Quest for Lost Heroes

CHAPTER EIGHT

Okas sat cross-legged beneath a spreading elm and concentrated on the village below. His vision swam and the buildings blurred and faded like mist under sunlight. He had no control now, and time ceased to have meaning. He saw mountains of ice swelling on the land, filling the hollows, rearing from the peaks. Slowly, reluctantly though the centuries, the ice gave way and the long grass grew. Huge lumbering creatures moved across the face of the valley, their massive limbs brushing against new trees and snapping the stems. Aeons passed and the grass grew. The sharp hills were smoothed by the winds of time. The first oak tree took root on the southern hill, binding the soil. Birds flocked to its branches. Seeds in their droppings caused other trees to grow and soon Okas saw a young forest stretching across the hills.

The first group of men appeared from the west, clad in skins and furs and carrying weapons of bone and stone. They camped by the stream, hunted the great elk and moved on.

Others followed them, and on one bright day a young man walked the hills with a woman by his side. He pointed at the land, his arm sweeping to encompass the mountains. He built a home with a long sloping roof. There was no chimney; two holes were left at the points of the roof's triangle and Okas saw the smoke drifting from them as the snows fell. Other travellers settled close by over the years and the young man, now a leader, grew old.

A savage tribe entered the valley, slaying all who lived there. For some time they took over the homes but then, like all nomads, they moved on. The houses rotted and fell to feed the earth; grass grew over the footings.

Okas watched as the centuries slid by, waiting with limitless patience, judging the passage of time by the movement of the stars. At last he saw the familiar buildings of the near present and moved his spirit close to the village. Focusing on Kiall, he found himself drawn to a small house on the western side. There he watched the birth of a boy, saw the proud smile on the face of the weary mother, saw the happiness in the eyes of KialPs father as he tenderly lifted his son.

Okas relaxed and let the vision flow. He saw Kiall's mother die of a fever when the boy was first walking, saw the father injured in a fall and losing his life to gangrene from the poisoned wound. He watched the boy — raised by strangers — grow tall. Then he saw the dark-haired girl, Ravenna.

At last he came to the raid, the Nadren thundering into the village with bright swords and gleaming lances.

Okas pulled his gaze from the slaughter and waited until the raiders had taken their captives back into the hills, where wagons stood loaded with chains and manacles.

He followed them for a hundred miles to a stockaded town, but there the vision faded.

He opened his eyes and stretched his back, suppressing a groan as the ligaments above his hip creaked and cracked. The wind was cold on his skin and he was mortally tired.

Yet still there was another flight to be made. The call was still strong and he allowed himself to link to it, his spirit lifting from his body to be drawn swiftly across the Steppes. The mountains were beautiful from this height, cloaked in snow and crowned with clouds. His spirit fell towards the tallest peak, passing through it deep into the dark. At last he entered a cavern where torches flickered on the walls and an old man sat before a small fire. Okas looked at him closely. He wore a necklace of lion's teeth around his scrawny throat, and his thin white beard had no more substance than woodsmoke. When the man's dark eyes opened and fixed on Okas there was pain in them, and a sorrow so deep that Okas was almost moved to tears.

'Welcome, brother,' said Asta Khan. The Nadir shaman winced and cried out.

'How can I help you?' asked Okas. 'What are they doing to you?'

'They are killing my children. There is nothing you can do. Soon they will send their forces against me and that is when I shall require your aid. The demons will fly, and my strength will not be enough to send them fleeing back to the pit. But with you I have a chance.'

Then I shall be here, brother. . and I will bring help.'

Asta Khan nodded. The ghosts-yet-to-be.'

'Yes.'

'Will they come if you ask it?'

'I think that they will.'

They will face nightmares beyond description. The demons will sense their fears — and make them real.'

They will come.'

'Why do you do this for me?' asked Asta. 'You know what I desire. You know everything.'

'Not everything,' said Okas. 'No man knows it all.'

Asta screamed and rolled to the floor. Okas sat quietly and waited until the old shaman pushed himself upright, wiping the tears from his eyes. 'Now they are killing the little ones; I cannot block out their anguish.'

'Nor would you wish to,' said Okas. 'Come forth and take my hand.'

The spirit of Asta Khan rose from the frail body. In this form he seemed younger, stronger. Okas took the outstretched hand and allowed his own strength to flow into the shaman.

