Part 47 (2/2)

Then he heard sounds behind him. Slowly he turned.

A large group of heavily armoured hors.e.m.e.n were sitting their mounts. Their armour was black, their helms full-faced, with high horsehair plumes. Each man carried a lance, and a sword, and a small round s.h.i.+eld, bearing the sign of the Spotted Snake.

The line of hors.e.m.e.n parted and a woman rode in. Diagoras found his pain forgotten as he gazed on her. Her hair was raven dark, and held back in a single braid, through which silver wire had been entwined. She wore a white, flowing cloak, and silver chain mail. Her legs were bare above knee-length riding boots of black leather, embossed with silver.

Lightly she leapt to the ground and approached Diagoras.

Stupidly he tried to bow, but his legs gave way. Stepping in, she caught him.

'If this is a dream,' he said, 'I never want to wake.'

'Where is Skilgannon?' she asked.

Skilgannon stepped across the bodies of the two soldiers and moved forward warily. There were a number of doors on the landing, all of them open. Coming to the first room he stood outside, listening. Hearing nothing he took a deep breath and stepped quickly through the doorway. The first man rushed at him from across the room, sword raised. In that moment Skilgannon heard a whisper of movement from behind. Dropping to one knee he reversed the Sword of Day, ramming it backwards. The curved blade sliced up through the second attacker's belly and clove his heart. The Sword of Night slashed out, half severing the leg of the first man. The man screamed and pitched to the floor. Another soldier loomed in the doorway, holding a crossbow. Skilgannon rolled to his right as the string tw.a.n.ged. The bolt ripped into the carpeted floor. Rising swiftly Skilgannon leapt at the crossbow-man, who dropped his weapon and ran for his life. Out on the landing several more soldiers had arrived. Skilgannon tore into them, spinning and leaping, his blades flas.h.i.+ng. Blood-spattered, he ran on to the second staircase.

The howling of the Joining had ceased now, and Skilgannon guessed it had been cut down.

He ran up the stairs. Another crossbow bolt hissed by his head. Two swordsmen blocked his path. They died. The crossbowman tried another shot. Skilgannon dived forward, rolled on his shoulder, and rose to his feet in one smooth motion. The cross-bowman grunted as the Sword of Day plunged into his heart.

A long corridor connected the third landing to the stairs Druss had taken. Skilgannon could hear the sounds of battle. Taking no time to check the rooms as he pa.s.sed he sprinted along the corridor. He came to two open double doors, leading to a large dining area. Druss was battling furiously against a dozen opponents. Several bodies were already sprawled on the timber floor. The survivors were seeking to circle him, but the axeman spun and whirled, the huge axe glinting in the lantern light. Blood flowed from a cut on Druss's face, and his jerkin had been slashed in several places. His leggings too were damp with blood. A soldier more daring than the rest darted in. His head bounced to the floor, a gush of blood pumping from his severed neck.

Skilgannon ran to Druss's aid. Seeing this new enemy the soldiers tried to reform. Two went down swiftly under the slas.h.i.+ng Swords of Night and Day. Another died, his spine smashed to shards by Druss's axe. The remaining men broke and ran towards the double doors.

Skilgannon stepped in towards Druss. 'How badly are you hurt?' he asked.

'Hurt?' responded Druss. 'Pah! Scratches only.' He was breathing hard and once more looked weary and grey in the face. Only days ago he had been close to death. Skilgannon looked at him, and shook his head. 'Don't be concerned about me, laddie,' said Druss. 'I can still climb the mountain.'

'I don't doubt it, axeman.'

'Then let's find Boranius.'

Druss hefted his axe once more, but Skilgannon paused. 'The child will be with him, Druss,' he said.

'I know.'

'He will seek to make you suffer. It is likely he will kill her in front of you.'

'I know that too.' The old man's eyes were cold now, like polished steel. 'Let's find the wh.o.r.eson, and finish this.'

