White Wolf: A Novel of Druss the Legend dt-10 Page 33

  ‘No, Nian. We’re heading for the temple. They’ll know what to do. I am sure they’ll bring your memory back.’

  ‘Who was that big old man in the tent? His face looked familiar too.’

  That was Druss. He’s a friend.’

  ‘Well, thank the Source I am all right now. It is a beautiful night, isn’t it?’

  ‘Indeed it is,’ agreed Jared.

  ‘I could do with some water. Is there a well close by?’

  ‘I’ll fetch you some. You sit there for a while.’ Jared walked back to Khalid Khan’s tent.

  Nian looked at Rabalyn. ‘Are we friends, young man?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you interested in the stars?’

  ‘I have never thought about it.’

  ‘Ah, you should. Look up there. You see the three stars in a line? They are called the Sword Belt. They are so far away from us that the light we see has taken a million years to reach us. It could even be that they don’t exist any more, and all we are seeing is ancient light.’

  ‘How could we see them if they didn’t exist?’ asked Rabalyn.

  ‘It is about distance. When the sun first rises the sky is still dark. Did you know that?’

  ‘That makes no sense.’

  ‘Ah, but it does. The sun is more than ninety million miles from the earth. That is a colossal distance. The light that blazes from it has to travel ninety million miles before it touches our eyes. Only when it touches our eyes are we aware of it. An ancient scholar estimated that it takes a few minutes for the light to travel that distance. In those minutes the sky would still appear dark to our eyes.’

  Rabalyn didn’t believe a word of it, but he smiled and nodded. ‘Oh, I see,’ he said, confused and even a little frightened by this strange new man inhabiting Nian’s body.

  Nian laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You think I am mad.

  Perhaps I am. I have always been curious, though, about how things work.

  What makes the wind blow, and the tides flow? How does rainwater get into a cloud? Why does it fall out again?’

  ‘Why does it?’ asked Rabalyn.

  ‘You see? Now you are getting curious too. A good trait in the young.’

  He winced suddenly. ‘My head is beginning to ache,’ he said.

  Jared returned with a goblet of water. Nian drank it swiftly, then rubbed at his eyes. ‘I think I will sleep,’ he said. ‘I will see you in the morning, Rabalyn.’

  The two brothers walked away. Rabalyn sat for a while, staring at the Sword Belt, and the glittering stars around it. Then he heard Nian cry out, and saw Jared sitting beside him, his arm round his brother’s shoulder.

  Nian lay down, and Jared covered him with a blanket. Rabalyn went over to them.

  ‘Is he all right?’ he asked.

  ‘No. The cancer is destroying him,’ said Jared, with a sigh. Nian was sleeping now, lying on his back, his arm over his face.

  ‘He talked about the stars and clouds.’

  ‘Yes. He is… was… a man of great intelligence. He was an architect once. A long time ago. When he wakes he will be the Nian you know.

  Slow-witted.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘No more do I, boy,’ said Jared sadly. ‘The Old Woman says it is to do with the pressure inside his head. Sometimes it shifts or subsides, and for a few minutes he is the Nian he always was. The Nian he was meant to be.

  It doesn’t last. And the moments of clarity are fewer now. The last time he returned was a year ago. The temple will cure him, though. I am sure of it.’

  Nian moaned in his sleep. Jared leaned over and stroked his brow.

  ‘I think I’ll get some sleep too,’ said Rabalyn. Jared was staring down at his brother’s face and did not hear him.

  As the night wore on many of Khalid’s men drifted back to their tents.

  Others too drunk to move fell asleep on the threadbare rugs. Druss rose from his place, took one look at the sleeping Khalid, then half stumbled as he made his way towards the outside. Diagoras, his mouth dry, his head pounding, followed him out into the night.

  Druss stood and stretched out his arms. ‘Damn, but I’m tired,’ he said, as Diagoras came up to him.

  ‘Did you learn anything worthwhile?’

  ‘Nothing we didn’t know about Ironmask. Khalid has never seen the fortress. It’s a long way from here. He has heard of the temple Skilgannon seeks. Apparently there was a warrior who went there when Khalid was a child. He said the man had lost his right hand in a battle. He went seeking the temple and when he returned his hand had regrown.’