'Why?' asked Asta once more. 'Why do you do this for me?'

'Perhaps it is not for you.'

'Who then? Tenaka? He was not your lord.'

'It is enough that I do it. I must return to my flesh. When you have need, I will be here.'

Kiall's anger was short-lived. As the questors waited on the edge of the woods for Okas, the young man sat beside Chareos and vented his rage.

Chareos cut across his words. 'Follow me,' he said sharply. The Blademaster stood and walked away into the trees, out of earshot of the others. Once there he turned on Kiall, his dark eyes angry, his face set.

'Do not waste your self-righteous wrath on me, boy. I'll not have it. When the raiders came, you — and all these villagers — did nothing. Of course they think they don't want the captives back. And why? Because it would be like looking in a mirror and seeing their own cowardice. They would have to live every day with that mirror. Every time they passed a former prisoner, they would see their own shortcomings. Now stop whining about it.'

'Why are you so angry?' Kiall asked. 'You could have just explained it to me.'

'Explained. .?' Chareos threw back his head and stared at the sky. He said nothing for several seconds and Kiall realised he was fighting for control of his temper. Finally he sat down and indicated that Kiall should join him. The young man did so. 'I don't have time to explain everything, Kiall,' said the older man patiently, 'and I do not have the inclination. I have always believed that a man should think for himself. If he relies on others for his thoughts and his motives, then his brain becomes an empty, useless thing. Why am I angry? Let us examine that for a moment. How do you think the Nadren know which villages to hit, where attractive young women live?'

'I don't know.'

'Then think, damn you!'

'They send out riders to scout?' ventured Kiall.

'Of course. How else?'

'They listen to traders, merchants, tinkers who pass through such villages?'

'Good. And what do you think they are listening for?'

'Information,' Kiall answered. 'I do not understand where this is taking us.'

'Then give me time. How does one village know what is going on at another village?'

Traders, travellers, poets — all carry news,' said Kiall. 'My father said it was one way in which they encouraged trade. People would gather round their wagons to hear the latest gossip.'

'Exactly. And what gossip will the next trader carry?"

Kiall reddened and swallowed hard. 'He will tell the tale of the heroes of Bel-azar who are hunting Ravenna,' he whispered.

'And who will hear of this band of heroes?' asked Chareos — his eyes narrowing, his mouth a thin tight line.

The Nadren,' admitted Kiall. 'I'm sorry. I didn't think.'

'No, you did not!' stormed Chareos. 'I heard of your dispute with the farmer and your threat with the knife. Bear this in mind, Kiall, that what we do is easy. Understand that. Easy! What the villagers do is hard. Hoping and praying for just enough rain to make the seeds grow and just enough sun to ripen the harvest; never knowing when drought, famine or raiders will destroy your life and take away your loved ones. Do not ever ask me for explanations. Use your mind.'

Finn pushed through the undergrowth. 'Okas is back. He says we have a hundred miles to travel. And it's rough country, for the most part. I've sent Maggrig back to purchase supplies. Is that all right, Blademaster?'

'Yes. Thank you, Finn. We'll set off once he's back and camp away from here. I couldn't stand another night with that sanctimonious bore.'

'Just think, Blademaster. Tonight he'll be entertaining the villagers with how you complimented him. You'll be remembered in future times as Chareos, the friend of the great Norral.'

'There's probably truth in that,' agreed Chareos, chuckling.

He strode through the undergrowth to where Okas was sitting quietly with Beltzer. The old man looked dreadfully weary.

'Would you like to rest for a while?' Chareos asked him.

'No rest. It is a long journey ahead. I will sleep tonight. There is a good camping place some four hours' ride to the south.'

'Is the girl alive?' asked Chareos. Kiall moved in behind him.

'She was when they took her to the fort town,' said Okas. 'I could not see beyond that; the distance is too great for me. And I have no hold on her — but for the love of Kiall. It is not enough. Had I known her, I would be able to find her anywhere.'

'How long for the journey?'

'Maybe three weeks. Maybe a month. It is rough country. And we must move with care. Nadir tribesmen, outlaws, Wolfsheads, Nadren. And. . other perils.'

'What other perils?' asked Beltzer.

