Quest for Lost Heroes

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chien-tsu opened his eyes. Around him the mountains reared like the spears of the gods, looming and threatening. An icy wind howled through the crags. His servant, Oshi, was huddled by a small fire, his face blue with cold. Chien shivered.

'She is dead,' he said, picturing Mai-syn as he had last seen her, radiant and happy, her dress of yellow silk shining in the sunlight.

'As always then, lord, you were correct,' said Oshi.

'I had hoped to be wrong. Come, let us find a cave.' Oshi was reluctant to leave even the illusory warmth of the small fire, but he rose without complaint and the two men led their horses along the winding mountain path. There were no trees at this height, only an occasional stunted shrub cloaked in snow. The walls of the mountains rose sheer to the left and right of the travellers, and there was no sign of a cave or shelter of any kind beyond shallow depressions in the rock-face. Oshi was convinced they would die here. It was three days since they had eate.i — and that had been a stringy hare brought down by an arrow from Chien's bow.

They walked on. Chien did not feel the cold; he closed his mind to it, and thought instead of the beautiful Mai-syn. He had spirit-searched the land, seeking her soul, listening for the music of her spirit.

His mood was dark now, and colder than the mountain winds.

The trail dropped into a narrow valley, then rose again. For a while they rode, but it seemed colder to sit immobile on a saddle and they dismounted. Oshi stumbled and fell and Chien turned. 'Are you weary, old man?'

'A little, lord,' he admitted.

Chien moved on. He could not stop the servant from addressing him with his title, and had long since given up the effort.

They rounded a bend in the trail and saw an elderly man sitting cross-legged on a rock. He seemed incredibly ancient, the skin of his face weathered like sandstone. He was wearing only a loin-cloth of pale skin and a necklace of human teeth; his body was emaciated, the bones sharp and jutting, like knife-blades under leather. Snow had settled on his skeletal shoulders.

'Good evening, old father,' greeted Chien, bowing.

The old man looked up and as Chien met his gaze he shuddered inwardly. The eyes were blacker than night, and cold with an ancient malice. The man smiled, showing several blackened teeth.

His voice whispered out like a breeze across tombstones. 'Mai-syn angered Jungir Khan. He threw her to his Wolves, who used her and threw her back. In her despair she cut her throat with a pair of silver scissors. It happened less than a month after her arrival.'

Chien felt his stomach heave, but he fought to keep all expression from his face.

'A simple "good evening" would have been sufficient to open the conversation, old father. But thank you for the information.'

'I do not have the time for pleasantries, Chien-tsu, nor the elaborate and inane rituals of the Kiatze.' The old man laughed. 'Look around you — this is Nadir land. It is cold, inhospitable. Only the strong survive. Here there are no green fields, no verdant pastures. A warrior is old by the time he is thirty. We have no energy to spend on pretty words.' He waved one hand. 'But that is of no matter. It is important only that you are here, and that your desire for vengeance is strong. Follow me.' Nimbly he leapt from the rock and walked away into the snow.

'He is a demon,' wailed Oshi. 'That loin-cloth is human skin.'

'I do not care for his lack of sartorial elegance,' said Chien. 'If he is a demon I will deal with him, but let us hope he is a demon with a warm cave.'

They followed the old man to what seemed a sheer rock-face. He disappeared and Oshi began to tremble, but Chien walked to the rock wall and found a narrow opening, almost invisible from the outside. He led his horse within and Oshi followed him.

Inside it was dark and cold. From somewhere in the shadows Chien heard a soft chanting. Torches sprang to life in rusted brackets on the walls. His horse reared but he calmed the beast, stroking its neck and whispering soothing words. The travellers moved on into a torch-lit tunnel that branched out into a deep cave where a fire was burning without wood.

'Sit,' said Asta Khan. 'Warm yourselves.' He turned to Oshi. 'I am not a demon; I am worse than demons. But you have no need to fear me.'

