The Legend of Deathwalker

by David Gemmell

  The entrance to the rocks was narrow and Druss backed into it. The first three Lancers ran in to the cleft and with a roar he leapt to meet them, smashing Snaga through the helm of the first, and killing the second with a reverse cut that smashed his hip and tore open his belly. The third tried to bring his sabre to bear, but the blade bounced from Druss's black helm.

  Snaga sang out, thundering against the man's chain-mail neck-guard. The mail was well made, and prevented the blades from reaching the skin, but the sheer weight of the blow drove the links against the man's neck, smashing his spine to shards. More soldiers ran in. The first tried to block the sweep of the axe with his iron-reinforced wooden buckler, but the silver blades sliced it cleanly, half severing the arm beneath. With a scream of pain the man fell, tripping two men behind him. The narrow opening would allow only three to attack at any one time, and the rest of the Lancers milled behind the entrance. From above, the Nadir hurled rocks down upon them and sent shafts into unprotected legs.

  Druss hacked and cut, the mighty axe drenched in blood . . .

  And the Lancers fell back. A man groaned at Druss's feet; it was the soldier with the half-severed arm. Kneeling, Druss dragged the soldier's helm clear and seized the wounded man's hair. 'How many in your force?' asked the axeman. 'Speak and you live, for I'll let you go back to your friends.'

  'Two companies. I swear it!'

  'Get up and run, for I cannot answer for the archers above.'

  The man stumbled out into the open, and began to run. Two arrows bounced from his breastplate, a third nailing home into the back of his thigh. Gamely he limped on, and managed to reach his comrades.

  Two companies . . . fifty men. Druss glanced down at the bodies he could see. Seven were dead by his axe, several more had been struck by shafts and would not fight again. That still left around forty - not enough to storm these rocks, but enough to pin them down until a second force could be sent for.

  Three young Nadir climbed down to where he stood and began to strip the dead of armour and weapons. Nuang clambered down also. 'You think they will pull back?'

  Druss shook his head. 'They will look for another way in. We must get further back into the rocks, otherwise they'll find a way to get behind us. How many were in the group that attacked you on the marches?'

  'No more than a hundred.'

  'Then the question remains: Where are the other two companies?'

  Suddenly the Lancers charged again. The Nadir youngsters ran back and Druss stepped forward. 'Come in and die, you whoresons!' he bellowed, his voice booming and echoing in the rocks. The first of the Lancers sent his sabre in a hissing arc towards Druss's throat, but Snaga flashed up to shatter the blade. The soldier hurled himself back, cannoning into two of his comrades. As Druss leapt at them, they turned and fled.

  Nuang, sword in hand, appeared alongside Druss. Flames leapt up from the Nadir camp and Nuang cursed, but Druss chuckled. 'Tents can be replaced, old man. It seems to me that your luck has changed for the better.'

  'Oh, yes,' said Nuang bitterly. 'I leap with joy at this change of fortune!'

  Niobe lay on her stomach, staring down into the narrow cleft of black, basaltic rock. 'Your friend is a very great fighter,' she said, pushing her raven hair back from her face.

  Sieben hunkered down beside her. 'That is his talent,' he admitted, annoyed at her admiring tone and the way her dark, almond-shaped eyes were focused on the axeman below.

  'Why did you not fight alongside him, po-et?'

  'My dear, when Druss starts swinging that dreadful axe the last place you want to be is beside him. Anyway, Druss always likes the odds to be against him. Brings out the best in him, you know.'

  Niobe rolled to her elbow and gazed into his eyes. 'Why is it you are no longer frightened, po-et? When we ran in here you were trembling.'

  'I don't like violence,' he admitted, 'especially when it is directed towards me. But they won't follow us in here. They are Lancers, heavily armoured; they are trained for cavalry charges on open ground. Their boots are metal-reinforced and high-heeled to keep the feet in the stirrups. They are entirely unsuited to scrambling over volcanic rock. No, they will pull back now, and try to catch us in the open. Therefore, for the moment, we are safe.'

  She shook her head. 'No-one is safe here,' she told him. 'Look around you, po-et. These black rocks are part of the Towers of the Damned. Evil dwells here. Even now there may be demons creeping towards us!'

