himself by slaying a dragon, or some such, and he would do it in a sneaky way that the children loved. Rabalyn’s dislike for those tales centred on the endings. It always turned out that the stable lad was the secret son of a great king, or a wizard. Princesses, it seemed, just didn’t fall in love with common folk.
Beside him the axeman was snoring softly. ‘You are not really a light sleeper,’ whispered Rabalyn.
‘Don’t let appearances fool you,’ answered the axeman. Rabalyn laughed, and added a chunk of wood to the fire. Druss sat up and yawned.
‘Were you the youngest son?’ asked Rabalyn.
The old warrior shook his head and scratched at his black and silver beard. ‘I was the only son.’
‘Did you ever fall in love with a princess?’
'No. My friend Sieben was the man for loving princesses. Well, princesses, duchesses, maids, courtesans. Anyone, really. He ended up marrying a Nadir warrior woman. That’s when he started to lose his hair.’
‘Did she put a spell on him?’
The axeman laughed. ‘No, boy, she just wore him out.’ For a while they talked. The fire was warm, the night peaceful. Rabalyn told the axeman about his Aunt Athyla and their little house, and how he had always dreamed of being a great warrior.
‘All boys want to be warriors,’ muttered Druss. ‘That’s why so many of them die young. We don’t achieve anything, you know, Rabalyn. At best we fight so that other men can achieve something. We’re not even important.’
‘I think you are important,’ objected Rabalyn.
The axeman laughed. ‘Of course you do. You’re young. A farmer ploughs the land, and grows crops. The crops feed the cities. In the cities men make laws, so that youngsters like you can grow in peace and learn. People marry and have children, and they teach them to respect the land and their fellow citizens. Philosophers and poets spread knowledge. The world grows. Then along comes a warrior, with a shining sword and a burning brand. He burns the farm and kills the farmer. He marches into cities and rapes the wives and maidens. He plants hate like a seed. When he comes there are only two choices. Run away — or send for men like me.’
‘But you are not like the killers and the rapers.’
‘I am what I am, boy. I try to make no excuses for my life. I wasn’t strong enough to be a farmer.’
This confused Rabalyn, who had never seen a stronger man. No farmer could have stood against the beasts as this man had. Rabalyn threw some sticks on the fire and watched them blaze.
‘How did the Immortals lose at Skein?’ he asked.
‘They faced better fighters on the day.’
‘Better fighters than you?’
‘You are a bottomless pit of questions.’
‘There’s so much I don’t know.’
‘Ah, well, we are not so unalike then, Rabalyn. There is so much I don’t know.’
‘But you are old and wise.’
The axeman stared hard at the boy. ‘I’d be happier if you stopped talking about my age. Bad enough living this long, without there being constant reminders.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘And I’m not wise, Rabalyn. Had I been wise I would have stayed home with the woman I loved. I’d have farmed and planted trees. I’d have raised cattle, and sold them at market. Instead I found wars and battles to fight.
Old and wise? I’ve met wise men who were young, and stupid men who were old. I’ve met good men who did evil things, and evil men who tried to do good. It’s all beyond my understanding.’
‘Did you have children?’
‘No. I regret that. Though I have to say that I get tense around the very young. The screaming and the squalling grates on me. I’m not a great lover of noise. Or people, come to that. They irritate me.’
‘Do you want me to stop talking?’
‘Laddie, you came down that tree and probably saved my life. You can talk as much as you like. Sing and dance if you want to. I may be cantankerous, but I’m never ungrateful. I owe you.’
Rabalyn felt a surge of pride. He wished he could hold on to this moment for ever. The silence grew. Rabalyn listened to the crackle of burning wood, and felt the night breeze blowing against his skin. He looked back at the axeman. ‘If you truly are like those killers who attack cities then why did you help those people when the soldiers were killing them?’
‘Had to, laddie. It’s the code.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Rabalyn.
‘That’s the only difference between me and the killers. They see what they want and they take it. They have become just like those beasts we slew tonight. Outwardly they look like the rest of us. Under the skin they are savage and cruel. They have no mercy. That beast is in me too, Rabalyn. I keep it chained. The code holds it.’
‘What is the code?’
The axeman gave a grim smile. ‘If I tell you, then you must swear to live by it. Do you really want to hear it? It could be the death of you.’
‘Yes.’
The axeman leaned back and closed his eyes. When he spoke it was as if he was reciting a prayer. The words hung in the air.
‘Did your father teach you that?’ asked Rabalyn.
‘No. It was a friend. His name was Shadak. I have been lucky with my friends, Rabalyn. I hope you are too.’
‘Is it Shadak you are looking for?’
Druss shook his head. ‘No, he died a long while back. He was more than seventy. He was knifed in an alleyway by three robbers.’
‘Were they caught?’
‘Two were caught and hanged. One escaped. He fled to a settlement in the high hills. A friend of Shadak’s tracked him down and killed him, and the gang that he had joined.’
‘So who are you looking for?’
‘The young Earl of Dros Purdol. He came to Mellicane two months ago, and then went missing.’
‘Perhaps he’s dead,’ said Rabalyn.
‘Aye, the thought had occurred to me. I hope not. He’s a good man, and he has an eight-year-old daughter, Elanin, who is a constant joy.
Whenever I see her she makes daisy chains I have to wear in my hair.’
Rabalyn laughed, as he pictured the grim warrior with a crown of flowers. ‘I thought you said you got tense around the young?’
‘I do. Elanin is an exception. Last year on my farm a wild dog ran at her.
Most children would have panicked. The dog was large and it would have savaged her. Even as I ran to ward it off she picked up a stick and thumped it across the nose. It yelped and fled.’
‘And you like her because she’s brave?’
‘I admire courage, boy.’ The old man sighed. ‘1 expect she’s back in Dros Purdol now worried sick about her father. To see the two of them together lifts the heart.’
‘Can I travel with you to Mellicane?’ asked Rabalyn.
‘Of course. But your friends will come for you.’
‘I don’t think so. We were scattered when the beasts attacked. I expect they’ll just go on without me.’
Druss shook his head. ‘As you get older you’ll learn to judge men better.
The man with the swords would never leave a friend behind. He’ll keep looking until he finds you.’
‘Unless the beasts killed him.’
‘That