'Demons,' answered Okas. Beltzer made the Sign of the Protective Horn on his brow and chest, and Finn did likewise.

'Why demons?' Chareos asked. 'What has sorcery to do with this quest?'

Okas shrugged his shoulders and stared down at the ground. He began to trace circular patterns in the dust.

Chareos knelt beside him. 'Tell me, my friend, why demons?'

Okas looked up and met Chareos' dark eyes. 'You asked me here to help you,' he said. 'I help you. What if I ask you to help me?'

'You are a friend,' replied Chareos without hesitation. 'If you need me — or any of us — you have only to ask. Are the demons hunting you?'

'No. But there is old man — enemy of Jungir Khan. He lives alone in mountains far from here. He is the one I am pledged to help. But if I go alone, I will die. Yet I must go.'

'Then I shall go with you,' declared Chareos.

'And I,' echoed Beltzer, clapping his large hand on Okas' shoulder.

Okas nodded, then returned to tracing his patterns in the dust. He spoke no more and Chareos left him alone.

Kiall moved alongside Chareos. 'I need to speak with you,' he said, walking away from the others. Chareos followed him to a shaded spot beneath a spreading elm. 'How does this help us find Ravenna?' asked the young man.

'It doesn't, Kiall. We may die here.'

'Then why? Did we come so far for nothing?' Kiall stormed.

'Friendship is not nothing. That old man will die without us. What would you have me say? There are few virtues in this world, boy, but friendship is one that I prize. But if you want a reason which has naught to do with honour, then consider this: What chance do we have of finding Ravenna without Okas?' Chareos gripped Kiali's shoulder. 'I have no choice, my friend. None at all.'

Kiall nodded. 'I shall go too,' he said.

Maggrig returned with supplies of food — dried meats, oats, salt and a sweet tisane made from dried honey and turmeric root. The questors set off towards the south with Okas and Chareos riding at the front, Kiall, Beltzer and Maggrig following. Finn galloped off into the distance, scouting for sign of raiders or outlaws.

Kiall rode alongside Maggrig. 'The thought of fighting demons terrifies me,' he confided.

'And me,' owned Maggrig. 'I saw the stuffed corpse of a Joining once, when we were in New Gulgothir. A wolfman some ten feet high — he was killed by Ananais, the Drenai hero, during the Ceska wars decades ago. But no demons. Finn had a friend killed by them, so he told me. They were hunting him in his sleep and he would awake screaming. One night he screamed but did not wake. There was not a mark upon him.'

Kiall shivered.

Beltzer dropped back to ride alongside them. 'The Nadir shamen summon the creatures,' he said. 'I knew a man once who survived an encounter with them. He'd robbed a Nadir shrine. Then the dreams began; he was being hunted through a dark wood; he had no weapons, and the beasts came closer to him on each night.'

'What did he do?' Maggrig asked.

'He journeyed to a Temple of the Thirty near Mashra-pur. They made him pass over the ornament he'd stolen

— a goblet, I think it was. Then two of the warrior priests sat with him while he slept. He dreamt of the wood again

— but this time the priests were with him, all dressed in silver armour and carrying swords which blazed brighter than lanterns. They fought off the demons and took the man's spirit to the Nadir shaman that sent them. They agreed to return the goblet and the dreams stopped.'

'He was a lucky man,' said Maggrig.

'Not really. He died soon after in a fight over a tavern whore.'

Beltzer spurred his mount forward and followed Chareos and Okas over a small rise.

Ahead of them was a long valley, and beyond that the seemingly arid, windswept landscape of the Nadir Steppes.

Tanaki rose from her bed, stretched and walked to the window, opening the shutters and staring out over the empty square.

Movement from behind made her turn and she smiled at the newcomer.

'It is considered polite to announce yourself, Harokas,' she told the hawk-faced assassin.

He shrugged. 'Not in my line of work,' he said, with a broad grin.

'I had not expected you for some weeks. Tell me you rode day and night to feast your eyes on my beauty.'

'Would that I could, Princess. But I did bring news that will interest you. There is a group of men riding here, intent on rescuing one of the slave women. It is likely your life will be in some danger from them.'

'How many?'

'Six.'

She chuckled. 'You think I should fear six men? I could probably tackle that many myself on a good day.'

