Druss tore himself free of Bardan’s grip and thundered a punch to the warrior’s chin. Bardan grunted and toppled from the bridge. His hand snaked out to grab Druss’s arm - the wrenching grasp almost pulled Druss over the edge.
Bardan hung above the river of fire, his pale eyes looking up into Druss’s face.
“Ah, but you’re a bonnie fighter, laddie,” said Bardan softly. Druss got a grip on the other man’s jerkin and tried to pull him up on to the bridge.
“Time to die at last,” said Bardan. “You were right. It was the axe, always the axe.” Releasing his hold, he smiled. “Let me go, boy. It’s over.”
“No! Damn you, take my hand!”
“May the gods smile on you, Druss!” Bardan twisted up and hit out at Druss’s arm, dislodging his grip. The bridge swayed again and the black and silver warrior fell. Druss watched him fall, spinning down, down, until he was just a dark speck swallowed up by the river of fire.
Pushing himself to his knees he glanced at the axe. Red smoke swirled from it to form a crimson figure - the skin scaled, the head horned at the temples. There was no nose, merely two slits in the flesh above a shark-like mouth.
“You were correct, Druss,” said the demon affably. “He was weak. As was Cajivak, and all the others. Only you have the strength to use me.”
“I want no part of you.”
The demon’s head lifted and his laughter sounded. “Easy to say, mortal. But look yonder.” At the far end of the bridge stood the Chaos Beast, huge and towering, its taloned paws glinting, its eyes glowing like coals of fire.
Druss felt a swelling of despair and his heart sank as the axe-demon stepped closer, his voice low and friendly. “Why do you hesitate, Man? When have I failed you? On the ship of Earin Shad, did I not turn away the fire? Did I not slip in Cajivak’s grasp? I am your friend, Mortal. I have always been your friend. And in these long and lonely centuries I have waited for a man with your strength and determination. With me you can conquer the world. Without me you will never leave this place, never feel the sun upon your face. Trust me, Druss! Slay the beast - and then we can go home.”
The demon shimmered into smoke, flowing back into the black haft of the axe.
Druss glanced up to see the Chaos Beast waiting at the far end of the bridge. It was even more monstrous now: massive shoulders beneath the black fur, saliva dripping from its huge maw. Stepping forward, Druss gripped the haft of Snaga, swinging the blades into the air.
Instantly his strength returned, and with it a soaring sense of hatred and a lust to cleave and kill. His mouth was dry with the need for battle, and he moved towards the flame-eyed bear. The beast waited with arms at its sides.
It seemed to Druss then that all the evil of the world rested in the creature’s colossal frame, all the frustrations of life, the angers, the jealousies, the vileness - everything that he had ever suffered could be laid upon the black soul of the Chaos Beast. Fury and madness made his limbs tremble and he felt his lips draw back in a snarl as he lifted high the axe and ran at the creature.
The beast did not move. It stood still, arms down and head drooping.
Druss slowed in his charge. Kill it! Kill it! Kill it! He reeled with the intensity of his need to destroy, then looked down at the axe in his hand.
“No!” he shouted, and with one tremendous heave hurled the axe high in the air and out over the chasm. It spun glistening towards the ribbon of flame, and Druss saw the demon spew from it, blackagainst the silver of the blades. Then the axe struck the river of fire. Exhausted, Druss turned back to face the beast.
Rowena stood alone and naked, her gentle eyes watching him.
He groaned and walked towards her. “Where is the beast?” he said.
“There is no beast, Druss. Only me. Why did you change your mind about killing me?”
“You? I would never hurt you! Sweet heaven, how could you think it?”
“You looked at me with hate and then you ran at me with your axe.”
“Oh, Rowena! I saw only a demon. I was bewitched! Forgive me!” Stepping in close he tried to put his arms around her, but she moved back from him.
“I loved Michanek,” she said.
He sighed and nodded. “I know. He was a good man - perhaps a great one. I was with him at the end. He asked me… urged me to look after you. He didn’t need to ask that of me. You are everything to me, you always were. Without you there was no light in my life. And I’ve waited so long for this moment. Come back with me, Rowena. Live!”
“I was looking for him,” she said, tears in her eyes, “but I couldn’t find him.”
“He’s gone where you cannot follow,” said Druss. “Come home.”
“I am both a wife and widow. Where is my home, Druss? Where?”
Her head drooped and bright tears fell to her cheeks. Druss took her in his arms, drawing her in to him. “Wherever you choose to make your home,” he whispered,”I will build it for you. But it should be where the sun shines, and where you can hear the birdsong, smell the flowers. This place is not for you - nor would Michanek want you here. I love you, Rowena. But if you want to live without me I will bear it. Just so long as you live. Come back with me. We’ll talk again in the light.”
“I don’t want to stay here,” she said, clinging to him. “But I miss him so.”
The words tore at Druss, but he held her close and kissed her hair. “Let’s go home,” he said. “Take my hand.”