  Sieben shivered, but even in the fading moonlight he could see the amused gleam in her eyes. 'You don't believe that for a moment,' he said.

  'Perhaps I do.'

  'No, you are just trying to frighten me. Would you like to know why the Nadir believe there are demons here?' She nodded. 'Because this area is - or once was - volcanic. It would have spewed fire, poisoned ash and red-hot lava. Travellers close by would have heard great rumblings below the earth.' He swung round and pointed to the twin towers rearing towards the brightening sky. 'Those are just cones of hollow, cooled lava.'

  'You don't believe in demons?' she asked him.

  'Aye,' he said sombrely, 'I do. There are beasts which can be summoned from the Pit - but they are like puppy-dogs when compared with the demons every man carries in his heart.'

  'Your heart has demons in it?' she whispered, eyes widening.

  'Such a literal people,' he said, shaking his head and rising. Swiftly he climbed down to where Druss was waiting with Nuang and several Nadir. He noted wryly how the Nadir stood close to the axeman, hanging on his words and grinning as he spoke. Only hours before they had been lusting to kill him. Now he was a hero to them. A friend.

  'What ho, old horse!' Sieben called and Druss swung towards him.

  'What do you think, poet? Have we seen the last of them?'

  'I believe so. But we had better find another way out of these hills. I wouldn't want to be caught by them on open ground.'

  Druss nodded. Blood was staining his jerkin and beard, but he had cleaned his axe blades.

  The dawn sun glinted above the distant mountains and Druss strode to the mouth of the cleft. The Lancers had pulled back in the darkness, and were nowhere in sight.

  For another hour the Nadir waited nervously in the rocks, then several of them crept down to the smoking ruins of their camp, gathering what possessions had not been lost to the fires.

  Nuang approached Druss and Sieben. 'Niobe tells me you believe the rocks are safe,' he said, and Sieben explained once more about volcanic activity. Nuang did not look impressed, his dark flat face expressionless and his eyes wary.

  Druss laughed. 'Given a choice between demons we haven't seen and Lancers we have, I know what I'd choose.'

  Nuang grunted, then cleared his throat and spat, 'Does your axe kill demons?'

  Druss gave a cold smile and hefted Snaga, holding the blades close to Nuang's face. 'What it can cut it can kill.'

  Nuang gave a broad smile. 'I think we will walk the Hills of the Damned,' he said.

  'Never a dull moment with you, Druss,' muttered Sieben. As Druss clapped him on the shoulder, he glanced down at the blood-smeared hand. 'Oh, thank you. Just what a blue silk shirt needs, a spot of drying blood!'

  'I'm hungry,' Druss announced, swinging away with a grin. Taking a handkerchief from the pocket of his leggings Sieben dabbed at the offending mark, then followed the axeman back into the rocks. Niobe brought him food, cold meat and goat's cheese, and sat beside him as he ate.

  'Is there any water?' he asked.

  'Not yet. The gajin destroyed all but one of our barrels. Today will be dry and hot. That is a pretty shirt,' she added, reaching out and stroking the silk, her fingers lingering over the mother-of-pearl buttons at the neck.

  'I had it made in Drenan,' he told her.

  'Everything is so soft,' she murmured, stroking her hand down over his woollen leggings, and resting her palm on his thigh. 'So soft.'

  'Raise your hand any higher and it won't stay soft,' he warned her. Glancing up at hi
m she raised one eyebrow, then slid her hand along the inside of his thigh. 'Ah,' she said, 'how true.'

  'Time to be moving, poet!' called Druss.

  'Your timing is impeccable,' replied Sieben.

  For two hours the convoy moved into the black hills. There was no vegetation here, and walls of dark, volcanic rock reared above them. Silently the group pushed on, the Nadir casting fearful glances around them. Even the children remained quiet. No-one rode, for the footing was treacherous. Towards midday the ground gave way under a pony which fell, its left front leg snapping. It thrashed around until a young Nadir warrior leapt upon it, slicing open its throat; blood gushed to the rocks. The women moved forward, dragging the pony clear of the hole and butchering it. 'Fresh meat tonight,' Niobe told Sieben.