Thank you, sir. Thank you,' said Oshi, bowing deeply.

Asta Khan ignored him, locking his gaze to Chien. 'And you do not fear me at all, man of Kiatze. That is good. I am not comfortable around fearful men. Sit! Sit! Make yourselves comfortable. It is long since I had visitors.'

'How long have you been here?' Chien asked, settling himself by the magical fire.

'I came when my lord was murdered. He was Tenaka Khan, the Khan of Wolves, the Prince of Shadows,' related the old man, his eyes shining with pride. 'He was the Great One, the heir of Ulric.'

'I believe I have heard the name,' said Chien. Anger flashed in Asta's eyes, but he masked it and smiled thinly.

'All men have heard it, even the soft-bellied Kiatze. But let it pass. Your people are renowned for cynicism — but I watched you fight, Chien-tsu. I saw you kill Kubai and the others. You are skilful — and fast. Very fast.'

'And you have need of my skills, old father?'

'I see your mind works as swiftly as your body. Yes, I have need of you. And you have need of me. It makes for an interesting debate, I think. Which of us needs the other more?'

'Not at the moment,' replied Chien. 'As matters stand I need you not at all.'

'Then you know how to get into the Khan's palace?' asked Asta.

'Not yet. But I will find a way.'

'No,' said Asta, 'you will not. But I can take you on a path which leads to the throne room. Alone you would not survive, for there are the Dwellers in the Dark to stop you. I will give you Jungir Khan. I will give you the means of vengeance.'

'And in return, old father?'

'You will aid the ghosts-yet-to-be.'

'Explain further.'

Asta shook his head. 'First we will eat. I can hear your servant's belly rumbling. Take your bow and walk from the cave. A deer is waiting there — kill it.'

Chien rose and walked back to the cave entrance. The old man was right for a doe stood trembling near the entrance, her eyes open and unblinking. Chien notched an arrow and stood for a moment looking at the beast, then he turned and retraced his steps.

'Oshi, take a knife and despatch the beast. There is no sport there.'

Asta Khan cackled loudly, rocking back and forth on his haunches.

Chien ignored him. 'Tell me of Tenaka Khan,' he said and the old man took a deep breath.

'He was the sun and moon of the Nadir people — but he was cursed with tainted blood. Half Drenai, half Nadir, he allowed himself to love a woman. I do not mean to take her for his own — although he did this. But he surrendered his soul to her. She died giving birth to his daughter Tanaki, and in dying she took part of the Khan's soul to Hell or Heaven. He ceased to care about his life, allowing the years to drift by. His son, Jungir, poisoned him. That is Tenaka Khan. What more do you wish to know?'

'You were his shaman?'

'I was and I am. I am Asta Khan. I placed the Helm of Ulric on his head. I rode beside him when he conquered the Drenai, and the Vagrians, when the armies of the Nadir rode into Mashrapur and Lentria. He was the fulfilment of our dreams. He should never have died. He should have lived for ever, like a god!'

'And what do you seek, Asta Khan?' asked Chien. 'Not merely vengeance?'

Asta's eyes shone for a moment, then he looked away. 'What I desire is of no concern to you. It is enough that I can give you that which you desire.'

'At this moment I desire nothing more than a hot bath.'

'Then you shall have one,' said Asta, rising. 'Follow me.' The old man rose and walked to the back of the cave, where a shallow pool had filled with melted snow from a fissure above. Asta knelt by it, dipping his hand to the water. He closed his eyes and spoke three harsh-sounding words which were lost on Chien. The water began to bubble and hiss, steam rising.

'A hot bath for the Kiatze lord,' said Asta, standing. 'Is there anything else you require?'

'A young concubine to read me the works of Lu-tzan?'