Together the two warriors headed for the final staircase.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

IN THE ROOF HALL MORCHA WAITED WITH FIVE SWORDSMEN.

Boranius, bare-chested, and wearing his ornate mask of black iron, was sitting on a high- backed chair, the catatonic child Elanin in his lap. There was blood on Boranius's chest, seeping from the four talon marks that scored his skin from shoulder to belly. The huge grey Joining lay on the floor before him, its own body pierced by a score of wounds. It was still breathing, and its golden eyes were open and fixed on Boranius. Its spine was severed and it could not move.

'See the hatred there?' said Boranius, with a harsh laugh. 'How it would love to come at me again.' A large pool of blood was spreading from beneath the dying beast. Boranius took hold of the child's blond hair and tilted her head towards the Joining. 'See there, little one.

Daddy has come for you. Isn't that sweet?'

Morcha looked away.

So, he thought, it all ends here. All the dreams, all the hopes, all the ambitions. He looked around at the decaying roof hall, then back at the blood-smeared man in the black mask.

Boranius was stroking the child's hair, but there was no reaction. Her eyes were open and unblinking. Morcha drew his cavalry sabre. It was a beautiful weapon, with a filigree fist guard and a pommel stone of emerald. It had been given to him by Bokram, as a reward for his loyalty and bravery. He glanced at the five swordsmen, and saw the fear on all their faces. They had all run here from the hall below, where they had faced Druss and Skilgannon. They knew they were going to die.

Morcha swung back to Boranius. 'Lord, if you will just put the child down. We will need you to fight.'

'Oh, I will fight, Morcha. I will kill them both. First, though, you can tire them for me.'

Tire them? Are you insane? Do you not know what is happening here?'

'Skilgannon is coming, and the axeman. Of course I know. How is it that two warriors have breached our defences and are now climbing my stairs? I will tell you, Morcha. It is because I am surrounded by dolts and cowards. After today I will raise a fresh force. Only this time I will pick the fighting men myself. Your judgement has proved to be sadly defective.'

Morcha stood silently for a moment. 'You are right, my lord. My judgement has for years been defective.' Before he could go on the sound of horses' hooves echoed up to them from the courtyard below. Morcha ran to the window and looked out. When he turned away there was a grim smile on his face.

'It seems, Boranius, that you will not be raising a new army -even if you kill Skilgannon and Druss. The Witch Queen is here, with a company of her guards.'

'I'll kill them too,' said Boranius. 'I'll cut the b.i.t.c.h's heart out.'

Skilgannon stepped into the hall, followed by the black-clad axeman. The five Naashanite swordsmen backed away, dropping their blades. Morcha sighed, then glanced at Skilgannon.

'You have done well since those early days,' he said. 'I still have fond memories of the bathhouse.'

'Put up your sword, Morcha. There is no need for you to die here.'

Morcha shrugged. 'There is every need. Defend yourself!' He leapt forward, his sabre slas.h.i.+ng through the air. Skilgannon swayed. A piercing pain shot through Morcha's chest.

He stumbled and dropped his sabre, watching it clatter to the floor. Then he slumped against the wall, and slid down.

'Oh, neatly done,' said Boranius. Rising from his seat, still holding the child, he drew one of his own swords. Resting the blade against Elanin's waist he stepped away from the chair.

'It is good to see you, axeman,' he told Druss. 'I have heard so much about you.'

Druss slowly advanced on the masked figure. Blood seeped through the child's thin blue dress.

'One more step and I will slice her open, and you can watch her entrails fall to the floor.'

Druss paused. 'Excellent choice,' said Boranius. 'Now be so good as to lay your axe down.'

'He will kill her anyway, Druss,' said Skilgannon. 'He is just prolonging the moment.'

'I know what he is doing,' replied Druss, his voice cold. 'I have met his like before. Weak men. They are all the same.' Even as he spoke Druss let Snaga fall to the timber.

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