The Swords of Night and Day Read Free Page A

doughty fighters, but we have survived this long here for two reasons. Firstly, my domain is largely inaccessible and offers no mineral wealth. Secondly, the passes are guarded by our own Jiamads.” Landis hesitated, seeing the look of noncomprehension on Skilgannon’s face. “Ah, but I see that I am getting ahead of the tale. You have no knowledge of the Jiamads. In some ancient lands they were known as werebeasts, I believe, though in your time the word was
Joinings.
Men and beasts melded together.”
    Skilgannon’s face hardened, his eyes glittering in the lantern light.
    “You remember them?” asked Landis.
    “A glimpse only. But yes, I fought them.”
    “And you won!”
    “There is nothing that bleeds that I cannot kill, Landis.”
    “Exactly my point! You will not find more than a handful of men in this land who would dream of saying that about Jiamads. We are on the verge of becoming a defeated species, Skilgannon.”
    “And you think I can change this unhappy situation? Where is my army?”
    “There is no army, but I still believe you are the one man who can save us.”
    “Why?”
    Landis shrugged and spread his hands. “There was a prophecy concerning you, Skilgannon. It was originally inscribed on tablets of gold. And signed by the Blessed Priestess herself. But these were lost. Copies were made from memory, but many of these contained contradictions. However, there was a map that showed the place where the Priestess hid your body. It was a cunning map. Delightfully conceived. And all who followed it found only an empty sarcophagus in a cave. Beside it was a shattered lid. So they went away, disconsolate.”
    “But you didn’t?”
    “Oh, yes I did. Many times. I wish I could say that I deciphered the riddle of the map through the enormous power of my intellect alone. But I did not. I had a vision—a dream, perhaps. I had been searching the cave again—my fifteenth journey there, I believe. I was tired and I fell asleep. I dreamed of the Blessed Priestess. She took me by the hand and led me from the cave, and down onto the arid wasteland at the foot of the mountains to a dry riverbed. Then she spoke. ‘The answer is here, if you have the eye to see it.’ This was similar to what was written at the base of the map:
The hero lies here, if you have the eye to see it.
    “I awoke with the dawn and walked out to the cave entrance, staring out over the land below. There was the dry riverbed. Once the water had flowed, and the river had been bisected by an island. Now there were only two dry channels etching the ground on both sides of a high, circular mound of rocky earth. From the high point of the cave it looked as if someone had carved a giant eye in the land. I cannot tell you how excited I was as I led the digging party across to the mound. At the center of it we dug. Some seven feet down we struck the stone lid of your coffin.”
    “I can appreciate your delight,” said Skilgannon, “but I am finding this talk of my coffin unsettling. Move on to the prophecy.”
    “Of course, of course! Forgive me. The prophecy promised that you would be the man to . . . to restore our freedoms.”
    “You hesitated.”
    Landis gave a nervous smile. “You are very sharp, my friend. I was trying to avoid unnecessary explanation. It actually says that you are the man who will steal the power of the silver eagle and restore peace and harmony to the world.”
    “So you have based all your hopes on an old prophecy?”
    “Yes, I have. But I am heartened by the fact that the Resurrectionists also believe it. Both sides have been searching for your remains for hundreds of years. There was—still is—a huge reward for whoever finds your tomb. They fear you, Skilgannon. It is my earnest hope that they are right to do so.”
    Skilgannon said nothing for a moment. “Who was this Blessed Priestess?” he asked, at last.
    “Some believe her to have been a goddess, who surrendered immortality for her love of humanity.