White Wolf (30 page)

“The lad said Garianne was looking for me.”

“Aye, she was. But now she’s gone.”

Skilgannon chuckled. “Druss the Legend is embarrassed,” he said. “Is that a blush I see?”

Druss glared at him. “Some Datian officers have been asking questions about a number of dead men found in a stable in the Naashanite quarter,” said Druss. “Best stay low here until we leave.”

“That makes sense,” agreed Skilgannon.

“You think they’ll try again?”

“Yes. But probably not until we’re on the road. It does not concern me unduly.”

“And why is that?” asked the axman.

“I must assume Servaj used the best men he had in the first attack. They were really not very skilled. The Source alone knows what the second best will think to accomplish.”

“Beware of arrogance, laddie. I have seen great fighters brought down by an idiot with a bow. Once I saw a fine warrior felled by a stone hurled from a child’s sling. Fate has a dark sense of humor sometimes.” The axman fell silent and set about tackling the enormous plate of food. After a while he glanced up. “I saw your bout with Diagoras. Don’t judge him too harshly. He’s a good man—sound and brave and loyal.”

“I didn’t judge him, Druss. He judged me. In all likelihood his judgment is accurate. If I was a warrior told about the deeds of the Damned, I would loathe him too. You can’t change the past, no matter how much you long to.”

“Aye, there’s truth in that. We make mistakes. No point dwelling on them. As long as we learn from them. Garianne went off with a Vagrian officer. Don’t judge her too harshly either. She needs what she needs.”

“I know. Have you learned any more about this Ironmask?”

“Nothing good,” said Druss. “He’s sharp, canny, and brutal. His men were handpicked for their savagery. Not a nice bunch.”

“And you still mean to take them on alone?”

“Ultimately, laddie, we are all alone.”

“What is your plan?”

“Simplicity itself. I shall walk into the fortress, find Ironmask, and kill him.”

“Simple plans are usually the best,” agreed Skilgannon. “Less to go wrong. Have you considered the hundred and seventy warriors who are said to man the fortress?”

“No. They’d best keep out of my way, though.”

Skilgannon laughed aloud. “And you talk to me about arrogance?”

Druss chuckled. “I might think of a better plan once I’ve seen the place.”

“That would be wise,” Skilgannon agreed.

“I’m not sure you’re the man to be offering lectures on wisdom,” said Druss. “As I recall you were a general, with a palace and a fortune. You gave it all up to become a pacifist priest—an occupation, I might add, you proved wholly unsuitable for. You are now a penniless warrior, being hunted by assassins. Have I left anything out?”

“You could add that the person who wants me dead is the woman I love above all else in this world.”

“I take it back,” said Druss. “Tell me more of your wisdom, laddie. I find it strangely appealing.”

Jianna had been ten years old when first she discovered the passageway that led beneath the Royal Palace. It had been an accidental discovery. She had been playing in her father’s apartments, while he had been away with the army putting down a rebellion. Her mother had sent servants looking for her, to scold her for some infraction, and Jianna had run in to the huge and luxurious bedroom seeking a hiding place. She had sought to conceal herself behind a heavy silk curtain set against the north wall, but when she tugged on it she found that it would not move. A tiny section of it, at floor level, had become wedged in the walnut paneling of the wall behind. The ten-year-old princess found this perplexing. Gently she eased it out, and stepped behind the curtain. The two servants sent to fetch her to her mother soon gave up the search. Jianna heard them move away. Once alone she drew back the curtain and examined the paneling. It was ornately carved, and embellished with gold leaf. Above her head a golden adornment had been set into the wood. It was a lion’s head, the mouth open and snarling. On both sides of the head were golden candleholders. Jianna moved back into the room and hauled a chair to the paneling. Standing on tiptoe upon it, she studied the lion’s head. Suddenly the chair shifted. As she fell the princess grabbed the nearest candleholder. It twisted under her grip. Letting go she fell to the floor. A cold draught of air flowed across her. The paneling had opened. Beyond was a shadowed chamber. Clambering to her feet, she stepped inside. It was no more than five feet deep, ending in a barred iron door. Sliding back the bar, she pushed open the door. Beyond it was a dark tunnel. At ten the princess was too fearful to enter this frightening place. Barring the door once more, she returned to the apartment, drew the paneling shut, and pushed the candleholder back into its place, relocking the entrance.