'Make do with the hot bath,' Asta told him, striding away.

jChien stripped his clothes and slid into the pool. The water was hot but not uncomfortable, despite having reached boiling point. He recalled the story of Hai-chuan, a young man accused of stealing a royal gem. Hai-chuan had pleaded innocence, and was sentenced to trial by ordeal. He had to place his hands in a pot of boiling water. If he was innocent, the gods would protect his flesh; if guilty, his skin would blister and burst. He was from the mountains and he begged the magistrate to allow him to suffer his ordeal directly under the gaze of the All-father in Heaven. Touched by his piety, the magistrate agreed and Hai-chuan was taken to the top of a high mountain. There they boiled a pot of water and he placed his hands within it. There was not a mark upon him — and he was freed. Later he sold the gem and lived like a prince. Chien smiled. It was due to the altitude, he knew. Water boiled at a much lower temperature in the mountains.

He lazed for a while in the water, then climbed out and returned to the fire to sit, naked, by the flames.

Oshi had cut the best pieces from the loins of the doe, and the smell of cooking meat filled the cave.

'Now tell me of the ghosts-yet-to-be,' said Chien.

Tanaki watched the men ride away, then eased herself to her feet, stifling a groan as pain roared through her. Unsteadily she rose and straightened her back. Nausea threatened to swamp her, but she forced her stomach to remain calm.

'You should rest,' said Kiall, who had moved alongside her, one hand held out.

She made no reply. Bending to one side, she gently stretched the muscles of her waist and hips. Lifting her arms over her head, she eased the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her father had taught her these exercises many years before. 'The warrior's body,' he had said, 'must always be supple.' More confident now, she spun on her heel and leapt, twisting in the air. She landed clumsily.

'Can I help?' asked Kiall.

'Yes. Hold out your hands.' He did so and her long leg swung up, her heel resting on his palms. She bent forward, grasping the back of her ankle, holding the position for a while and then switching to the other leg. Finally she lifted the blanket from her shoulders and stood naked before Kiall. He blushed and cleared his throat. 'Place your hands on my shoulders,' she said, turning her back on him, 'and gently press at the muscles with your thumbs. Where they are rounded and supple, move on. Where they are knotted and tense, ease them.'

'I do not know how,' he told her, but tentatively his hands touched her skin. She sat down on her blanket with Kiall kneeling behind her. Her skin was smooth and white, the muscles beneath strong and firm, as his fingers moved over her.

'Relax, Kiall. Close your eyes. Think of nothing. Let your hands search.'

His fingers slid down over the shoulder-blades. The muscles on the right side felt as if pebbles had been inserted into them. With great care he rubbed at them, growing more confident as the tautness faded. That is good,' she told him. 'You have fine hands — healing hands.'

He could feel himself becoming aroused, and hated himself for it. After what she had been through, it was wholly wrong for a man to react to her in this way. His hands losing their sureness, he stood and walked away. Tanaki covered herself with the blanket cloak and lay back on the ground. The pain of her body was less now, but she would never forget the abject humiliation she had suffered. The memory of the sweating men, the stink of them, the pawing and the pain would remain with her always. She shivered and rolled to her feet. Kiall's horse stood tethered nearby; she saddled him and stepped into the stirrup, easing herself to his back. Kiall saw her and ran forward. 'Where are you going?' he asked, his voice full of concern.

'I cannot start the rest of my life dressed like this,' she said. 'My clothes are down there in the hall. And I will need weapons.'

Til come with you,' he offered, holding out his hand. She took it and he vaulted to the saddle behind her. 'This is not wise, Tanaki.'

'The merits cannot be decided until we are done,' she told him.

The bodies had been removed from the settlement, but dried blood still stained the ground and the wood of the auction platform. Tanaki slid from the saddle and entered the hall. Kiall tethered his horse and moved to the ramparts, keeping watch for Nadir warriors. As the minutes passed, he felt his tension rise. Hearing the sound of booted feet on the steps he whirled, scrabbling for his sabre. Tanaki laughed at him. She was clad now in trousers of soft oiled leather and high riding-boots. Her upper body was clothed in a matching hooded tunic, and two short swords were belted at her hips. Over her shoulder was slung a fur-lined cloak of black leather, and in her hand she carried a canvas pack.