  The heat was intense now, so strong that Sieben had ceased to sweat and felt his brain was shrivelling to the size of a walnut. By dusk the exhausted party had reached the centre of the hills, and they made camp beneath one of the twin towers. For more than an hour Sieben had been lusting after a drink of water from the one remaining barrel, and he queued with the warriors for a single cup. The taste was beyond nectar.

  Later, just before sunset, he wandered away from the camp and climbed the jagged rocks towards the west-facing summit. The climb was not difficult, but it was tiring. Even so Sieben had a need to get away from the others, to find solitude. At the peak he sat down and stared out over the land. White clouds dotted the sky, peaceful and serene, and the setting sun was falling behind them, bathing the distant mountains in golden light. The breeze here was deliciously cool, the view extraordinary. The far mountains lost their colour as the sun sank lower, becoming black silhouettes like storm clouds gathering at the horizon, the sky above them turning mauve, then grey-silver and finally pale gold. The clouds also changed colour, moving from pristine white to coral red in a sea of royal blue. Sieben leaned back against a rock and soaked in the sight. At last the sky dark-ened and the moon appeared, bright and pure. Sieben signed.

  Niobe clambered up to sit alongside him. 'I wanted to be alone,' he said. 'We are alone," she pointed out. 'How stupid of me. Of course we are.' Turning from her he gazed down into the cone of the tower. A shaft of moonlight broke through the clouds and illuminated the cone.

  Niobe's hand touched his shoulder. 'Look at the ledge down there,' she said.

  'I am in no mood for sex, my pretty. Not at this moment.'

  'No, look! At the far end of the ledge.' His gaze followed her pointing finger. Some twenty feet below and to the right there was - or what appeared to be -an entrance carved into the rock.

  'It is a trick of the light,' he said, peering down into the cone.

  'And there,' she said, 'steps!' It was true. At the far end of the ledge a series of steps had been cut into the wall of the cone.

  'Go and fetch Druss,' he commanded.

  'That is where the demons live,' she whispered, as she walked away.

  'Tell him to bring a rope, torches and a tinder-box.'

  Niobe stopped and looked back. 'You are going down there? For why?'

  'Because I am a naturally curious man, my darling. I want to know why anyone would carve an opening on the inside of a volcano.'

  The moonlight was brighter now, as the clouds dispersed, and Sieben edged around the crater, moving closer to the ancient steps. Immediately above the first of them there were rope grooves in the soft rock. The steps themselves had either been hacked with great speed, or had weathered badly - perhaps both, he thought. Leaning over the rim he pushed his fingers against the first step. The rock crumbled away at his touch. Under no circumstances would these steps any longer support the weight of a man.

  Druss, Nuang and several Nadir warriors climbed up towards him. Niobe was not with them. Th old Nadir chieftain leaned over the rim and stared at the rectangular entrance below. He said nothing. Druss squatted down beside Sieben. 'The girl says you want to go down there. Is that wise, poet?'

  'Perhaps not, old horse. But I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering about it.'

  Druss peered down into the cone. 'That's a long way to fall.'

  Sieben gazed down into the black depths. The moonlight, though bright, did not reach the bottom of the cone. 'Lower me down to the ledge,' he said, hanging on to the last of his courage. There was no way now that he could withdraw. 'But don't release your hold when I reach the ledge. The rock crumbles like salt crystals and the ledge may not support me.' Tying a rope around his waist, and waiting until Druss looped it over his huge shoulders, he swung out over the rim. Slowly Druss let out the rope until Sieben's feet touched the ledge, which was solid and strong.

  Now he stood before the entrance. There was no doubt it had been carved by men. Strange symbols had been etched into the rock, swirls and stars surrounding what appeared to be the outline of a broken sword. Just inside the entrance a series of iron bars had been cemented into the black rock; these were now red with rust. Sieben gripped one of them and pulled hard, but it did not budge.

  'What is happening?' called Druss.

  'Come down and see. I'll untie the rope.'

  Moments later Druss, holding a lighted torch, joined him. 'Stand back,' said the axeman, handing the torch to Sieben and removing his rope. Taking a firm grip with both hands, Druss wrenched at the first of the bars. With a grinding groan it bent in the middle, then ripped away from the surrounding rock. Druss hurled it over his shoulder and Sieben heard it clanging and bouncing down the walls of the cone. Two more bars were prised loose in the same fashion. 'After you, poet,' said Druss.

