David Gemmell - The Swords of Night and Day

‘Are you a friend of Landis Kan’s?’ she asked him.

‘A friend? No. In fact I am beginning to dislike him immensely.’

‘I used to like him,’ she said. ‘He came often to my mother’s house, and would sit chatting to me. He talked of distant lands, and said he would like to take me there. As a child I looked forward to his visits.’

‘What changed?’ he asked, though he already knew the answer.

‘I stopped being a child. How was it you were able to command that beast?’

‘I did not command him. I gave him a choice. He chose wisely.’

‘He might change his mind.’

‘Aye, he might. And that would not be wise. How is your friend Stavut?’

‘He has a mighty lump on his head, and is sleeping.’ She laughed, the sound rich and familiar. ‘He is not a warrior, but he is very, very brave.’

‘And in love with you — according to Kinyon.’

Her smile faded. ‘I don’t know what that means. I know that I am beautiful, and that men want to possess that beauty. Why must they call it love?’

‘Why does it anger you?’ he countered.

‘Because it is dishonest. Does the bull love the cows in the herd? No, he just desires to push his swollen penis into somewhere warm and inviting. And when he is done he walks away and chews grass.

Is that love?’

‘Perhaps it is. I do not know. I have never chewed grass.’

Her laughter rippled out. ‘You are a handsome man, and you have wit. How is it that you lost this woman you “loved with all your heart”?’

‘I have pondered that question for. . a long, long time. I have no answers. Sometimes there are no answers.’

‘That cannot be. There are always answers.’

‘Why does the sun rise and fall?’

She smiled at him. ‘I do not know — but then that only means that I do not know the answer. It does not mean there is no answer.’

‘That is true.’

‘Did she love you?’

‘Let us talk of other things,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘When Landis Kan visited you did he ask about your dreams?’

‘Yes,’ she answered, surprised. ‘How would you know that?’

‘I know Landis Kan,’ he hedged. ‘And what were those dreams?’

‘Ordinary childish dreams. I dreamt of castles and palaces, and great heroes who would carry me away. .’ She faltered, and her expression changed. ‘I dreamt of a man with eyes the colour of sapphires. I remember that now. He had eyes like yours. And he had two swords.’ She shivered suddenly. ‘Oh, this is all too silly.’ Pushing herself to her feet once more she said: ‘I am going back to. .

to check on Stavut.’

Skilgannon said nothing, and watched her walk away.

Alone again, he sought to focus his thoughts. It was not easy. Jianna had always stirred his blood -

virtually from the first moment he had met her. And after all the hardships, the cruelties, and her ruthless need for power, he had still yearned for her on that last day on the battlements.

Askari is not Jianna, he told himself. She is merely a twin. And yet. .

Would it not be glorious to hold her close, to kiss those lips? To feel her warm flesh against his own?

Who would you be making love to, he countered? You would be holding Askari and thinking of Jianna. Was there a worse insult to a woman than that?

Closing his eyes he began to breathe deeply, seeking calm. This is not a time to let emotions run free, he thought. Concentrate on the important issues.

Landis claimed to have resurrected him to fulfil an ancient prophecy. Skilgannon believed this to be true. He could also understand why Landis experimented with the process on the bones of Druss. But Jianna? When she died her body would have been returned to Naashan, and buried there, thousands of miles across the ocean. Why had Landis sought her? Was she part of the prophecy? Another thought came to him. Why had he failed to restore Jianna? If Skilgannon had been trapped in the Void for his sins, then surely Jianna would have been similarly cursed? Unless her soul had been destroyed in that awful place. Skilgannon shivered. Aye, that would be it. She was a good swordswoman, and courageous. But to survive the Void called for more than that.

He rose, then moved into a series of exercises, stretching his tired muscles and seeking to free his mind. The effort relaxed his body, but troublesome thoughts continued to prowl his mind with restless intensity.

Why were the forces of the Eternal hunting Askari? If she was part of the prophecy why had Landis not told him? He sat alone for several hours, seeking answers. In the end he accepted defeat. This problem could not be solved by reason alone. There were too few facts. Only Landis had the answers.

Skilgannon finally relaxed.

Tomorrow they would head back to Petar. Then all would become clear.

Unwallis had been gripped by a sense of foreboding as he rode up the long hills towards the lands of Landis Kan. Dead Jiamads were everywhere, the bodies rotting on the hillsides. Black carrion birds, gorged and fat, pecked at the corpses, while others sat in the tree branches, staring at the riders with cold, hungry glances.

The bodies should have been cleared away and burnt. The grey-haired ambassador glanced back at the column of riders behind him. Their horses were skittish, with the scent of corruption in the air.

Unwallis rode on, the foreboding turning to anger as he saw the desolation in Petar itself. Smoke was still rising from burnt-out buildings, and there were few people to be seen. The Eternal’s Jiamads roamed the streets, and here there were more bodies, many of them human.

At the palace there were no servants to take care of the horses. Unwallis ordered the cavalry captain to find the stables and see to the mounts, then dismounted and trod up the steps to the gloomy main entrance. No lanterns had been lit and his footsteps echoed through the empty halls. His clothes were travel-stained, his hooded grey cloak wet from a recent downpour. He had hoped for a hot bath and a relaxed meal before beginning his investigations.

There was no such hope now. The place echoed like a great tomb.

Mounting the stairs, he walked past the near decapitated body of a servant, then through to a rear upper balcony to gaze down on the gardens below. A pyre had been set there, and ash had blown across the flower beds. The last remains of Landis Kan. No hope of resurrection for you, Landis, old friend, he thought. Unwallis rubbed at his weary eyes. Slowly he searched the building, seeking Decado.

He found five more bodies, three men and two women, lying together in an upper corridor. All carried similar slashing wounds; two had their throats sliced open, while the others had been hacked in what was obviously a frenzied attack. This was what happened when matters were left in the hands of a psychopath like Decado. The town was a near ruin, the people fled or murdered, the palace a shell.

Surely, he reasoned, the Eternal would not forgive this disaster. Decado was finished. There was no exultant joy in Unwallis as he considered this. The first body he had seen in the palace had been that of a plump, elderly man, ashamed of going bald. He had grown his hair long above his right ear, and had swept it up and over his crown. An ordinary palace servant, skilled, no doubt, at cooking or cleaning.

Unwallis had paused to stare at his face. There was a look upon it of horror and shock. He would have had no reason to believe that a berserk warrior would leap upon him and hack him to death.

Yes, it was good that the Eternal would finally see what a monster she had allowed to roam free. But not at the cost of even one old man’s life.

He found Decado asleep on a couch in Landis Kan’s apartments. He was unshaved, his dark clothes stained with blood. He awoke as Unwallis entered. The swordsman’s hooded eyes were red-rimmed and he looked weary.