‘You’re doing fine,’ said Sieben softly.
‘When I’m with her there is no . . . no fire in my mind. No anger. When I was a child I hated to be laughed at. I was big and clumsy – I’d knock over pots, trip over my own big feet. But when people laughed at my clumsiness I wanted to. . . I don’t know. . . crush them. But I was with Rowena one day on the mountainside, and it had been raining. I lost my footing and fell headlong into a muddy pool. Her laughter was bright and fresh; I sat up, and I just laughed with her. And it was so good, poet, it was so good.’
‘She’s still there, Druss. Just across the wall.’
The axeman nodded. ‘I know. What do I do – scale the wall, kill the man she loves and then march up to her and say, “Remember me?” I cannot win here.’
‘One step at a time, my friend. Resha will fall. From what I gathered from Oliquar, Michanek will fight to the end, to the death. You don’t have to kill him, his fate is already sealed. And then Rowena will need someone. I can’t advise you, Druss, I have never truly been in love and I envy you that. But let us see what tomorrow brings, eh?’
Druss nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Tomorrow,’ he whispered.
‘Gorben has asked to see you, Druss. Why not come with me? Bodasen is with him – and there’ll be wine and good food.’
Druss stood and gathered Snaga to him. The blades guttered in the light from the brazier burning at the centre of the tent. ‘A man’s best friend is said to be a dog,’ said Sieben, stepping back as Druss lifted the axe.
The axeman ignored him and stepped out into the night.
*
Rowena stood by with a long robe as Michanek stepped from the bath. Smiling, she brushed two rose petals from his shoulder, then held the robe open. Michanek slid his arms into the sleeves, then tied the satin belt and turned towards her. Taking her hand he led her into the garden. Rowena leaned in towards him and he stopped and took her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. His body was rich with the smell of rose oil and she put her arms around him, snuggling in to the soft robe. Tilting back her head, she looked up into his dark brown eyes. ‘I love you,’ she said.
Cupping her chin he kissed her, lingeringly. His mouth tasted of the peaches he had eaten while lazing in the bath. But there was no passion in the kiss and he drew away from her.
‘What is wrong?’ she asked. He shrugged and forced a smile.
‘Nothing.’
‘Why do you say that?’ she chided. ‘I hate it when you lie to me.’
‘The siege is almost over,’ he said, leading her to a small circular bench beneath a flowering tree.
‘When will you surrender?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘When I receive orders to do so.’
‘But the battle is unnecessary. The war is over. If you negotiate with Gorben he will allow us to leave. You can show me your home in Naashan. You always promised to take me to your estates near the Lakes; you said the gardens there would dazzle me with their beauty.’
‘So they would,’ he told her. Slipping his hands around her waist he stood and lifted her swiftly, lightly kissing her lips.
‘Put me down. You’ll tear the stitches – you know what the surgeon said.’
He chuckled. ‘Aye, I listened to him. But the wound is almost healed.’ Kissing her twice more, he lowered her to the ground and they walked on. ‘There are matters we must discuss,’ he said, but when she waited for him to continue he merely glanced up at the stars and the silence grew.
‘What matters?’
‘You,’ he said at last. ‘Your life.’ Rowena looked at him, saw the lines of tension on his moonlit face, the tightening of the muscle in his jaw.
‘My life is with you,’ she said. ‘That’s all I want.’