundred Nadir warriors who had inhabited this section only four scouts now remained. The rest had saddled their ponies and ridden off towards the north.

Morcha made his way to the outer defensive wall, and climbed to the ramparts. He found the two sentries on this section in deep conversation. One of them saw him, and leapt to his feet. The other merely stared at Morcha, and remained where he was. 'There are still enemies out there,' said Morcha. 'We need to be alert.'

'Sorry, sir,' said the standing soldier. 'We were just talking about the attack on Ironmask.'