you not take vengeance on her?’
‘I don’t make war on women, laddie.’
‘And yet they have just as great a capacity for evil.’
‘True, but I’m too old to change now. Ironmask destroyed Orastes. It is Ironmask who will pay.’
‘So you think that Orastes is still following his daughter?’
‘Aye, I do. I don’t know how much of Orastes survives in the beast. He probably doesn’t even know why he is heading into Pelucid. But that’s why he’s here. The child meant everything to him.’
The two men fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts. The sky was cloudless, the moon high and bright. Something moved upon the rocks.
The Sword of Day slid into Skilgannon’s hand. He relaxed as he saw a small lizard scurry into the shadows.
‘Why are you here, laddie?’ asked Druss suddenly.
‘You know why. I am hoping to bring my wife back from the dead.’
‘I meant why are you
Skilgannon sighed. ‘You remind me of my father. I was too young to be alongside him when he needed me.’
‘Death always brings guilt,’ said Druss. He pushed himself to his feet. ‘I am a good judge of men, Skilgannon. You believe that?’
‘I do.’
‘Then believe me when I tell you that you are a better man than you know. You can’t put right the evil you have done. All you can do is ensure it never happens again.’
‘And how do I do that?’
‘You find a code, laddie.’ Druss hefted Snaga. ‘And now it’s time to enter those caves. I don’t think Orastes will be coming out to us.’
Skilgannon stared at the nearest entrance. It seemed to him then that it resembled a gaping mouth. Fear touched him, but he drew his second sword and followed the axeman towards the cliff face.
Beyond the cave mouth was a twisting tunnel. Moonlight did not pierce the gloom for more than a few yards. Druss took several steps towards the darkness. ‘There’ll be light further on,’ he said. ‘The whole of the cliff face is pockmarked with caves and openings.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Skilgannon, following him into the dark. Within a few paces they could see nothing, and Druss moved warily, feeling ahead with every footfall. The stench of animal fur was stronger now, and some way ahead they heard a low growl.
Skilgannon sheathed one of his swords, and placed a hand on Druss’s shoulder. Ahead they saw a faint gleam of moonlight, shafting down at a forty-five-degree angle. Slowly they approached it. They rounded a slight bend. Several shafts of moonlight could now be seen, coming from fissures in the rock face.
The tunnel opened out into a cavern. Stalactites hung from the domed roof. ‘You could try calling his name,’ offered Skilgannon. ‘Maybe some part of his mind still remembers it.’
‘Orastes!’ shouted Druss, his voice booming and echoing. ‘It is I, Druss.
Come out, my friend. We mean you no harm.’
A movement came from the right. Skilgannon turned towards it. A massive creature lunged from the shadows, jaws open. Skilgannon leapt aside, the golden Sword of Day slashing in a wide, glittering arc. The blade sliced into the creature’s shoulder, and down through the powerful collar bone, exiting at the chest. It did not halt its charge, and its powerful body cannoned into Skilgannon, knocking him from his feet. Snaga swept up and down, cleaving through the Joining’s skull. It slumped to the cavern floor.
Skilgannon rolled to his feet, drawing the Sword of Night as he did so.
The dead beast was covered in thick, black fur. Skilgannon did not know whether to be relieved that it wasn’t Orastes, or disappointed. Had it been Orastes they could have left this grisly tomb.
‘Orastes!’ called out Druss. ‘Come forth. It is I, Druss.’
Another shadow moved. Skilgannon readied himself for an attack.
Moonlight fell on a great grey beast, with huge hunched shoulders. It was standing beside a stalactite, and staring at the two men, its golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
‘We have come to help you, Orastes,’ said Druss, laying down his axe and stepping forward. The creature gave out a low growl, and Skilgannon saw it tense for the charge.
‘Druss, be careful,’ he warned.
‘You are looking for Elanin,’ said Druss. At the sound of the girl’s name the beast seemed to shudder. Its massive head twisted, and it gave out an ear-splitting howl. ‘We know where she is,’ said Druss. ‘She has been taken to a citadel.’ Now the creature backed away a few paces. Its eyes narrowed. It was preparing to attack.
‘Say the girl’s name again, Druss,’ advised Skilgannon.
‘Elanin. Your daughter Elanin. Listen to me, Orastes. We need to rescue Elanin.’ The beast roared again, and Skilgannon almost believed he could hear anguish in the sound. Then it smashed its fist against a stalactite, shattering it to shards. The beast backed away into the shadows.
Druss took another step away from his axe. ‘Trust me, Orastes. We know of a temple where they may be able to bring you back. Then you could come with us when we rescue Elanin.’
The grey beast roared and charged. Its shoulder struck Druss, sending him hurtling to the ground. Then it bore down on Skilgannon, who hurled himself to his right, landing on his shoulder and rolling to his feet. The swords came up. Orastes or no he would kill it if it came for him. But it did not. The Joining ran off into the darkness. Druss made to follow, but Skilgannon stepped into his path.
‘No, Druss,’ he said. ‘Even a hero should know when he has lost.’
Druss stood for a moment, then gave a deep sigh. ‘It
‘You did all you could.’
‘It wasn’t enough.’ Druss walked to where Snaga lay and recovered it.
‘Let’s get back to where the air is clean,’ he said.
For the next two days Druss continued to walk the mountains seeking Orastes. This time he went alone. The company remained in the settlement of Khalid Khan. Diagoras, who had some skill with wounds, helped with the injured. Seven men and three women had been killed by the beasts, and eight others carried injuries, five from bites and slashes, three from broken bones. The nomads made no attempt to skin the dead beasts. Instead they were dragged from the camp, covered in brushwood and set alight. On the morning of the third day Khalid Khan’s men began dismantling their tents.
‘We are moving further into the mountains,’ Khalid told Skilgannon.
‘This is now a place of ill omen.’
Garianne came into the settlement, a bighorn sheep across her shoulders. She left it with several of the nomad women, then walked to a spot in the shade and sat down alongside Skilgannon.
‘We need to leave,’ she said. ‘The Old Woman spoke to us. She told us in a dream that enemies are coming.’
Skilgannon glanced at the young woman. She was staring ahead, her face set. He had learned not to ask questions of her, so merely waited. ‘The Nadir shaman with Ironmask is now aware of Old Uncle. He has sent riders to waylay him. Many riders. They will be here by tomorrow morning. The Old Woman says to head northwest. To leave Old Uncle to his fate.’
‘She told Druss she wanted Ironmask dead,’ he said, choosing his words carefully. ‘That is… Old Uncle’s… quest. Yet now she is content to see him killed, so that we may survive. That seems strange to me.’
‘We do not know what she desires,’ said Garianne. ‘We only know what she told us.’
‘Perhaps it was just a dream, and the Old Woman did not appear to you.’
‘It was the Old Woman,’ said Garianne. ‘It is how she speaks with us when we are far away.’
Skilgannon believed her, but the Old Woman’s advice made little sense.
If she wanted Ironmask dead, as she had indicated, then why encourage the company to split up? Leaning