  ‘Impossible,’ said Diagoras. ‘Just a myth.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Druss. ‘One interesting detail, though. He said the man’s hand was a different colour. It was deeper red, as if scalded. Khalid says he saw it himself, and has never forgotten it.’

  ‘And that makes you believe the story?’

  ‘It tells me there’s at least a grain of truth to it. Perhaps the man did not lose the hand, but had it mutilated. I don’t know, laddie. But Khalid says the temple cannot be found unless the priestess there wants to be found.

  He told me he travelled over the area himself, and saw no sign of a building. Not until he was leaving. He had climbed towards a high pass leading home, and he glanced back. And there it was, shining in the moonlight. He swears he walked every inch of the valley floor. There was no way he could have missed it.’

  ‘So, did he go back?’ asked Diagoras.

  ‘No. He decided he didn’t want to risk entering a building that appeared and disappeared.’

  A slender figure moved down the mountainside from the direction of the hidden lake. Diagoras saw that it was Garianne. As she passed them she waved. ‘Goodnight, Uncle,’ she called.

  ‘Goodnight, lass,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’

  ‘Have I too become invisible?’ asked Diagoras. Druss chuckled.

  ‘It must be hard for a ladies’ man like you, boy, to be so disregarded.’

  ‘I’ll admit to that. She never talks to me at all.’

  ‘That’s because she knows you are interested in her. And she wants no friends.’

  ‘I’ll wager she’s just come from Skilgannon,’ said Diagoras sourly.

  ‘I expect so, laddie. That’s because he has no interest in her whatsoever.

  What they need from each other is simple and primal. It creates no ties, and therefore no dangers.’

  Diagoras looked at the older man. ‘Be careful, Druss. Your image as a simple soldier will be ruined if you continue to display such insights.’

  Druss was silent, and Diagoras saw that he was staring up into the shadow-haunted hills. ‘You see something?’

  Druss ignored the question and walked across to the wagon. Reaching in, he drew out Snaga. ‘Where is the boy?’

  Diagoras shrugged. ‘I think he got bored with the revelling and went off to find somewhere to sleep.’

  ‘Find him. I’m going to have a look up that slope.’

  ‘What did you see?’ persisted Diagoras.

  ‘Just a shadow. But I have an uneasy feeling.’

  With that Druss walked away. Diagoras gazed around at the camp, and the jagged black silhouettes of the rocky hills. The night was quiet and calm. No breeze whispered across the campsite. Bright stars decorated the sky, like diamonds on sable. Diagoras had not felt uneasy before Druss spoke. He did now. The old man had spent most of his life in situations of danger. He had acquired a sixth sense for it.

  Diagoras loosened his sabre, then began to scout for sign of Rabalyn.

  On the mountainside to the west Skilgannon emerged from the lake tunnel, and out into the moonlight. He took a deep breath. His body, released from tensions by the lovemaking with Garianne, was relaxed, his thoughts untroubled. The woman was a mystery, fey and aloof when sober, passionate and vulnerable when drunk. They had not spoken when she came into the lake cavern. She had walked unsteadily towards him, then looped her ar
ms round his neck. The kiss fired his blood. Garianne was not Jianna, but the touch of soft lips upon his own had brought back the memories of that one, unforgettable night in the woods, after his rescue of her. It was the only time he and Jianna had given in to their passion. He remembered every detail: the whisper of the night breeze in the branches above them, the scent of lemon grass in the air, the feel of her skin pressing against his own. And afterwards the way she cuddled in close to him, slipping her right thigh across him, her arm draped over his chest, her hand stroking his cheek. The memory was almost unbearably sweet. It filled him with both longing and regret.

  With Garianne there was no affection. She did not stroke his face, or cuddle in close. Her passion exhausted she pulled away, dressed swiftly and left without a word. He made no effort to stop her. They had both taken all they needed from one another. There was no point in prolonging the moment.

  Skilgannon stepped from the cave entrance and gazed down at the settlement. He was about to walk down towards the tents when he stopped. His relaxed mood evaporated. The night was silent, and there was no threat in sight. Even so he remained where he was, scanning the hillsides. He saw Druss walking purposefully towards the east, axe in hand. Below he spotted Diagoras moving through the tents. A breath of breeze blew across him. There was a slight scent upon it, musky and rank.