During the following year she thought about the secret passageway often and chided herself for her childish fears. One hot afternoon, as her servants dozed in the afternoon sunshine, she crept away, back to the Royal Apartment. Taller now she could—standing on tiptoe, reach the candleholder and twist it. The panel eased open. Taking a lighted lantern, she stepped into the chamber beyond, examining the wall on the other side of the lion ornament. Here there was a simple lever. Pushing shut the paneling, she tugged on the lever. A click sounded. The paneling was now firmly shut.

Moving to the iron door, she opened it, stepping out into the passageway. It was cool here, and a flow of air made the lantern flame flicker. Moving carefully ahead, she came to a set of steps leading down. The walls glistened with damp, and a rat scurried across her foot. She almost dropped the lantern.

Jianna felt her heart beat faster as fears began to swamp her mind. What if hundreds of rats attacked her? No one would hear her screams, and, worse yet, her body would never be found. She faltered and considered going back. But she did not. Instead she recalled the instruction of the swordmaster, Malanek: “Fear is like a guard dog. It warns you when danger threatens. But if you run from all your fears the guard dog becomes a savage wolf, and will pursue you, snapping at your heels. Fear, if unopposed by courage, eats away at the heart. Once you run you will never stop.”

The tunnel seemed to go on forever. Jianna began to worry that her lantern would splutter out, leaving her in darkness. Eventually though she came to another barred door. The bar had been recently greased, and slid open easily. Opening the door just an inch, she saw beyond it an iron ladder set into a rock wall. Checkered light patterned the rocks. Pulling the door fully open, she looked up. A metal grille blocked the shaft some twenty feet above. The shaft continued down beyond the doorway, and she could not see the bottom, though she could hear running water. Leaving the lantern burning in the doorway, Jianna climbed the ladder. The grille at the top was too heavy for her to move, but glancing through it she could see the tops of trees, and hear the fountains of the Royal Park.

The tunnel, she now knew, was an escape route from the palace.

Retracing her steps, Jianna made the long journey back to the apartments, rebarring the doors as she went.

Her curiosity satisfied, she did not travel that way again, until the second year of her triumphant return to the capital. Her face stripped of the paint of nobility, her clothes ordinary, she sometimes walked the sunlit streets, or shopped in the markets alongside ordinary citizens. She would eat in taverns and listen to the conversations. Had either Askelus or Malanek known of these trips they would have become apoplectic with rage and frustration. Yet it was on adventures like this that Jianna learned what the populace truly thought of her government of their lives. It did not matter to her that she was now known among the nobility as the Witch Queen. To the common people she was a figure of awe, respected and feared. Not loved, though, as Malanek believed. In taverns and eating houses people spoke of her courage, her shrewdness, her battle skills. There was considerably more debate about her ruthlessness.

Crimes were now punished ruthlessly; thieves had three fingers of their left hand cut away for a first offense. A second offense led to death by beheading. Killers were taken back to the scenes of their crimes and executed there. Embezzlers and fraudsters were stripped of all assets. In the first year of her reign more than eight hundred people had been put to death in the capital alone. Askelus was not in favor of such extreme practices, even though the numbers of reported crimes plummetted. Jianna listened to his arguments about the need for a compassionate society, about understanding the complexities of the causes of crime. Jianna had been dismissive of his reasoning.

“A man breaks into a house and kills the owner to steal a few valuables. How many people are affected? The owner may be dead, but he might have a wife and children. He will certainly have relatives, neighbors, and friends. His relatives have neighbors and friends. Perhaps a hundred people in all. Like a rock hitting the surface of a still lake, the ripples of this crime spread out. People become worried about their own homes and their own lives. When then the murderer is dragged back to the house and killed there, people relax. Justice has been done.”

“And what if the wrong man has been killed for the crime?”

