Moving away from his camp he walked up to the ramparts of Wall Six. From here he could just see a twinkling campfire. Harad had other stores of wood down at Wall Four, but he obviously wanted to be alone. Skilgannon decided to return to his own blankets. Just then a sudden wind rippled across him.
‘ Where are you, laddie?’
Skilgannon froze — then spun round. There was no-one close. His heart began to beat wildly. ‘Druss, is that you?’
‘ Come down to my fire,’ whispered a voice in his mind.
Skilgannon knew that voice, and it was as if a cool, welcome breeze had arrived on a hot summer’s day. Swiftly he set off through the darkened tunnel, and down to the gate of Wall Four. As he emerged on the open ground before it he paused. The camp-fire was burning brightly. Close by Harad was swinging the axe in a series of overhand sweeps and sideways cuts. But it was not Harad. Skilgannon had watched the young logger practising earlier. Unused to the heft of the weapon, his movements had been clumsy and untrained. This man was a master.
Skilgannon did not move. Moonlight glistened on the flashing axe blade. Memories flowed through the swordsman’s mind: the attack on the citadel, the rescue of the child, Elanin, the last farewell on the high ramparts. He stared at the giant figure, his emotions roiling.
The axeman plunged Snaga into the ground and turned towards him. ‘Good to see you, laddie,’ said Druss the Legend.
Skilgannon took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Sweet Heaven, it is better than good to see you, Druss.’
Druss stepped in and patted Skilgannon’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get used to it,’ he said. ‘I shall not be here long.’ He swung round, his pale eyes scanning the ancient ramparts. ‘Egel’s Folly they used to call it,’ he said. ‘But it proved its worth.’ Druss wandered back to the fire and sat. Skilgannon joined him.
‘Why can you not stay?’
‘You know why. This is not my life, boy. It belongs to Harad.
Ah, but it is good to breathe mountain air again, and to see the stars. But let us talk of you. How are you faring?’
Skilgannon did not answer at first. The shock at seeing Druss had been replaced by a huge sense of relief. He was no longer alone in an alien world. Now that relief had been dashed. The loneliness was merely waiting in the shadows. ‘I should not be here, Druss. It is that simple. I lived my life.’
‘No, you shouldn’t, laddie. What are your plans?’
‘To go back to Naashan. Apart from that I have none.’
Druss remained silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps that is your destiny,’ he said, doubtfully. ‘I don’t think so, though. You came back. There will be a reason for it — a purpose. This I know.’
‘I was brought back because an arrogant man believed in an ancient prophecy. He thought I rode a horse with wings of fire. He thought I could change the horrors of this new world.’
‘Maybe you can.’
Skilgannon laughed. ‘I am one man, with no army.’
‘Ah, laddie! If you need an army you’ll find one.’ Druss looked round at the ruined fortress. ‘This was what I was born for, all those centuries ago. To come to this place and help save a nation. One old man with an axe. That was my destiny. This is yours. Here and now.’
‘More like punishment than destiny,’ said Skilgannon, without rancour. ‘A thousand years in the Void.
Now this. At least I knew why I was in the Void.’
‘No, you did not,’ said Druss quietly. Before Skilgannon could reply the axeman glanced up at the high peaks. ‘There is evil here, walking these mountains. I can feel it. Innocent blood will be shed.’
‘What evil?’
‘Do you have your swords?’
‘I will not use them, Druss. I cannot.’
‘Trust me, you are stronger than the evil they carry. You will need them, boy. And Harad will need you.’ Druss sighed. ‘Time I was leaving.’
‘No! Stay just a little while longer.’ Skilgannon heard the sound of desperation in his voice, and struggled for calm.
‘I can only guess at how lonely you must feel, laddie,’ said Druss. ‘But I cannot stay. There is someone I must protect. The Void is no place to be alone for long.’
‘I don’t understand. You are trapped in the Void? It makes no sense.’
‘I am not trapped. It is my choice to be there now. When I choose to leave I can. You don’t remember much of it, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Probably just as well.’ He sighed. ‘Take care now.’
Skilgannon felt a sense of desolation, but he forced a smile. ‘You too, Druss. I don’t remember much, but there are beasts in the Void who could kill even you.’
Druss laughed, the sound rich and full of life. ‘In your dreams, laddie!’ he said.
Returning to the blankets by the fire the axeman lay down. His huge body relaxed — then jerked suddenly.
Harad rolled to his feet, eyes staring, fists clenched. He saw Skilgannon, and suddenly looked embarrassed. ‘I had a nightmare,’ he said. He was breathing heavily. Rising he walked to the axe and hefted it. His breathing calmed. ‘I don’t usually dream much,’ he said. ‘When I do it is always here.’
‘What did you dream of?’ asked Skilgannon, heavy of heart.
‘It is fading now. Grey skies, demons.’ Harad shuddered. ‘This time I had the axe. That is all I remember. What are you doing here?’
‘I came down to take some of your wood,’ said Skilgannon. ‘My fire went out.’
They sat in silence for a while. Then Harad spoke. ‘You know a great deal about this Druss. Do you know what he wore?’
‘A black jerkin, edged with silver plates at the shoulder. And a helm.’
‘Were there skulls upon it? In silver?’
‘Yes, alongside an axe blade.’
Harad rubbed at his face. ‘Ah, I am being stupid. Someone must have told me the story. Maybe my mother. Yes, that’s it.’
‘You dreamt of Druss?’
‘I don’t remember now,’ said Harad. He glanced at the sky. ‘Dawn is close. We should be on our way.’
Landis Kan bade his guests farewell, and watched as they mounted their horses. He was shaken by the look Decado gave him. There was a glittering hatred in his eyes, and something else. A look of anticipation that unnerved Landis. He turned back into his palace, heavy of heart, and walked to his library study. How could you have been so arrogant, he asked himself? To believe that you could deceive the Eternal; to think that you could recreate the one great moment of your life? He sat down on the wide leather chair by the window, his head in his hands.
Life had changed that day, so many centuries ago, when he had excavated the ruined palace in Naashan. One of his workers had called out to him. The man was on his knees in the mud at the bottom of a newly dug pit. Beside him, protruding from the earth, was a face, sculpted in white marble. As Landis stared at the face it seemed that the universe suddenly shifted, and all that was broken and disharmonious suddenly became perfect. The face was that of a woman — a woman more beautiful than any he had ever known in life. Scrambling down into the muddy hole he had dropped to his knees and wiped the wet dirt away from the stone face. The man beside him let out a low whistle of appreciation.
‘Must be a goddess,’ he said.
Landis Kan called more men to the pit, and slowly they unearthed the full statue. It was of a woman sitting on a throne, her arm raised to the heavens. A snake was entwined round the limb. For the next few days Landis had teams working both day and night to clear away the earth. They discovered the edges of a curved marble wall. Landis estimated it would have a diameter, if fully excavated, of around two hundred paces. As more of the wall was unearthed Landis realized it must once have edged a man-made lake. He cared nothing for the lake, nor for the ruined city. His entire focus was now on the statue. Days were spent examining it, sketching it, staring at it. Landis Kan, the young priest of the Resurrection, forgot all his teachings and found himself dreaming of the woman who had inspired this exquisite sculpture.