'These men are special, Princess. They are led by Chareos the Blademaster. Among them is Beltzer of the Axe — also the bowmen of legend, Finn and Maggrig.'

'The heroes of Bel-azar? What interest can they have in a peasant woman?'

'What, indeed?'

'How did you hear of this?' Tanaki asked.

'They bragged about their mission in a village. The whole of the area is alive with the story.'

'But there is something you are not telling me,' she said, a trace of a smile on her face.

'You are quite correct, Princess,' he replied, opening his arms to her. She stepped in to him and he kissed her; then she pulled away.

'Later,' she told him. 'First tell me all.'

'Oh, no,' he said, sweeping her from her feet and carrying her into the square bedroom at the rear of the hall.

They made love for more than an hour; finally he lay back on the bolster and closed his eyes.

'Now tell me,' she said, raising herself on one elbow and looking down at him.

'You know that if I was the sort of man to fall in love, it would be with you, Princess. You are strong, intelligent, courageous and quick-witted. And in bed…"

'Yes, yes. I compliment you also. But tell me!'

'And you are so single-minded. I admire that.' Her face darkened. 'All right, all right,' he said, smiling. 'The Earl has commissioned me to kill Chareos.'

'And you would like me to do it for you?'

'Well, I am getting old and tired.'

'I noticed that,' she said, sitting up. 'And now I have work to do.'

'Why was Tsudai here?' he asked and she turned back to him, wondering if the concern in his eyes was genuine. Deciding it was not, she merely shrugged and stood.

'How is it that you hear everything, Harokas? Are you a seer?'

'No, I am a listener. And when Jungir Khan's general rides across the Steppes I know it is not for exercise.'

'He came to buy women, that was all.'

'Now it is your turn to hold something back. Would you like him dead, Princess?'

'No!' she said sharply.

'As you wish. But he hates you — you know that?'

'He says he loves me.'

Harokas grunted and rolled from the bed. 'He wouldn't know the meaning of the word.'

'And you do?' she asked, slipping into her tunic.

'Sometimes I think I do. What will you do about Chareos?'

'I will send out riders today.'

'Send the best, Princess.'

'The heroes of Bel-azar will be dead by the end of the week.'

'Perhaps,' he said softly.

Despite its bleak appearance, the land leading to the Steppes was teeming with life and Kiall found himself fascinated by the wonder of the wild. He had spent his life in the valley and knew of the habits of deer and wild sheep, but out here there were creatures of rare beauty and their behaviour was sometimes both mystic and comical.

High above them on the fourteenth day of their journey he saw great birds with long, rectangular wings, swooping and spiralling in the sky. Recognising them as vultures — but of a type he had not seen before — he spurred his horse to ride alongside Finn, who was some half a mile ahead of the group.

Finn reined in and waited for the young man. 'Is there a problem?' asked the hunter.

'No. I was watching the vultures. Does it mean something is dying?'

'Not death,' answered Finn, smiling. 'Life. They circle like that to find a mate. Watch them closely and you will see the males gliding around the females. Gradually their actions will become like mirror images.'

The vultures soared and wheeled in breathtaking displays.

'Such beauty from creatures of ugliness,' whispered Kiall.

'Why ugliness?' countered Finn. 'Because they feed on carrion? They clean the land, Kiall. In many ways they keep it beautiful.'

'Why do they mate in winter? Does the cold not threaten the eggs?'

'No,' Finn replied. 'When the female lays, she will sit upon the eggs for two months. After they hatch she will feed the young for a further four months. It is a long period for a bird.'

The questors rode on, crossing streams that rippled down from the mountains, swollen now with melted snow. Finn caught three large trout which they cooked for supper on the sixteenth day. He caught them with his hands, which impressed Kiall. The hunter shook his head. 'No great skill, Kiall. Even for them it is the mating season,' he said. 'They settle down in grooves on the shallow stream-bed to lay their eggs. They remain still and, if a man is quick and certain, he can ripple his fingers against their sides and Sick them from the water.'

As the days passed more and more wildlife was seen — great crested grebes on shallow lakes; coots; herons in their comical mating dances, leaping on stick-like legs to attract the females; huge black kites swooping, diving, meeting in the air.

Okas withdrew ever more into himself, often riding with his eyes closed, lost in thought. Once he almost fell from the saddle, but Beltzer caught him.