  Reaching up with his right hand Skilgannon drew one of his swords.

  Glancing to his left he saw a jumble of boulders, the tallest over ten feet high. He closed his eyes, concentrating his hearing. There was nothing.

  Yet he did not relax. Reaching back he drew his second sword, and stood, statue still. The breeze blew again, caressing the back of his neck. This time the scent was stronger.

  Skilgannon spun.

  A massive beast rose up behind him and leapt. Its eyes glittered red, and its jaws spread, showing rows of gleaming fangs.

  The Swords of Night and Day flashed out, the first slashing through the huge neck, the second piercing the shaggy chest and cleaving the heart.

  The weight of the charging beast bore him backwards, and they hit the slope together and rolled. Releasing his hold on the Sword of Day Skilgannon kicked himself clear of the thrashing beast and came to his feet. Screams began from the settlement below. Skilgannon ignored them, fastening his gaze on the cave mouth.

  No other creatures came into sight. He glanced back at the beast he had stabbed. It was no longer moving. Warily he approached it. The Joining was lying on its back, dead eyes open to the sky. Grabbing the hilt of the blade jutting from its chest Skilgannon drew it clear.

  From the camp below came more sounds of screaming.

  Skilgannon could see three beasts. One had torn through a tent wall and emerged back into the settlement, the cloth of the tent clinging to its back like a trailing cloak. It crouched over a fallen tribesman. Fangs crunched down on the man’s skull. A little to the left Diagoras was vainly trying to battle a huge, hunchbacked Joining. The cavalry sabre was having little effect. Skilgannon began to run down the slope towards the fight. As he did so he saw Rabalyn emerge behind the Joining, slamming his shortsword into the beast’s back.

  Other creatures emerged. Jared and Nian came into view, and charged them. Their longswords were more effective than the sabre of Diagoras, and they drove the Joinings back. Khalid Khan appeared, and began shouting orders to his men. His voice cut through the panic, and some of the warriors ran to gather bows and spears. Skilgannon saw Diagoras attempt a thrust into the chest of an oncoming Joining. The blade failed to penetrate. Diagoras was thrown through the air by a backhanded blow from the creature.

  Skilgannon ran in. The beast swerved towards him, its fangs lunging for his throat. He dropped to one knee and sent the golden Sword of Day ripping through the beast’s neck. Blood sprayed out and the creature staggered to its right. Nian leapt in, bringing his longsword down in a double-handed chop that split the Joining’s skull.

  Another beast hurled itself at Skilgannon. A crossbow bolt materialized in its right eye. Its great head jerked, and a terrifying roar burst from its throat. A second bolt thudded into its chest, but did not penetrate deeply.

  Skilgannon ran in, plunging his blade into the beast’s belly, and ripping the blade upwards. Diagoras was back on his feet. Skilgannon saw him bending over the limp form of Rabalyn.

  Garianne, reloading her crossbow, strode past Skilgannon, sending a bolt into the back of another creature. The Joining reared up then charged at the woman. Garianne stood her ground. As the beast was almost upon her she raised her arm, sending the second bolt into its snarling mouth.

  The iron point punched through the cartilage and bone, skewering the brain. In its death throes it lashed out. Garianne was punched from her feet. Then the creature toppled. Skilgannon hurdled the falling body and ran at the Joining still ensnared in the ruined tent. It reared up from the mutilated body upon which it was feeding and sprang away.

  Another Joining leapt to the wagon, and let out a roar. Three other beasts ran in. Skilgannon swung to face them.

  Then, with a bellowing war cry, Druss the Legend came out of the darkness, Snaga crunching through a first creature’s skull. Skilgannon raced in to aid the axeman. Jared and Nian followed him. Druss killed a second, and Skilgannon a third, before the surviving Joining turned and fled into the night. Glancing around the settlement Skilgannon saw the Joining with the tent-cloak was surrounded by tribesmen with bows. Its hide bristled with arrows. It tried to charge, but caught its front paw in the remains of the tent and tumbled over. Khalid Khan leapt towards it, driving his curved sword into the creature’s neck. It reared up, throwing the old leader through the air. More arrows thudded into it. The Joining tottered, then pitched to the ground. Tribesmen swarmed over the beast, plunging knives and swords into its flesh.