'You have all you need?' he asked.

'Not quite. I need the head of Tsudai — but that will come to me.'

They rode back to the camp-site and tethered the horse. Tanaki drew her swords. 'Come,' she said to Kiall, 'show me your skill.'

'No. I… I'm not very good. I am not a warrior, you see.'

'Show me.'

Embarrassed, he drew his sabre and dropped into the stance Chareos had taught him. As she leapt forward his sabre blocked her thrust, but she spun, her second sword-blade falling to touch his neck. 'You are too stiff,' she told him.

'I loosen up when I am afraid,' he said, with a smile.

'Then be afraid!' she said, her voice low and chilling. Her sword swept towards his head and he jumped back, but she followed him in. He blocked one thrust, then a second. . she spun, but he dropped to his knees, her blade slashing the air where his head had been. As her sword sliced down, he dived to his left and rolled. 'That is better,' she said, 'but unless you are a master — which you are not — you should fight with sabre and knife. That would double your killing power.'

Sheathing her blades she walked to the brow of the hill, staring out over the land.

Kiall joined her. 'You still intend to rescue your lady?' she asked him.

'Yes, if I can. But she is not my lady, she never was. I know that now.'

'You blame me for that, Kiall.'

'I blame you for nothing, Princess. I was foolish. I had a dream, and I thought that dream was real.'

'We are full of dreams,' she said. 'We long for the unattainable. We believe in the nonsense of fables. There is no pure love; there is lust and there is need.'

'I do not believe that, Princess.'

'Another dream you think is real?'

'I hope not. There is so much sadness and hate in the world. It would be a terrible thing if love was an illusion.'

'Why did you walk away from me earlier, when you were touching me?'

'I… I don't know.'

'You lie, Kiall. I could feel the growing warmth in your hands. You wanted to bed me, did you not?'

'No!' he replied instinctively, then looked away, reddening. 'Yes, I did,' he said angrily. 'And I know it was wrong.'

'Wrong? You are a fool, Kiall. It was honest lust — do not be ashamed of it, but do not write poems about it either. I have had fifty lovers. Some were geriile, some were cruel, and some I even grew fond of. But love? If it existed, I would have found it by now. Oh, Kiall, do not look so shocked. Life is short. Joy is everything. To deny that is to deny life.'

'You have the advantage of me,' he said softly. 'I do not have your experience of life. I was raised in a village, where we farmed and we raised cattle and sheep. But there were people there who had been together for half a lifetime. They were happy; I believe they loved one another.'

She shook her head. 'A man and a woman are drawn together by animal passions; they stay together for security. But if a better, perhaps richer man comes along, or a younger, more beautiful woman, then — and only then — can you test their love. Look at you, Kiall. Three days ago you loved a woman enough to risk death for her. Now you say you did not love her after all. And why? Because I appeared. Does that not prove my point?'

He remained silent for several seconds, staring out over the horizon. Finally he spoke. 'It proves only that I am a fool. That is not hard to do.'

Tanaki moved to him. 'I am sorry, I should not say these things. I thank you for rescuing me. I will be grateful to you all the days of my life. It was noble of you — and courageous. And I thank you also for walking away back there; that was considerate. But give me a few days and I will teach you joy.'

'No!' he said. 'I do not want to learn that kind of joy.'

'Then remain a fool,' she snapped, turning and stalking away to sit alone.

For almost three weeks the questors journeyed more deeply into the lands of the Nadir, moving across the desolate Steppes towards the far, grey mountains. Occasionally they stayed in small Nadir tent settlements, but mostly they camped in hidden gulleys, caves or hollows. There was no sign of pursuit, and they saw nothing of the soldiers of Tsudai.

