Delian. They had just been men with swords, ordered to capture her. She tried to remember their faces, but only one came to mind, a bearded man with florid features and savage eyes. He had wanted to rape her, but was overruled by the others.
Skilgannon and she had parted an hour earlier, after harsh words. It was difficult now to recall exactly what the argument had been about.
Once they left the city, and were travelling together, they seemed to grate on each other. Looking back with the full wisdom of her twenty-five years Jianna could see now that the tension was sexual. She had longed to be intimate with the young warrior. She smiled. Abstinence had never been agreeable to her. It was much the same for Skilgannon. So they bickered and argued. Finally, two days after escaping the city, they had agreed to separate, Jianna striking out north towards a tribal settlement where she believed she would be safe.
An hour later she had been surrounded, and chased down by soldiers.
Fleet of foot, she had almost escaped them. She had been scrambling up a steep slope when she grabbed hold of a jutting tree root for purchase. The root snapped off, and she tumbled back down the muddy slope. They grabbed her then.
‘Got to be her,’ said the soldier with the florid face. ‘Look at her.’
Grabbing her by the neck he dragged her head down, and ran his hand over her shorn hair. ‘See, there’s still traces of the blond dye.’
‘What’s your name, girl?’ asked another man. Jianna couldn’t remember his face now, except that he was thin. She didn’t answer him.
There were five soldiers in the group and they gathered round her.
‘What did she do?’ someone asked.
‘Who cares?’ answered the florid man. ‘Boranius said she was important. That’s all that matters. Beautiful legs and arse, hasn’t she?’ he continued, running a calloused hand over her thighs. ‘Reckon we ought to sample this one.’
‘No, we don’t,’ said someone else. Jianna wondered now if this was the young man Samias had spoken of. ‘We just take her back.’
‘I am the Princess Jianna,’ she said. ‘The tyrant wants me dead. He has already killed my mother and father. Take me north and I shall see you rewarded.’
‘Oh, yes, you look like a princess, right enough,’ said Florid Face. ‘Stupid bitch! You need a better story than that.’
‘It is the truth. Why do you think you were sent out? What whore would be worth that trouble? I’ll wager you are not the only troops out here.’
‘Suppose she’s right?’ said someone else.
‘What if she is?’ demanded Florid Face. ‘Nothing to do with us. There’s a new king now. New kings always kill their rivals. And how would she reward us, eh? There’s nowhere safe for her. The only reward she can offer is between her legs. And we can have that now. I never drilled a princess before. Think it’s any different?’
‘You’ll never know,’ came the voice of Skilgannon. Jianna still remembered the leap in her heart. It was not because she thought she was rescued. In that instant she believed them both to be ruined. It was merely the sound of his voice, and the knowledge he had come back for her.
The soldiers turned to see the young man. He was standing some ten feet from them. In his right hand he held a short, stabbing sword, in his left a wickedly sharp hunting knife. Sunlight gleamed upon the blades.
‘Would you look at that?’ said Florid Face contemptuously. ‘Be careful with those blades, boy. You might cut yourself.’
‘Let her go or die,’ said Skilgannon calmly. ‘There are no other choices.’
‘Will someone take those swords away from him?’ said Florid Face. ‘He is beginning to annoy me.’
Two men drew their sabres and advanced on Skilgannon. He stood very still for a moment, and when he moved the effect was startling. One man fell back, his throat gouting blood. The second cried out as the hunting knife plunged into his chest, spearing his heart. Before the other soldiers could react he leapt forward, the shortsword cleaving into the belly of another soldier, even as the man struggled to draw his sabre. Jianna’s hand reached out, pulling a knife from a scabbard at Florid Face’s side. He was too surprised at the sudden violence to notice. He was even more surprised when the blade lanced into his chest just below the sternum. It went deep. He gave a groan and, releasing Jianna, staggered back. The fifth soldier ran for his life. Florid Face clumsily dragged his sabre from its scabbard, and tried to attack Skilgannon. But his legs buckled and he fell to his knees, blood pumping from his chest. Weakly he lashed out with his sabre, but Skilgannon stepped back from the swing.
‘Time to go,’ he told Jianna. She looked into his face. His sapphire eyes were cold, like ice crystals. She shivered.
‘I agree,’ she told him.
The story of the rescue in the forest grew in the years that followed.
Jianna had heard many versions. In some she had been dressed in armour and had fought and killed three men herself. In others the Damned had defeated six swordmasters. The reality was that the action had been short, bloody and brutal. Jianna had stayed free, and Samias had lost the love of her life.
This was what Askelus had meant when he spoke of a compassionate society. The concentration on individual loss and grief, rather than the effect of an action on society as a whole.
Back at the park Jianna sat on a bench close to the undergrowth which hid the entrance to the secret passageway. She was forced to wait for some time as people were constantly moving along the pathways, or sitting by the fountains. Finally she stood.and eased her way back into the undergrowth, squatting down and lifting the grille. The lantern was still burning at the lower doorway. Holding it high she locked the door and moved back along the passageway. She had left instructions that she was not to be disturbed until two hours after noon, but the time was close.
Almost too close.
In the hidden chamber behind the panelling she stripped off her ordinary clothes, then entered the apartment, strolling naked through to her bedroom. Just then two servant girls entered, bowed and told her that Malanek was waiting outside. She ordered them to prepare her bath, then swung a pale blue satin robe round her shoulders.
One of the servants ushered Malanek into the main room. He looked tired, his face drawn. ‘I am glad you got some extra rest, Majesty,’ he said.
‘You should take your own advice, Malanek. You look exhausted.’
He gave a weary smile. ‘I keep forgetting I am no longer a youngster.’ He sighed. ‘There is news from Mellicane, Majesty. Did you have a change of heart about Skilgannon?’
‘No. Why would I?’
There was an assassination attempt upon him. Led by a Naashanite named Servaj Das.’
‘It was not by my order, Malanek. Skilgannon is free to go where he wishes.’
Malanek nodded. That pleases me, Majesty. But it leaves me wondering who else would want Skilgannon dead.’
She looked at him closely. ‘I do not need to lie to you, my friend. When I took your advice to let him go I did so freely. Had I wanted him killed I would have told you.’
‘I know that, Jianna,’ he said, forgetting himself for a moment. ‘Do you mind if I sit?’
Gesturing him to a couch she sat beside him. ‘What is worrying you?’
‘I have been studying the reports on Mellicane. The man Ironmask made a great many contacts within the Naashanite community. Many of his men are also former soldiers of ours. Most were rebels, though not all.
According to our sources in Mellicane Servaj Das worked for him. We have little information on Ironmask, save that he is not from Tantria. His accent showed that he was not Ventrian. It seems he is not known either in Datia or Dospilis. He could be from across the water: Drenan, Gothir, Vagria. But what if he is a Naashanite?’
Jianna shrugged. ‘Why should I care?’
‘He is a charismatic leader of men. We know this. He has gathered warriors to him, many of whom fought against you. Where did such a man come from? And there is something else. Our sources among the Datian officers say that when they entered the palace he used they found chambers below with blood-spattered walls. They also found severed fingers and hands.’
The Queen sat very still. ‘The man whose name we do not speak was killed in battle. Skilgannon slashed
