Druss opened his eyes and drew in a great gulp of air. Beside him Rowena slept. He felt a moment of panic, but then a voice spoke. “She is alive.” Druss sat up, and saw the Old Woman sitting in a chair by the bedside.
“You want the axe? Take it!”
She chuckled, the sound dry and cold. “Your gratitude is overwhelming, axeman. But no, I do not need Snaga. You exorcised the demon from the weapon and he is gone. But I shall find him. You did well, boy. All that hatred and lust for death - yet you overcame it. What a complex creature is Man.”
“Where are the others?” asked Druss.
Taking up her staff, she eased herself to her feet. “Your friends are sleeping. They were exhausted and it took little effort to send them deep into dreams. Good luck to you, Druss. I wish you and your lady well. Take her back to the Drenai mountains, enjoy her company while you can. Her heart is weak, and she will never see the white hair of a human winter. But you will, Druss.”
She sniffed and stretched, her bones creaking. “What did you want with the demon?” asked Druss as she made her way to the door.
She turned in the doorway. “Gorben is having a sword made - a great sword. He will pay me to make it an enchanted weapon. And I shall, Druss. I shall.”
And then she was gone.
Rowena stirred and woke.
Sunlight broke through the clouds and bathed the room.
Drenai 6 - The First Chronicles of Druss The Legend
BOOK FOUR: Druss the Legend
Prologue
Druss took Rowena back to the lands of the Drenai, and, with the gold presented to him by a grateful Gorben, bought a farm in the high mountains. For two years he lived quietly, struggling to be a loving husband and a man of peace. Sieban travelled the land, performing his songs and tales before princes and courtiers, and the legend of Druss spread across the continent.
At the invitation of the King of Gothir Druss travelled north, and fought in the Second Campaign against the Nadir, earning the title Deathwalker. Sieban joined him and together they travelled through many lands.
From the Second Chronicles of Druss the Legend.
And the legend grew.
Between campaigns Druss would return to his farm, but always he would listen for the siren call to battle and Rowena would bid him farewell as he set off, time and again, to fight, what he assured her, would be his last battle.
Faithful Pudri remained at Rowena’s side. Sieban continued to scandalise Drenai society and his travels with Druss were usually undertaken to escape the vengeance of outraged husbands.
In the east the Ventrian Emperor, Gorben, having conquered all his enemies, turned his attention to the fiercely independent Drenai.
Druss was forty five, and once more had promised Rowena there would be no more journeying to distant wars.
What he could not know was, this time, the war was coming to him.
The Battle of Skeln Pass
Druss sat in the sunshine, watching the clouds glide slowly across the mountains, and thought of his life. Love and friendship had been with him always, the first with Rowena, the latter with Sieben, Eskodas and Bodasen. But the greater part of his forty-five years had been filled with blood and death, the screams of the wounded and dying.
He sighed. A man ought to leave more behind him than corpses, he decided. The clouds thickened, the land falling into shadow, the grass of the hillside no longer gleaming with life, the flowers ceasing to blaze with colour. He shivered. It was going to rain. The soft, dull, arthritic ache had begun in his shoulder. “Getting old,” he said.
“Who are you talking to, my love?” He turned and grinned. Rowena seated herself beside him on the wooden bench, slipping her arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. His huge hand stroked her hair, noting the grey at the temples.
“I was talking to myself. It’s something that happens when you get old.”
She stared up into his grizzled face and smiled. “You’ll never get old. You’re the strongest man in the world.”
“Once, princess. Once.”
“Nonsense. You hefted that barrel of sand at the village fair right over your head. No one else could do that.”
“That only makes me the strongest man in the village.”
Pulling away from him, Rowena shook her head, but her expression, as always, was gentle. “You miss the wars and the battles?”
“No. I… I am happy here. With you. You give my soul peace.”
“Then what is troubling you?”
