In the tavern Skilgannon found Druss sitting alone, and eating a double sized meal. Two huge slabs of meat pie had been placed on an oversized banquet plate, with a huge portion of roasted vegetables. Skilgannon sat down.
‘You could feed an army on that,’ he said.
‘I was feeling a little peckish,’ said Druss. ‘Chopping logs always gives me an appetite.’
‘The lad said Garianne was looking for me.’
‘Aye, she was. But now she’s gone.’
Skilgannon chuckled. ‘Druss the Legend is embarrassed,’ he said. ‘Is that a blush I see?’
Druss glared at him. ‘Some Datian officers have been asking questions about a number of dead men found in a stable in the Naashanite quarter,’
he said after a moment. ‘Best stay low here until we leave.’
‘That makes sense,’ agreed Skilgannon.
‘You think they’ll try again?’
‘Yes. But probably not until we’re on the road. It does not concern me unduly.’
‘And why is that?’ asked the axeman.
‘I must assume Servaj used the best men he had in the first attack. They were really not very skilled. The Source alone knows what the second best will think to accomplish.’
‘Beware of arrogance, laddie. I have seen great fighters brought down by an idiot with a bow. Once I saw a fine warrior felled by a stone hurled from a child’s sling. Fate has a dark sense of humour sometimes.’ The axeman fell silent, and set about tackling the enormous plate of food. After a while he glanced up. ‘I saw your bout with Diagoras. Don’t judge him too harshly. He’s a good man — sound and brave and loyal.’
‘I didn’t judge him, Druss. He judged me. In all likelihood his judgement is accurate. If I was a warrior told about the deeds of the Damned I would loathe him too. You can’t change the past, no matter how much you long to.’
‘Aye, there’s truth in that. We make mistakes. No point dwelling on them. As long as we learn from them. Garianne went off with a Vagrian officer. Don’t judge her too harshly either. She needs what she needs.’
‘I know. Have you learned any more about this Ironmask?’
‘Nothing good,’ said Druss. ‘He’s sharp, canny and brutal. His men were handpicked for their savagery. Not a nice bunch.’
‘And you still mean to take them on alone?’
‘Ultimately, laddie, we are all alone.’
‘What is your plan?’
‘Simplicity itself. I shall walk into the fortress, find Ironmask, and kill him.'
‘Simple plans are usually the best,’ agreed Skilgannon. ‘Less to go wrong. Have you considered the hundred and seventy warriors who are said to man the fortress?’
‘No. They’d best keep out of my way, though.’
Skilgannon laughed aloud. ‘And you talk to me about arrogance?’
Druss chuckled. ‘I might think of a better plan once I’ve seen the place.’
‘That would be wise,’ Skilgannon agreed.
‘I’m not sure you’re the man to be offering lectures on wisdom,’ said Druss. ‘As I recall you were a general, with a palace and a fortune. You gave it all up to become a pacifist priest — an occupation, I might add, you proved wholly unsuitable for. You are now a penniless warrior, being hunted by assassins. Have I missed anything out?’
‘You could add that the person who wants me dead is the woman I love above all else in this world.’
‘I take it back,’ said Druss. ‘Tell me more of your wisdom, laddie. I find it strangely appealing.’
Jianna had been ten years old when first she stumbled on the passageway that led beneath the royal palace. It had been an accidental discovery. She had been playing in her father’s apartments while he had been away with the army putting down a rebellion. Her mother had sent servants looking for her, to scold her for some infraction, and Jianna had run into the huge and luxurious bedroom seeking a hiding place. She had sought to conceal herself behind a heavy silk curtain set against the north wall, but when she tugged on it she found that it would not move. A tiny section of it, at floor level, had become wedged in the walnut panelling of the wall behind. The ten-year-old princess found this perplexing. Gently she eased it out, and stepped behind the curtain. The two servants sent to fetch her to her mother soon gave up the search. Jianna heard them move away. Once alone she drew back the curtain and examined the panelling.
It was ornately carved, and embellished with gold leaf. Above her head a golden adornment had been set into the wood. It was a lion’s head, the mouth open and snarling. On both sides of the head were golden candle holders. Jianna moved back into the room and hauled a chair to the panelling. Standing upon it she studied the lion’s head. Suddenly the chair shifted. As she fell the princess grabbed the nearest candle holder. It twisted under her grip. Letting go, she fell to the floor. A cold draught of air flowed across her. The panelling had opened. Beyond was a shadowed chamber. Clambering to her feet she stepped inside. It was no more than five feet deep, ending in a barred iron door. Sliding back the bar, she pushed open the door. Beyond it was a dark tunnel. At ten the princess was too fearful to enter this frightening place. Barring the door once more she returned to the apartment, drew the panelling shut, and pushed the candle holder back into its place, relocking the entrance.
During the following year she thought about the secret passageway often, and chided herself for her childish fears. One hot afternoon, as her servants dozed in the afternoon sunshine, she crept away, back to the royal apartment. Taller now, she could — standing on tiptoe — reach the candle holder and twist it. The panel eased open. Taking a lighted lantern she stepped into the chamber beyond, examining the wall on the other side of the lion ornament. Here there was a simple lever. Pushing shut the panelling she tugged on the lever. A click sounded. The panelling was now firmly shut.
Moving to the iron door, she opened it and stepped out into the passageway. It was cool here, and a flow of air made the lantern flame flicker. Feeling her way carefully ahead she came to a set of steps leading down. The walls glistened with damp, and a rat scurried across her foot.
She almost dropped the lantern.
Jianna felt her heart beat faster as fears began to swamp her mind.
What if hundreds of rats attacked her? No-one would hear her screams, and, worse yet, her body would never be found. She faltered, and considered going back. But she did not. Instead she recalled the instruction of the swordmaster Malanek: ‘Fear is like a guard dog. It warns you when danger threatens. But if you run from all your fears the guard dog becomes a savage wolf, and will pursue you, snapping at your heels. Fear, if unopposed by courage, eats away at the heart. Once you run you will never stop.’
The tunnel seemed to go on for ever. Jianna began to worry that her lantern would splutter out, leaving her in darkness. Eventually though she came to another barred door. The bar had been recently greased, and slid open easily. Opening the door just an inch she saw beyond it an iron ladder set into a rock wall. Chequered light patterned the rocks. Pulling the door fully open, she looked up. A metal grille blocked the shaft some twenty feet above. The shaft continued down beyond the doorway, and she could not see the bottom, though she could hear running water. Leaving the lantern burning in the doorway Jianna climbed the ladder. The grille at the top was too heavy for her to move, but glancing through it she could see the tops of trees, and hear the fountains of the royal park.
The tunnel, she now knew, was an escape route from the palace.
Retracing her steps Jianna made the long journey back to the apartments, re-barring the doors as she went. Her curiosity satisfied, she did not travel that way again until the second year of her triumphant return to the capital. Her face stripped of the paint of nobility, her clothes ordinary, she sometimes escaped to walk the sunlit streets, or shop in the markets alongside ordinary citizens. She would eat in taverns, and listen to the conversations. Had either Askelus or Malanek known of these trips they would have become apoplectic with rage and frustration. Yet it was on adventures like this that Jianna learned what the populace truly thought of her government of their lives. It did not matter to her that she was now known among the nobility as the Witch Queen. To the common people she was a figure of awe, respected and feared. Not loved, though, as Malanek believed. In taverns and eating houses people spoke of her courage, her shrewdness, her battle skills. There was considerably more debate about her ruthlessness.
Crimes were now punished severely; thieves had three fingers of their left hand cut away for a first offence.