  For a while there was silence. Then some of the women, identifying dead loved ones, began to wail, the sound echoing through the hills.

  Skilgannon cleaned his blades and sheathed them. Druss walked back to where Diagoras was kneeling beside the unconscious Rabalyn. ‘Does he live?’ asked the axeman.

  ‘Aye. His nose is broken. He’s lucky. The talons missed him. I think it was the beast’s forearm that struck him.’

  ‘That’s because he was attacking the Joining,’ said Druss. ‘Pushing forward. If he’d backed away the talons would have ripped his throat out.

  Courage kept him alive.’

  ‘He’s a brave lad,’ agreed Diagoras. ‘He’s too young and callow, though, Druss. He shouldn’t be with us.’

  ‘He’ll learn,’ argued Druss.

  ‘You’ve a wound on your back,’ said Skilgannon, approaching the axeman.

  ‘It’s not deep.’ Druss patted the silver steel shoulder guards on his black jerkin. ‘These took most of the hit.’

  The brothers, Jared and Nian, strolled over. ‘You think they’ll come back?’ asked Jared.

  Druss shook his head, and gazed up into the hills. ‘Too few of them now.

  I killed two before coming back here. I think they’ll move on, seeking easier prey/ He seemed distracted.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Diagoras, getting to his feet.

  ‘Damnedest thing,’ said Druss. ‘I walked up into the hills. Then three of them rushed at me. I killed the first quick, but the second threw me to the ground.’ He fell silent, remembering the scene. ‘They had me. No question.

  Then a fourth beast attacked them. Big and grey. He just ripped in, scattering them. I managed to get to my feet. Killed a second. The grey one tore the throat out of the third. Then it just stood there. I knew it wasn’t going to attack me. No idea how I knew. We stared at one another, then it gave a cry of pure anguish and ran. Then I heard what was going on here, so I returned.’

  ‘You think it was Orastes?’ asked Diagoras.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t think of any other reason why it would have saved me. I’m going to find him.’

  ‘Find him?’ echoed Diagoras. ‘
Are you insane? You can’t be sure it even intended to rescue you. These are not thinking creatures, Druss. They’ll lash out and kill at the slightest provocation. Maybe they were just fighting over who got to eat your liver.’

  ‘Maybe,’ agreed the axeman. ‘I need to know.’

  Diagoras swore. Then he took a deep breath. ‘Listen to me, my friend. If it is Orastes there’s nothing we can do for him. You said the Old Woman made that clear. Once these poor devils are melded it cannot be undone.

  So what will you do? Keep him as a pet? Shem’s balls, Druss! This is not something you take for a walk and throw a stick for.’

  ‘I’ll take him to the temple. Maybe they can… bring Orastes back.’

  ‘Oh, I see. That’s all right then,’ said Diagoras, his voice angry. ‘So, let me get this clear. Our new plan is to capture a werebeast, find a temple which may or may not exist, then ask the priests to heal a tumour, and unmeld a wolf and a man? And all this before the two of us attack a fortress and despatch a couple of hundred warriors and rescue a child?

  Have I left anything out?’

  ‘I am hoping they can raise the dead,’ said Skilgannon. Diagoras looked at him and blinked.

  ‘Is this a jest of some kind?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘Ah, well then… I shall ask for a winged horse and a golden helm that makes me invisible. I’ll fly over the fortress and rescue the child without anyone seeing me.’

  ‘They can do amazing things,’ said Jared, stepping forward. Nian moved alongside him, taking hold of the sash at Jared’s belt. ‘I know this.

  We have been there before.’

  ‘You’ve seen the temple?’ put in Skilgannon.

  ‘I don’t remember much of it,’ said Jared. ‘Our father took us there when we were very young. No more than three years old.’

  ‘Were you sick?’ asked Diagoras.

  ‘No, we were healthy enough. But we were joined at the waist. Born that way. Our mother died in childbirth. The surgeon cut us from her dead body. We were freaks. I don’t remember much of those early years. But I do remember being stared at, laughed at, pointed at. All I recall of the temple was a woman with a shaved skull. She had a kind face. Her name was Ustarte. One morning I awoke, and Nian was no longer joined to me.