White Wolf by David Gemmell

Author:David Gemmell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780345463623
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2003-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

12

* * *

Skilgannon’s head was pounding, and his mouth was dry as he walked alongside Druss and Garianne. As they moved along the dockside he heard someone running behind them, and swung back. It was Rabalyn. The youth came alongside him. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“To see a sorceress,” said Druss. “Be careful what you say, boy. I don’t want to be carrying you back as a frog.”

“You were right,” replied Rabalyn, “you are not good at jokes.”

“A man cannot be good at everything,” said Druss, amiably.

They walked on. Skilgannon paused at a well, drew up a bucket of water and drank deeply. Bright colors were dancing before his eyes and his stomach felt queasy. He could not shake the memory of that dreadful night back in the capital. Images of the dead Sperian and the mutilated Molaire would not leave him.

“Are you all right?” asked Rabalyn, as they moved on.

“I am fine.”

“Your face looks gray.”

They came at last to the Drenai gate. Today there were six soldiers there, in bright helms and red cloaks. The guards greeted Druss warmly, and warned the travelers of the riots that had spread through the city in the night. “You should have brought your ax, Druss,” said one man.

Druss shook his head. “Not today, laddie. Today is just a quiet stroll.”

The men glanced at one another and said nothing more.

Once into the city, Garianne led them through a series of streets and alleyways. The smell of burning hung in the air, and the people they saw looked at them with undisguised hatred. Some turned their backs and moved indoors, others just glared.

Rabalyn stayed close to Skilgannon.

After a while they came to an area of older buildings and narrow streets. The people here wore shabby clothes. Children with filthy faces were playing in outside derelict houses, and scrawny dogs delved among piles of discarded garbage, seeking scraps of food.

Garianne led the way, moving across an old market square and down a set of cracked and broken steps, coming at last to an abandoned tavern. The windows were boarded, but the main door had been hastily repaired and rehung with leather hinges. Garianne opened it and stepped inside. Part of the roof had given way, and sunlight filled the interior. Several rats scurried across the rubble inside. One ran over Rabalyn’s foot. He kicked at it and missed. Garianne climbed over the fallen roof and made her way to the rear of the building, tapping her knuckles on the door that once led to the tavern kitchens.

“Come in, child,” came a familiar voice. Skilgannon felt his stomach tighten, and his flesh crawl.

“Is she really a sorceress?” whispered Rabalyn.

Skilgannon ignored him and followed Druss across the rubble.

The old kitchen area was gloomy, the windows boarded. The only light came from two lanterns, one set on the warped worktop, the other hanging from a hook on the far wall. The Old Woman was sitting in a wide chair by the rusting ovens, a filthy blanket covering her knees.

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