  Sieben eased himself through the gap in the bars and held up the torch. He found himself standing in a small, round chamber. Turning, he saw two chains hanging from the ceiling. Druss appeared alongside him, and approached the chains, from one of which something dangled. 'Bring the torch closer,' ordered the axeman and Sieben did so.

  The chain held a dried and withered arm, which had torn loose from the shoulder as the corpse decayed. Lowering the torch, Sieben gazed down at the long dead, almost mummified body. The flickering torchlight shone on a long dress of decaying white silk, still strangely beautiful in this dark and gloomy setting.

  'It was a woman,' said Druss. 'Someone entombed her here alive.'

  Sieben knelt by the corpse. Glints of light came from the sunken eye sockets and he almost dropped the torch. Druss peered closer. 'The whoresons put out her eyes with nails of gold,' he said. Touching the corpse's head, he' turned it. Gold also glinted in the ear canals on both sides. Sieben wished Niobe had never seen the ledge. His heart sank with sorrow for this long-dead woman and her terrible suffering.

  'Let's get out of here,' he said softly.

  At the rim they told Nuang what they had seen. The old leader sat silently until they had finished. 'She must have been a great sorceress,' he said. 'The swirls and the stars on the entrance show that spells were cast there to chain her spirit to this place. And the nails would stop her hearing or seeing in the world of spirit. It is likely they also pierced her tongue.'

  Sieben rose and retied his rope. 'What are you doing?' asked Druss.

  Tm going back, old horse.'

  'For why?' queried Nuang. Sieben gave no answer, but swung himself once more over the rim.

  Druss grinned at him as he took up the rope. 'Ever the romantic, eh, poet?'

  'Just hand me the torch.'

  Once more in the chamber, Sieben knelt by the corpse and forced himself to push his fingers deep into the dry eye-sockets, drawing out the nails of gold. They came away cleanly, as did the longer nail in the right ear. The left was wedged deep and Sieben had to loosen it with a knife-blade. As he opened the mouth of the corpse the jaw fell clear. Steeling himself, he lifted clear the last golden nail. 'I do not know,' he said softly, 'if your spirit is now free, lady. I hope that it is.' As he was about to rise he saw a glint of bright metal within the rotted folds of the woman's dress. Reaching down, he lifted it; it was a round medallion, ringed with da
rk gold. Holding it up to the light he saw that the centre was tarnished silver and raised with a relief he could not make out. Pocketing it, he walked back out to the ledge and called out to Druss to haul him up.

  Once back in the camp Sieben sat in the moonlight polishing the medallion, bringing back its brightness. Druss joined him. 'I see you found a treasure,' said the axeman, and Sieben passed it to him. On one surface was the profile of a man, on the obverse a woman. Around the woman's head were words in a language Sieben did not recognize.

  Druss peered at it. 'Perhaps it was a coin - a king and queen,' he said. 'You think the woman was her?'

  Sieben shrugged. 'I do not know, Druss. But whoever she was, her murder was administered with the foulest cruelty. Can you imagine what it must have been like? To be dragged to that soulless place and to have your eyes put out? To be left hanging and bleeding while death crept up with agonizing lack of speed?'

  Druss handed the medallion back to him. 'Perhaps she was a terrible witch who ate babies. Perhaps her punishment was just.'

  'Just? There is no crime, Druss, for which that punishment was just. If someone is evil, then you kill them. But look what they did to her. Whoever was responsible took delight in it. It was so carefully planned, so meticulously executed.'

  'Well, you did what you could, poet.'

  'Little enough, wasn't it? You think I freed her spirit to see, to talk, to hear?'

  'It would be good to think so.'

  Niobe moved alongside them and sat next to Sieben. 'You have great tension, po-et. You need love-making.'

  Sieben grinned. 'I think you are entirely correct,' he said, rising and taking her by the hand.

  Later, Niobe sleeping beside him, Sieben sat in the moonlight thinking about the woman in the tomb. Who was she and for what crime had she been executed, he wondered? She was a sorceress, of that there was no doubt. Her killers had gone to great lengths - and greater cost - to destroy her.