Chareos said little during their journey. His face was set and grim, his eyes haunted. Beltzer too had little to say. Harokas proved adept with the bow and twice brought down deer. But mostly their food came from the land in the shape of long, twisted roots, purple in colour, which made a thin but nourishing soup.

Tanaki recovered well and often entered into bantering conversations with Harokas, but Kiall saw the fear in her eyes when any of the questors came too close, watched her flinch at a touch. For some days he said nothing of it. He treated her with courtesy, though she ignored him for most of the time; he guessed she was still angry at what she saw as his rejection of her.

But one night she awoke screaming, rolling from her blankets and scrabbling for her swords. Beltzer was up instantly, his silver axe in his hands. Chareos and Kiall moved to her.

'It is all right,' said Chareos, reaching out. 'It was only a dream.'

'Get back! Don't touch me!' screamed Tanaki. Her sword snaked out and Chareos leapt back, the blade missing him by a finger's breadth.

Tanaki?' said Kiall softly. 'All is well. You were dreaming. You are with friends. Friends.'

She stepped back, her breathing ragged, her violet eyes wide and frightened. Gradually her breathing grew more calm. 'I am sorry,' she whispered, and turning on her heel, she walked from the camp-site. Beltzer returned to his blankets, grumbling. Kiall walked after Tanaki, coming upon her sitting on a flat rock. Her moonlit face was pale as ivory, and he was struck anew by her beauty. For a moment he said nothing, then he sat beside her.

She swung to face him. They must think me weak,' she said.

'No one thinks that,' he assured her. 'But I do not know how to help you, Tanaki. I can heal bruises, stitch wounds, prepare herbs that will bring down fevers. But I cannot deal with your pain.'

'I have no pain,' she said. 'I am healed.'

'I do not think so. Every night you toss and turn. Often you cry out, and sometimes you even weep. It hurts me to see you in pain.'

Suddenly she laughed and stood with hands on hips, facing him. 'I know what you want,' she said. 'You want what those soldiers wanted. Admit it. Be a man! Do not come to me with your, "It hurts me to see you in pain." You don't care for me. And why should you? As far as you are concerned I'm just another Nadir bitch, to be used when you desire it.'

That's not how I see you,' he said. 'Yes, you are beautiful. Yes, any man would desire you. But I was talking of friendship — and I do care.'

'Well, I don't want your pity either," she snapped. 'I'm not some colt with a broken leg, or a blind puppy.'

'Why are you so angry with me? If I have said — or done — anything to upset you, then I apologise.'

She seemed about to speak, but her breath came out in a long sigh and she sagged back to the stone beside him. 'I am not angry with you, Kiall.' She closed her eyes and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. 'It is not you,' she repeated. 'I cannot put it behind me. Every time I close my eyes I can see their faces, feel their hands, their. . Every time. When I sleep, they come for me. And in my dreams I think that the rescue was the dream, and this is the reality. I keep thinking about it. It isn't the rape itself, or the beating, it is. .'

Her voice faded for a moment and Kiall said nothing, allowing the silence to grow. 'I have always known about such atrocities, but until you suffer you cannot understand the enormity of it. And worse, you cannot explain it. Two of those men were once palace guards at Ulrickham. One of them used to carry me on his shoulders when I was a child. So I ask myself, how could he do that to me? And why would he want to? I feel as if the world was never how I saw it — as if a gossamer veil hung before my eyes which they ripped away, leaving me to see the vileness that is reality. Only a few weeks ago I would see that look in Harokas' eye, and I would take it as a compliment. It would make me feel good. Now? Now it is like the look a fox gives a chicken, and it terrifies me.' She looked up at him. 'Do you understand any of this?'

'I understand all of it,' he told her. He held out his hand but she backed away from it. 'Fear,' he said gently, 'is usually good. It stops us from being reckless; it gives us caution. But Chareos says that fear is a servant who longs to be the master. And he is a terrible master who must be fought, held in thrall. You are strong, Tanaki. You are iron. You are proud. Take my hand.'