On the afternoon of the seventeenth day Okas moved his pony alongside Chareos. 'We must find a hiding place,' he said.

'Why? Are there enemies close?'

'Yes, those too. But this will be the night of the demons.'

Chareos nodded and rode to Finn. The hunter galloped off towards the west, where rearing rock-faces rose from the snow-speckled ground. By dusk the questors were camped in a deep cave on the side of a hill.

They ate in silence seated around a small, flickering fire. Okas forbade any meat to be eaten and sat with head bowed, eyes closed. At last his head came up and he looked at Chareos.

This is a night of great peril,' he said softly. 'The forces that will come against you are strong in their evil, powerful in their malice. They have been fed with the deaths of many, many people.'

Tell us of the old man we are to protect,' invited Chareos. Sweat shone on his face and he could feel the cool breeze of the night on his skin. Watching the swordsman, Kiall felt his fear. Beltzer too remained silent, his small round eyes peering intently at Okas.

'His name is Asta Khan and for many years he was shaman to Tenaka Khan, Lord of the Wolves. When Tenaka. . died… he left tribe and travelled — eventually — to Mountains of Moon. Tenaka's son, Jungir, and his own shaman, have decided it is time for Asta to die. They have sacrificed forty of Asia's blood kin to feed the spirits and weaken the old man. Tonight the demons will fly.'

'Why is he such a threat to Jungir?' Finn enquired.

'He knows a secret which Jungir wishes kept silent. Jungir Khan murdered his father.'

'And that is all?' asked Beltzer.

'Not all,' admitted Okas, 'but all I know for certain.'

'Can we defeat these demons?' asked Beltzer. 'Can my axe cut them?'

'We shall be entering their world. In that place, yes, they can die. But their powers are very great. You are strong, fat Beltzer, but where we travel it is not strength of body but strength of heart which is important. It is a place of faith and miracles, a place of Spirit.'

'How do we go there?' Finn asked.

'You do not go there,' replied Okas. 'Two must remain to protect the fleshly forms of those who fly. You, Finn, are best man for this.'

Kiall's breathing became shallow and he could feel his heart fluttering like a caged moth. But he remained silent.

'I will go,' declared Chareos, 'as will Beltzer.' He looked at Maggrig, then at Kiall. The blond hunter smiled at Kiall, reading his terror.

'I will come with you,' stated Maggrig.

'No,' said Okas. 'You will remain. There are enemies who have discovered our trail and they will come in the night. Your skills with the bow are needed here.'

'Then,' said Kiall, his voice shaking, 'I must come?'

'There is no must, my friend,' answered Okas with a gentle smile. 'This is a task for ghosts-yet-to-be. Perhaps we can win with only Beltzer, Chareos and myself.'

'I… I will come,' said Kiall. 'I began this quest and I will walk where the dangers lie.' He swallowed hard.

Chareos reached over and patted his shoulder. 'Well said, Kiall.'

'You stick close to me, boy,' Beltzer told Kiall, hefting his axe. Til see you safely home.'

'It is time,' said Okas. 'Finn, when we have departed put out fire and watch trails. With good fortune we return by dawn.' He rose and led the three companions deeper into the cave, where they sat in a circle. Okas began to chant in a hissing tongue which the others could not understand. Listening to the chant, Kiall found his mind spinning. Stars swam before his eyes and the roar of rushing rivers filled his ears. Then a darkness fell, a darkness so complete that all sense of being departed from him.

He came to awareness with a sudden blaze of light and found himself standing, with the others, before a fire in another cave. The body of an old man lay there, seemingly asleep. The man's spirit rose from the still form and approached them.

Asta Khan said nothing, but bowed deeply to Okas. The Tattooed Man knelt and traced a large circle in the dust of the cave floor, then rose and took Asta's hand, leading him to the centre of the circle. Asta Khan sat while Chareos, Beltzer, Kiall and Okas grouped themselves around him. Black smoke billowed from the cave walls, closing in on the questors. Beltzer lifted his axe and Chareos and Kiall drew their sabres. A sibilant hissing began from within the smoke.

Okas began to chant and was joined by the voice of Asta Khan. White light shone in the circle, blazing from the blades of the questors.

The smoke parted and a tall figure in black armour came into view. He was wearing a dark, winged helm with the visor down, and his arms were folded across his chest.

