David Gemmell - The Swords of Night and Day

Boulders came flying past him. Finally he swung round. ‘What are you doing?’ shouted Askari.

‘We can’t avoid what we can’t see,’ he told her.

A huge rock, twice the height of a man, came hurtling towards them. Skilgannon darted to the left. The rock crashed into a tree, snapping the trunk. The ground lurched — and opened beneath Askari. Even as she fell Skilgannon dived, his hand stretching out. Her fingers clutched at his wrist. For a moment it seemed her weight would drag him over the edge of the huge crack in the earth. But he held on. Using her feet Askari scrambled up from the yawning gap. Skilgannon hauled her to solid ground. With a grinding roar the earth closed. Dust spewed up around them. Trees were tumbling about them, and with the dust clouds and the shifting earth there was no way to avoid disaster. Skilgannon drew Askari in close, holding tightly to her. Helpless against the fury of nature she suddenly relaxed, laying her face against his cheek. And they stood, waiting for the end.

Then silence came again, and the dust slowly settled.

‘We are still alive,’ said Askari, genuinely surprised. All around them were fallen trees and massive boulders. One tree had crashed into the earth no more than ten feet from where they stood.

‘So it would appear,’ he said, releasing his hold on her. A sense of emptiness touched Askari as his arms fell away from her. ‘Where is Harad?’ he said suddenly. Together they ran back over the ruined land, searching through the fallen trees. Skilgannon found Harad pinned beneath the trunk of an elm.

Touching the axeman’s throat he felt a pulse, strong and steady. He had been hit by the upper part of the tree, and thrown from his feet. Skilgannon had no way to test for broken bones or internal injuries.

Calling out to Askari he tried to lift the tree from the unconscious axeman. It was too heavy. Even with Askari’s help he could raise it only a few inches. ‘You take the weight again,’ Askari told him, ‘and I will try to pull Harad clear.’

Crouching down he grasped the trunk, and waited for Askari to get into position alongside Harad.

‘Ready!’ she said. Skilgannon took a deep breath, then heaved at the trunk. Askari grabbed Harad’s jerkin and hauled at the huge body. Skilgannon strained to hold the trunk, as inch by inch Askari eased Harad from beneath it. ‘Clear!’ she said.

Gratefully Skilgannon released his hold. His arms were trembling and he saw there were cuts upon his palms. Ignoring the pain he ran to Harad. ‘There is no blood in his mouth,’ he said. ‘That is a good sign.

And his pulse is strong. With luck he is merely bruised and stunned.’ He glanced around. ‘We must find Charis.’

‘I found her,’ said Askari softly. ‘Let us see to Harad.’

When Harad opened his eyes he was surprised to feel no pain. He remembered the tree falling, and trying to push Charis away from it. He had hurled himself back, and the trunk had hammered into him, smashing him to the earth. His head had struck a rock, and he had been knocked unconscious for the first time in his life.

Now he felt fine, though the earthquake seemed to have caused incredible changes to the landscape.

The sky was uniformly grey, and there were no trees growing anywhere. He sat up. In fact there were no trees at all, either standing or fallen. Puzzled, he looked round. He saw Charis sitting with Skilgannon, and a bigger man just beyond them. There was something familiar about the huge figure. He was wearing a black leather jerkin, with metal plates upon the shoulders, and a round helm. And he was carrying Harad’s axe. None of this made any sense to Harad, and he looked at Skilgannon.

‘What is happening?’ he asked.

Skilgannon glanced back at the silver-bearded axeman, who moved forward and knelt beside Harad.

‘How are you feeling, laddie?’

‘Good.’ Harad looked up into the ice blue eyes. Then at the helm with the axes and skull motif. ‘You are Druss.’

‘Aye, that I am.’

Charis moved alongside him, laying her hand upon his cheek. ‘You should not be here, my love,’ she said.

‘I should be where you are. Always.’ He looked at Skilgannon. The warrior was dressed differently, in leggings and a tunic. There was no sign of his swords, and he looked more like a farm worker than a warrior. ‘I don’t understand any of this. Where is Askari?’ Harad asked him.

‘I do not know any Askari.’

‘Have you gone mad? We are travelling together.’

‘I do not know you either, my friend. My name is Geoval. My home is. . was. . on the coast. Now it is here, in this grey horror.’

‘Then I have gone mad,’ said Harad. ‘Or this is a dream?’

‘Aye, laddie, it is a dream of sorts,’ said Druss. ‘There is no easy way to say this, so I’ll be blunt.

Charis was killed on the mountainside. This is why she is here, in the Void. Why you are here is another matter.’

Suddenly something screeched down from the sky. Harad saw it and surged to his feet. The winged creature swept towards Druss, talons extended. The axeman reared up and hammered Snaga through its ribs. The demon disappeared instantly. ‘Where were we?’ said Druss. ‘Ah, yes. You should not be here, Harad. The life force is strong in you. Trust me, laddie, you cannot stay.’

Harad backed away from the axeman, then moved to Charis’s side. Taking her hand he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘This is wrong,’ he said. ‘It is all wrong. We will go back together. We will end this dream. Then we will make the life we planned.’

Charis stepped into his embrace, and kissed his bearded cheek. ‘I cannot go back,’ she said. ‘Oh, I so wish I could.’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘You don’t remember, do you? Believe me, Harad, my dear, there is no way for me to return. You will understand when you go back.’

‘I’ll not go back without you.’

‘No, Harad. Please don’t say that. You are not dead. You have a life to live.’

‘Without you I might as well be dead. And if I am not dead, then why am I here?’

‘It was love which brought you,’ said Druss. ‘I can understand that. A man should be prepared to face death for the woman he loves. Charis is right, though. This is not the place for you. Charis can feel the Golden Valley reaching out to her. I shall escort her there. And you — you can hear life calling you. I know you are resisting it, Harad. But the call will get stronger.’

Harad’s head dropped, and he kissed Charis tenderly. ‘You are my life,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to go on without you. I won’t!’

‘Love doesn’t die, Harad,’ she whispered. ‘And I will be waiting for you in that valley.’

He wanted to answer her, but felt strangely light-headed. A sense of weightlessness flowed through him. ‘Not yet!’ he shouted.

Then his weight returned, and he felt solid earth beneath his back, and mountain air filling his lungs.

Harad opened his eyes. Skilgannon was beside him to the right — the real Skilgannon, an ivory sword hilt jutting above his shoulder. Askari was sitting by his left. ‘Thought we’d lost you,’ said the warrior.

‘Your pulse faded for a while.’

‘Where is Charis?’

‘She died, Harad. I am sorry. Askari and I buried her.’

Harad tried to sit, but pain stabbed through his right side. He swore and sank back. Skilgannon spoke.

‘You are badly bruised, my friend, and may even have snapped a rib or two. You need to rest.’

‘How did she die? I pushed her away from the falling tree.’

‘A falling boulder struck her,’ said Skilgannon. ‘Death was instantaneous.’

Harad looked at the swordsman. ‘I saw your twin in the Void. He was with Druss. His name is Geoval. He lived near the coast.’