'I don't think that I can,' she said.

Think back to the woman I first met. You are still her. You have suffered, but you are still the Princess Tanaki, daughter of Tenaka Khan. In you is the blood of greatness.'

He held out his hand and her fingers lifted towards it, fell away, then rose swiftly to hold tightly to his.

Tears welled in her eyes and she sank forward against him. He put his arm around her and sat with her for some time, neither of them speaking. At last she pulled away.

'Then we are friends?' she asked.

'Always,' he told her, smiling.

Together they walked back to the camp where Chareos was sitting alone, staring up at the eastern sky. He did not seem to notice them and Kiall wandered over to him.

'How are you faring?' he asked.

Chareos looked up. 'I do not need to be comforted,' he said, with a wry smile. 'You did well by her. You are a good man.'

'You followed me?'

'Yes. But I did not stay long. She's a fine woman, Kiall. Strong and beautiful.'

'I know that,' said the younger man, uncomfortable.

'If you were to ask me for advice — which you won't — I would tell you to take her away from here. Return to the lands of the Gothir, marry and raise tall sons.'

'And what would you do?' asked Kiall.

'I would continue this mad quest,' answered Chareos.

'Yes, I know. You cannot stop now,' said Kiall sadly. 'Now that it has cost the lives of three of your friends.'

'You are a gifted young man, Kiall. Intuitive and intelligent.'

'I wish I had never asked you for aid. I mean that truly.'

'I know. Sleep well, boy.'

During the weeks which followed Tanaki found herself constantly watching Kiall — enjoying his hesitant, nervous smile, the tilt of his head as he spoke. She had not completely lost her nervousness with the others, but Kiall's friendship had given her strength to battle her fears. During the long evenings Tanaki would walk away from the others and sit with her back to a rock, or a tree, and watch the men. They talked little, but in their movements there was much to read. Beltzer was a bear, a great ambling powerhouse filled with a bitterness he could not voice. Yet his actions were sure and confident, and his speed belied his bulk. Chareos was the timber-wolf, lean and canny, always checking the back-trail, always thinking, always aware. Harokas was the leopard, sleek and yet savage.

And Kiall?

He was the strongest of them all, confident enough to be gentle, humble enough to be wise. His was the strength born of caring, where the others had built their fortresses upon their talent for violence.

But what animal, she wondered? She sat back and closed her eyes, allowing her mind to relax into memories. She was back in the cold palace of Ulrickham. Jungir was playing with a set of carved soldiers, setting them out in battle formation, while she was sitting on a bearskin rug snuggled up against Nameas, the huge warhound. He had been a gift to Tenaka from the Gothir regent, and he followed the Khan on every hunt. Nameas was a killer in war, his terrible jaws rending and tearing, yet in the palace he was soft and gentle, turning his great head every now and then to lick at the infant curled up beside him.

Yes, that was Kiall. The warhound.

Often Tanaki would smile and beckon Kiall to her and they would sit long into the evening talking. She would reach out her hand and he would take it, and they would sit beneath the stars.

One evening, in the third week of travel, she was sitting alone when a shadow fell across her. She thought it was Kiall and looked up, smiling.

'May I join you, Princess?' asked Harokas, sitting down beside her.

She swallowed hard and held the smile in place. 'I did not expect you to join this quest,' she said. 'I have always thought of you as a man who looks out only for himself."

'As always you are correct, Tanaki,' he said. 'The quest means nothing to me.'

'Then why are you with us?'

That should be obvious,' he told her, reaching out to touch her arm. She shrank back instinctively and his face darkened.

'You were not so coy back in the settlement, as I recall. Many was the time you invited me to your bed on cold winter evenings.'

'That was then,' she said, holding her back stiff against the tree.

'And what has changed? We were good together, Tanaki. You were the best I ever had. And did I not satisfy you?'