“It makes no difference, Askelus. A crime has been punished. A hundred people are satisfied that society will avenge crime.”

“Does the man unjustly killed not have family and friends and neighbors, Majesty?”

“And that is the curse of intelligence, Askelus. Intelligent people always seek to see the other side of the problem. They look for cause and effect, balance and harmony. They focus on the poor man who steals a loaf of bread to feed his family. Oh woe, they cry, that we live in a society where a man can be reduced to such a state. Let us therefore give free food to all, so that no one will ever steal bread again.”

“I do not see a problem with that, Majesty. There is food enough.”

“There is now, Askelus. But travel a little further down this road and what do you see? Men and women who no longer have to work for food. They breed and they multiply, producing more and more people who do not have to work for food. Where do they then live, these people who do not work? Ah, then we give them free houses perhaps, and horses so that they may travel. What of clothes to wear? How can they afford them, these people who do not work? And who pays for this road to madness, Askelus?”

He had not been convinced and had spoken of building more schools, and the training of the poor to give them new skills. This idea
did
have appeal. Jianna’s new empire would need more skilled men and women. So she had allocated funds from the treasury for the creation of more schools, teachers, and even the building of a university. Askelus had been delighted.

As time passed Jianna continued to use the secret passageway, traveling more and more through the city. Shopkeepers and tavern owners came to know her, and she built a new identity. She was Sashan, the wife of a traveling merchant. She even bought a cheap, silver wedding band, which she wore on her right wrist. This kept most of the single men from bothering her as she moved through the city. The ones untroubled by the band she sent on their way with harsh words and a flash of her eyes.

An area a mile south of the palace became a favorite haunt for her. There was a square here, and a marketplace. Women would often gather around the well at the center of the square. There were benches and seats, and the women would chat to one another about life, and love, and the raising of children. It was rare that politics entered the discussion. Even so Jianna found sitting among them hugely enjoyable.

It was there that she met Samias, the wife of a local builder. Often she would have three young children with her, and would watch them run around the square, peeking at items on the stalls. They would squabble good naturedly, or play. Samias would open her bag and remove parcels of food, and the children would sit by her feet, munching on pies, or cake or fruit. Samias was a tall woman, heavy around the hips. She constantly smiled as she watched her children. Only on the days when she was alone did her smile fade, and then Jianna saw the sadness in her eyes.

They spoke often. Mostly Jianna listened. Samias was contentedly married. Her husband was “a good man, sound and caring” and her children were a constant delight. “Life is good, so I musn’t complain,” she said, one day.

“Why do you talk of complaining?”

Samias seemed surprised. “Did I? Oh, its just a phrase.”

“You love your husband?”

“Of course. What a silly question. Wonderful man. Very good with the children. What about your man? Is he kind?”

“He’s pleasant enough,” said Jianna, suddenly unwilling to create more lies.

“That’s good. I expect you miss him when he’s away. Traveling merchant, isn’t he?”

“Yes. I don’t love him, though.”

“Ooh, you shouldn’t say that. Best to try to love him. Makes life more bearable if you can convince yourself.”

“The man I truly loved went away,” Jianna found herself saying. “I wanted him more than anyone else I have ever met. He is in my mind constantly.”

“Ah, we all have someone like that,” said Samias. “What was he like?”

“Handsome, with eyes of sapphire blue.”

“Why did he go away?”

“I wouldn’t marry him. I had other plans. We traveled together once, through a forest. Looking back I think it was the happiest time of my life. I can remember every day.” Jianna laughed. “We were hungry and we came across a rabbit with its leg caught in a trapper’s noose. He went to it and knelt beside it. The little thing was trembling, so he stroked it. Then he carefully cut the noose. I looked at him and said: “Well, are you going to kill it and cook it?” He picked the rabbit up and stroked it again. “It has such beautiful eyes,” he said, then put the rabbit down and walked away from it.”

“Softhearted then? Some men are.”

“In some ways he was. In others he was ruthless. We were attacked in the woods.” Jianna fell silent. “Ah well, long ago now,” she said, at last, realizing she was coming too close to the truth.