White Wolf: A Novel of Druss the Legend

‘ Where is Uncle Druss?’ it asked, with the voice of a small girl.

‘ He is coming to the Citadel.’

‘ Does he have an army?’

‘ No. I am with him. And Diagoras and Garianne. Two friends of Uncle Druss.’

The bear sat down. Its shape shimmered and changed. The ground shifted. Walls reared up around the clearing. Within moments Skilgannon found himself sitting in a high room, with a wide window overlooking the sea. It was a child’s room, full of toys and books. On the bed by the window sat a blonde girl, with large, blue eyes. ‘Hello, Elanin,’

he said.

‘ Where is my father?’ she asked. ‘I cannot find him.’

Skilgannon sighed. ‘May I sit with you?’ he asked.

‘ You can sit in the chair.’

He did as she bid. ‘I am Brother Lantern,’ he said. ‘I am… I was… a priest. I am also called Skilgannon. I do not know your father. I have never met him. Uncle Druss tells me he is a fine man.’

‘ They killed him, didn’t they? They killed Father. Ironmask told me. He said they turned him into a wolf and he was killed in the arena.’

‘ Ironmask is an evil man. But you must be strong. We will come for you.’

‘ He wants to kill me too. But he won’t find me here.’

‘ No, he won’t.’

The little girl looked into Skilgannon’s eyes. ‘If you haven’t got an army you won’t win. There are lots of soldiers with Ironmask. Big men with big swords. More than a hundred. I saw them from my window.’

‘ I have seen them too. It will be difficult. Tell me, little one, do you know the way back to the Citadel?’

‘ I’m not going there! You can’t make me!’ The room shimmered, thorn limbs sprouting from the walls.

‘ No-one is going to make you do anything,’ he said swiftly. ‘Is that the harbour outside? Do you have a boat there? I have always liked boats.’

The thorns withdrew. Elanin rose from the bed and walked to the window.

‘ Father doesn’t like boats. They make him feel sick.’

‘ I sometimes feel sick in boats. But I still like them.’ He knelt down in front of her. 'When we come to rescue you in the Citadel we need to be able to call you home. We need… a secret password so you know it is safe.’

‘ I am not coming home. Father isn’t there. I shall stay here.’

‘ That is one plan,’ he agreed. ‘I think it will make Uncle Druss sad.’

‘ Then he can come here.’

‘ And what of your friends back in Dros Purdol? They can’t come here.

This is your special place. I only came because I have a special friend who showed me the way.’

‘ Ironmask killed Mother too. He cut her up.’ Tears welled in the child’s eyes. Instinctively Skilgannon reached out and drew her into a hug. He stroked her hair, and patted her back.

‘ I cannot bring her back,’ said Skilgannon. ‘I cannot take away your suffering. But you are strong. You are a very brave girl. You will make your own decisions. Let us agree on a password. You can then decide whether to stay here, or come back to Uncle Druss and me.’

‘ I think you should go now,’ she said. ‘It is getting late.’

The room spun. Skilgannon was flung through the air, in total darkness. He landed heavily on the ground — just in front of the thorn forest.

‘ I will see you soon, Elanin,’ he called. Then he whispered the name of Ustarte.

Skilgannon opened his eyes. Ustarte was standing by the balcony’s edge, looking at him intently. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked.

‘Weary.’

‘Drink a little of our water. It will revive you.’ The sun was shining brightly, and a cool breeze flowed across the balcony. Skilgannon filled a crystal goblet and drained it. His limbs felt leaden, as if he had run a great distance.

‘You suffered much,’ said Ustarte. ‘I will be honest, you have surprised me, warrior. You almost died in there.’

‘You warned me it could be dangerous.’ Strength was seeping back into his limbs.

‘That is not what surprised me. Even Druss, I think, would have taken his axe to that thorn thicket. He would certainly have fought the bear.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I failed. She is too terrified to come out.’

‘You have planted a seed. You could do no more. You should rest for a while.’

‘Not yet,’ said Skilgannon. ‘Can you take me to the Citadel once more? I need to see exactly how many soldiers there are, and what their duties.’

‘I can tell you the numbers.’

‘With respect, lady, I need to see for myself. Four warriors cannot attack the Citadel. If we merely needed to enter and kill Ironmask we could do it.

However, I have now seen the child, and the most important duty we have is to rescue her, to bring her safely home. If that is to be even remotely possible I need to know the movements of their troops, their methods and their duties. I need to understand their loyalties. Do they fight for love of Boranius, or for plunder? Everything is against us at this moment. Had we arrived in secret we might have spirited the child away, and then returned for Boranius. But we are not arriving in secret. He knows we are coming.

And I know Boranius. He is not a fool. From what I saw of the Citadel there are only four approaches. He will have scouts out, watching for us.

Once we are seen on the open road he will send riders to intercept us. Even with twenty Druss the Legends we would be overcome, by arrows and spears, if not by swords.’ He looked up at her. ‘So I ask again that you take me back.’

‘Would it make a difference to your plans if I told you that you cannot win, Olek?’

‘No,’ he said simply.

‘And why is that?’

‘Not an easy question to answer, lady, and I am too weary to debate it.’

‘Then I shall take you back to the Citadel, Olek. Close your eyes.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MORCHA SAT OUTSIDE THE BEDROOM. THE GROANS OF PAIN

WERE easing now as the surgeon applied narcotic salves to Boranius’s ruined face. The burns were severe, and yet strangely had only affected the discoloured skin. The rest of his face and his eyes were completely untouched. After a while the surgeon Morcha had brought from the market town emerged from the bedroom. ‘He is sleeping now,’ he said. ‘I have never seen a wound like it.’

‘Nor I,’ said Morcha. The sandy-haired officer rose from his seat. ‘I thank you for coming,’ he said. The surgeon, a thin-faced man with rounded shoulders, looked at him curiously. Morcha felt embarrassed suddenly. The man had had no choice. When Ironmask issued a command you either obeyed or died. Sometimes you did both.

‘I will need a room close by. When he awakes the pain will return. I need to be here.’