'Yes, you did. You are an unselfish lover, Harokas. You know how to wait. But I have changed.'

He laughed and shook his head. 'Changed? No, not you. You are a lusty wench, and in any civilised land you would be the king's courtesan. No, don't fool yourself. You will never change.' He moved back from her, his dark eyes scanning her face. 'At first I thought it was the rape, but it's not, is it? It's the farm boy. Tanaki of the Blades has fallen for a virgin!' He chuckled. 'There's a story to liven a dull evening.'

'Be careful, Harokas,' she warned him. 'My patience is not much spoken of — and with good reason. Leave me alone.'

He shook his head and his face grew grave. 'I could never do that, Princess. You are in my blood. I want you more than I ever wanted anything.'

For a moment she said nothing, then she rose. 'What we had was good. It was more than good. But it is in the past; there is no more to be said.'

He pushed himself to his feet and bowed elaborately. 'I think you are wrong, Tanaki. But I will not push myself at you; I will be here when you come to your senses. The farm boy is not for you, he never could be. What does he know? I have seen you holding hands. Sweet! But take him to your bed and he'll rut like the peasant he is. And without his innocence what will he be, save yet another farmer? You know what the attraction is for you, don't you? It has been the same since the beginning of time, my love: the desire of the experienced for the innocent, the magnetic lure of virginity. There is an excitement there, you become the first and therefore unforgettable. But what then? No, Tanaki, it has not all been said yet. Good night to you.'

Chien-tsu watched the small group as they angled their horses across the pass. He noted that the lead rider paused often to study the trail: left and right, front and back. A careful man, then. Chien nodded in appreciation. He stood, beckoned Oshi and walked out to meet the riders as they reined in. A huge man on a sway backed gelding lifted a double-headed axe in both hands and slid from the saddle, but Chien ignored him. He reached the lead rider and gave a bow which was a fraction lower than required.

'You would be Chareos the Blademaster,' said Chien, looking up into the man's dark eyes.

'And you are from Kiatze,' responded Chareos, stepping down to stand before the small warrior.

Chien was both gratified and annoyed. It was good to be recognised as a superior human being, but the man had not returned his bow and that spoke of ill-breeding. 'Yes, my name is Chien-tsu. I am the ambassador from the court of Kiatze. The shaman, Asta Khan, asked me to guide you to him.'

'I don't like the look of him, Blademaster,' said Beltzer, moving alongside Chareos.

'And I am not overly impressed with you,' remarked Chien. 'Save for the smell, which is truly awe-inspiring.'

'You have a large mouth for such a little man,' Beltzer hissed.

'Better that than to be a giant with a brain the size of a pebble,' replied Chien, stepping back and dropping into a hand-fighting stance.

'Be silent, Beltzer,' said Chareos, 'we have enough enemies without adding more.' He turned to Chien and bowed deeply. 'It is a pleasure to meet you, ambassador. You will forgive, I hope, the words of my companion. We have been riding for weeks, with little food, and we have lost three of our comrades. We are short on provisions, on stamina, and on courtesy.'

Chien nodded. 'A graceful apology, sir. Perhaps you would follow me, and then we can see to the introductions? There is venison and a warm fire in the cave.'

Chien spun on his heel and marched off, followed by Oshi. Beltzer grinned. 'Plucky little game-cock, isn't he? I'm damned if I don't like him.'

'That is just as well,' said Chareos softly. 'Had you attacked him he would have killed you.' Without another word Chareos stepped into the saddle and touched his heels to the grey.

At the cave the questors finished the venison with a speed that, to Chien at least, was more gorging than dining. Still, they were barbarians after all, and little more could be expected of them.

'Where is Asta Khan?' asked Chareos, wiping the fat from his fingers on to the front of his shirt.

'Sleeping,' answered Chien. 'He will join us this evening. Perhaps we could complete the introductions?'