'It is time to die, Asta Khan,' he declared.

Finn knelt beside the still forms of the departed questors, staring silently at the motionless bodies. Then he took up his bow and moved to the cave mouth where Maggrig joined him. For some time the two men sat in silence there, watching the moonlight on the swaying branches of the trees.

'Anything?' whispered Maggrig.

Finn shrugged. 'You take the trail to the left; I'll watch over the right. But do not move too far from the cave mouth.' Maggrig nodded, and smiled. Notching an arrow to the string, he moved swiftly out into the open and vanished into the undergrowth. Finn waited for several minutes with eyes closed, allowing the darkness to concentrate his hearing. The sounds of the night were many, hidden within the whistling of the wind, the sibilant whispering of the leaves. He opened his eyes and slowly scanned the trail. Satisfied at last, he slipped out into the moonlight and moved to the right. Hiding places were many, but Finn needed somewhere which would supply a killing ground. The bow was not a good night weapon. Distances were hard to judge under moonlight, added to which a good defensive position could prove a death-trap unless there was also a second, safe way out.

He crouched behind a screen of bushes and tried to locate Maggrig. There was no sign of the blond hunter, and Finn smiled. At last he was learning something! An hour passed. . then another.

Finn closed his eyes and pushed his concentration through the sounds of the night — flattening them, flowing with the rhythms of the land, seeking the discordant. There was nothing — and this worried him. Okas was rarely wrong, and if he said there were enemies close then enemies were close. Finn licked his lips and felt his heartbeat quicken. If he could not hear them or see them, there were only two options to consider: either Okas was wrong, or the men hunting them were as skilled as the defenders. Keeping his actions slow and smooth, Finn dropped lower to the ground and glanced back at the cave mouth. There was no movement that he could see. He stared at the rock-face, allowing his peripheral vision into play. Nothing. Just rocks, and grass, and dark scattered bushes.

Easing himself back, Finn strung his bow and notched an arrow. If the enemy were skilled, then perhaps they had seen him and Maggrig move from the cave. The thought of danger to Maggrig almost made him panic, but he quelled the feeling savagely. If they had seen them, then they would now be moving into place to make the kill. Yet Finn had chosen his route with care and his position was a good one. Boulders protected his right flank, there was killing ground ahead and to the left. Behind him was a narrow trail which cut to the right back to the rock-face. Bellying down, he moved on his elbows until he was screened by the undergrowth. He had now lost the advantage of the killing ground on the left, but was protected from immediate attack and knew his enemies could no longer see him.

'This is nonsense,' he told himself. 'There is no one there. You are being frightened by shadows.'

Think, man, think! He put himself in the place of the hunters. You have seen the quarry. What now must you do?

You must make him show himself for a killing shot.

How?

Give him a target. Let him see you. Finn risked a glance to the killing ground now ahead to the right. Yes, that is where I would order a man to walk. Which would mean that Finn would have to rise in order to aim. He flicked his gaze back to the undergrowth behind him. There were only two possible places for an assassin to wait: by the gnarled beech, behind the thick silver trunk, or behind the rounded boulder leading to the cave mouth. Or perhaps both? Finn began to sweat.

The only sensible course was to retreat. The enemy had all the advantages. But to give ground would mean fleeing to the cave and that would bring him into the open. Even if he made it to the rock-face, he would then be trapped inside. And Maggrig would be stranded. Gently placing his bow on the ground, he raised his hands to his face with thumbs pressed together and gave out the low hoot of a night owl four times.

The grunting cough of a badger came from ahead.

Maggrig was still safe. Better still, he knew the danger and had spotted one of the enemy.

Finn dropped below the bushes and edged back, making no sound.

A man carrying a bow moved out into the open ahead of him. For Finn to make the shot he would have to stand. The man angled towards his hiding place and Finn took a deep breath and rose, drawing back on his bowstring. Suddenly he swivelled. Another attacker appeared from behind the boulder twenty paces to the rear; Finn sent an arrow which hammered into the man's skull, then dived to the earth. Two shafts sliced the air where he had been standing. Pushing his knees under him Finn sprinted from his hiding place, hurdling bushes and boulders to drop behind a fallen tree. From here he could see the body of the man he had killed.

