Part 49 (1/2)

'If it will free you, then do it,' he said, facing her.

'Is the child well again?'

'Yes. As well as anyone can be who has suffered so much. Her mother was killed, her father is dead. She will have to live with those memories all her life. As you have, Garianne. What happened at Perapolis was evil. It was monstrous. For my actions there I am known - will always be known - as the d.a.m.ned. My guilt is certain. Do what you must.'

'We ... I ... cannot live like this any more.'

'Then don't,' he said. 'Aim your bow. Find your freedom.'

The crossbow came up. Skilgannon took a deep breath and prepared for the bolt to strike.

Yet she did not release the shaft. 'I don't know what to do. There is a voice I have not heard before.' Turning away from him she looked down at the stone courtyard far below.

Skilgannon guessed her intention.

'Don't!' he called, his voice commanding. 'Look at me, Garianne. Look at me!' Her head came up, but she was still perched on the very edge of the battlements. 'Your death would only make the horror of Perapolis complete. You survived. Your parents would have joyed in the thought of you living on. Their lives, their blood, are in you. You are their gift to the future. You leap from here, and their line has ended. Your father did not hide you so that you could end in this way. He loved you, and he wanted you to have a life. To find love as he perhaps found love. To have children of your own. In that way he lives on. I would sooner you sent a bolt into my heart than watch you do this to yourself.'

'He is right, child,' said the Old Woman. 'Kill him and be free. Call it punishment, call it justice, call it what you will. But do what you are here for.'

'I can't,' she said.

'You stupid coward!' shouted the Old Woman. 'Must I do everything myself?' She extended a bony hand towards Garianne. The girl screamed in pain and jerked upright. Her arm spasmed, and the crossbow once more rose.

Skilgannon swung towards the Old Woman. She was chanting now, the words in a tongue he had never heard.

Suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway behind her. A silver blade burst from the Old Woman's chest, then slid back. The crone staggered forward, and fell, her staff clattering across the stone. She struggled to her knees, a large blood stain spreading across her breast. Slowly she turned, and saw Jianna standing in the doorway, the Sword of Fire in her hand. The Old Woman's head dipped and she tugged the black veil from her face.

Skilgannon saw blood upon her lips. Then she spoke. 'Love . . . blinds us ... to peril,' she said. And slumped dead to the battlement floor.

On the ramparts Garianne cried out and began to fall. Skilgannon spun, took two running steps and hurled himself at her. His left hand grabbed at her tunic, his right hit a stone crenellation. His fingers slipped clear and he began to fall. Desperately he scrabbled at the stone, ripping the skin from his fingers. His hand hooked onto an inch-wide ledge some three feet below the battlements. Garianne was a dead weight, and the muscles of his arms were stretched to the point of tearing.

Jianna appeared above him. 'Let the girl go. I'll haul you up.'

'I cannot.'

'd.a.m.n you, Olek! You'll both die!'

'She is ... the last survivor ... of Perapolis.' His blood-covered hand was giving way. He grunted and tried to cling on.

Jianna climbed over the ramparts, lowering herself to the thin ledge. Holding to a crenellation she reached down, clamping her hand over his wrist. 'Now we all go, idiot!'

she said. Her added strength allowed him to hang on, but he could feel his endurance seeping away. All Jianna had bought him were a few moments.

Suddenly he felt Garianne's weight lessen. Looking down he saw that Druss had climbed out of the window of the roof hall, and was standing on the ledge, supporting the unconscious girl. 'Let her go, laddie! I have her.' Gratefully he released his grip. Garianne slid down into Druss's arms. Freed of the weight Skilgannon swung his left arm over the lip of stone and, as Jianna made way for him, climbed back to the battlements.

Jianna took his hand and wiped away the blood. His fingers were deeply gashed, and more blood pumped from the wounds. 'We almost died. Was she worth it?' she asked softly.

'Worth more than the Witch Queen and the d.a.m.ned? I would say so.'

'Then you are still the fool, Olek,' she snapped. 'I have no time for fools.' Yet she did not move away.

'We need to say goodbye,' he said.

'I don't want to say it,' she told him. Leaning in he kissed her lips. Malanek and several soldiers arrived on the battlements. They stood back respectfully as Jianna put her arms round Skilgannon's neck.

'We are both fools,' she whispered.

With that she swung away from him and, followed by her men, returned to the roof hall.

Skilgannon remained on the battlements. After a while he saw the Naashanites mount their horses and ride from the Citadel.

Druss joined him, Elanin beside him, holding his hand. 'Well, laddie, we did what we set out to do.'

'How is Diagoras?'

'Puncture wound over the hip, and a cut to his shoulder. He'll make it back to the temple.'

'And Garianne?'

'She's sleeping. Diagoras is with her. The twins didn't make it. Died together in the courtyard. It's a d.a.m.ned shame, but I think that's what Jared wanted. They were good lads.' The axeman sighed. 'Will you come with us?'

'No. I'll head north.'

Druss put out his hand, then noticed the gashes on Skilgannon's fingers. Clamping his hand instead to Skilgannon's shoulder he said: 'I hope you find what you are looking for.'

'And you, my friend.'

'Me?' Druss shook his head. 'I'm going home to my cabin. I'll sit on my porch and watch sunsets. I am way too old for this sort of life.'

Skilgannon laughed. Druss scowled at him. 'I am serious, laddie. I'll hang Snaga on the wall and put my helm and jerkin and gauntlets into a chest. By Heaven, I'll even padlock it and throw away the key.'

'So,' said Skilgannon, 'I have witnessed the last battle of Druss the Legend?'

'Druss the Legend? You know I have always hated to be called that.'

'I'm hungry, Uncle Druss,' said Elanin, tugging on his arm.

'Now that is a t.i.tle I do like,' said the old warrior, lifting the child into his arms. 'That is who I will be. Druss the Uncle. Druss the Farmer. And a pox on prophecies!'

'What prophecy?'

Druss grinned. 'A long time ago a seer told me I would die in battle at Dros Delnoch. It was always a nonsense. Delnoch is the greatest fortress ever built, six ma.s.sive walls and a keep.

There's not an army in the world could take it - and not a leader insane enough to try.'

EPILOGUE USTARTE STOOD ON HER BALCONY, STARING DOWN AT THE INNER gardens. Little Elanin was braiding small white flowers into a crown for the powerful bearded man sitting alongside her at the pool's edge. Diagoras was silting quietly on a marble bench, watching them.

The servant, Weldi, came up to her. 'Garianne has returned the Grey Man's crossbow to the museum, priestess,' he said. She nodded, and continued to gaze upon the child and the warrior. Elanin reached up and Druss dipped his head, accepting the crown of blooms.

'Why did the voices leave her?' asked Weldi.