'Of course. Well, that is Beltzer.' The giant grinned and thrust out a hand. Chien looked down at it with some distaste. It had all the aesthetic appeal of a shovel: the fingers were thick and short, ingrained with dirt, and there were grease stains on the skin. Chien sighed and gripped the hand briefly. Harokas merely nodded, as did Tanaki, but Kiall also offered his hand. This one at least was clean.

'So why is an ambassador from the east dressed as a Nadir rider?' asked Chareos.

Chien told him of the bridal gift, and of the attack upon his party. 'Unfortunately treachery is a way of life among the Nadir,' he said.

'Not only the Nadir,' put in Tanaki, her face blushing. 'The Gothir too have a long history of betrayal and broken promises.'

'I am sorry, Princess,' said Chareos. 'You are of course correct; it was a discourteous comment. But tell me, ambassador, what are your plans? Why have you not tried to reach a port for a ship home?'

'All in its own time, Chareos,' answered the warrior. 'But for now I have offered my aid to Asta Khan, and he is willing to help you. That, I believe, makes us companions.'

'You are more than welcome to travel with us, but I would appreciate knowing your purpose. It does not sit well with me to have a comrade whose plans are a mystery.'

'That I can understand. But I will follow your lead and even your instructions as leader of the group. You need know no more. When my own plans are more stone than smoke, I will inform you — and we will part company.'

Chien moved to the rear of the cave and settled down alongside a second fire, built for him by Oshi. He was more relaxed now. Chareos was almost civilised, and a thinking man. Beltzer was obviously no great thinker, but he wielded the huge axe as if it was no weight at all. The woman was unusual — great facial beauty, but with a body too stringy and boylike for Chien's taste. Yet her eyes radiated strength and purpose. Chien could identify no weak point within the group, and that pleased him.

He settled down to sleep.

Chareos wandered to the cave-mouth, looking up at the stars. There were few clouds and the vault of Heaven was enormous, breathtaking in its scale.

'Welcome to my hearth,' said a sibilant voice and Chareos felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stiffen. He turned slowly. Squatting in the shadows was an old man, wearing a thin loin-cloth of skin and a necklace of human teeth.

'Thank you, Asta Khan,' replied Chareos, moving to sit opposite the old man. 'I am glad to see you well.'

'Your aid was vital. I will not forget it.'

'Okas is dead,' said Chareos.

'I know. Protecting me was a great trial for him and he had little strength left. Now I shall aid you. I know a way into the city — into the bowels of the palace. There you can rescue the woman.'

'Why would you do this, shaman? And do not tell me about paying a debt: that is not the Nadir way. What do you hope to gain?'

'What does it matter?' asked Asta, his face a mask, his eyes cold and impenetrable.

'I do not enjoy playing another man's game.'

'Then let me say this — I have no interest in the woman. You may take her. That is what you want, is it not? There is nothing else you desire?'

'That is true enough,' answered Chareos, 'but now I have two men with their own secret plans.'

Asta cackled and the sound made Chareos shiver. 'The Kiatze? He wishes only to kill Jungir Khan. No more. When the time is right, he will leave you. Now you have only one man to concern yourself with.'

Chareos was uneasy, but he said nothing. He did not like Asta Khan and knew there was more to be said. Yet he could find no words. The old man watched him, his eyes unblinking. Chareos had the feeling his mind was being read.

'You must rest tonight,' said Asta. 'Tomorrow we walk the Path of Souls. It will not be an easy journey but, with luck and courage, we will pass through.'

'I have heard of this Path,' whispered Chareos. 'It is between worlds and it is said to be inhabited by evil creatures. Why must we walk it?'

'Because even as we speak the general Tsudai is riding towards us. He will be in the mountains by dawn. But, of course, you may prefer to fight three hundred men. .'

'Three of our party are dead already. I wish to see no more die.'

'Sadly, Chareos, such is the fate of the ghosts-yet-to-be.'