Now the game was more to his liking. They had hunted him with great skill, arrogantly confident of their talents. Now one was dead and the others would be nervous. Dropping to his belly once more he crawled back from the tree and, staying flat, notched a second arrow to his bow.

The hunters had to attack from the front now. Was there an edge? They had seen Finn was right-handed; therefore they should come from his right. It would give them an extra fraction of a second in which to make the kill. He angled his body to the right and waited.

A warrior carrying a long spear hurdled the fallen tree and Finn shot him in the chest. The man staggered. A second attacker came from the left. . discarding his bow Finn rolled, came up with his hunting-knife, swerved away from the lunging spear and rammed his blade home into the man's belly. He held the dying man to him and scanned the undergrowth. He could see no one. With a curse he let the body drop and ran to his bow, scooping it into his hand. Just as he straightened he saw a bowman rear up. Finn was dead, and he knew it…

An arrow from Maggrig took the bowman high in the shoulder. The man screamed and loosed his own shaft, but it flew to the left of Finn who scrambled back into the bushes.

The cave, Finn!' shouted Maggrig, breaking all the rules. Finn swung to see three men running across the open ground. He sent an arrow after them, but the distance was too great and his shot was high and wide. Hurling aside his bow, he drew his knife and raced after them.

But they vanished within the cave, and he knew he would be too late.

'Stand firm, or we are all lost,' said Okas. Kiall took a deep breath and watched the swirling smoke.

It vanished to reveal a glittering landscape of stark mountains and tall, skeletal trees devoid of leaves. There were six scaled creatures, their huge mouths rimmed with sharp pointed fangs. They shuffled towards him with arms extended and Kiall recoiled in horror. They had no hands or paws. Instead bloated faces hung from the ends of their arms, sharp teeth gnashing and clicking inside the hollow flesh. Each of the demons was more than seven feet tall, and their horned skin appeared impervious to Kiall's own slender sabre. He glanced to his right, seeking encouragement from Chareos.

But there was no one there.

Alone, Kiall looked to his left. An open-door stood there, and through it he could see a green field carpeted with spring flowers. Children played there, and the sounds of their laughter rippled through the beckoning doorway.

The clicking of teeth made him spin. The demons were closer now. He had only to run through the doorway to be safe.

'Stand firm or we are all lost,' came the voice of Okas in the halls of his memory.

He thought of Ravenna. If he died here, there would be no one to rescue her. He heard a voice from the doorway.

'Quick, Kiall, run! It is safe here!' He risked a glance and saw his mother, her sweet face smiling, her hand waving.

'I can't!' he screamed. His sword came up. The doorway vanished. . the demons closed in.

Beltzer blinked in surprise. He had no idea where the others had gone, only that he stood alone before six armed men. They wore black armour, and they carried long swords. There was nothing demonic about them as they waited to attack; their faces were grim, but human.

The giant found his axe feeling heavy in his hands and allowed the head to rest against the ground. Looking down at his hands, he saw that they were wrinkled and covered with dark brown liver spots. His arms were scrawny and thin, his legs just bone and wasted muscle. A cool breeze touched his back and he turned slowly and peered at the land behind him. It rose sharply into a towering mountain. Fresh streams flowed there and the sun shone in glory.

'Go back to the mountain,' said one of the warriors. 'We have no wish to slay an old man who cannot raise his axe. Go back.'

'Chareos?' whispered Beltzer. He licked his gums; there were no teeth there, and he felt a terrible weariness.

'You will be young again on the mountain,' said the warrior. 'Then you will be able to face us. Take a single step back and feel the strength in your limbs.'

Beltzer moved back a pace. It was true. He felt a quickening of his muscles and his eyes cleared a little. All he needed to do was move back on to the mountain and then he would find the strength to face these warriors.

'Stand firm or we are all lost,' came the voice of Okas in the halls of his memory.

It needed all of Beltzer's strength to lift the axe. He looked at the grim warriors. 'Come on, then,' he said. Til move no further.'

'Fool!' hissed the leading warrior. 'Do you think to stand against us? We could kill you in an instant. Why not be strong again, and at least give us a good fight?'

'Will you talk all day?' roared Beltzer. 'A good fight? Come on, my boys, earn your pay.'

The warriors bunched together — and charged. Beltzer roared his defiance. His axe was suddenly light in his hands and he countered their charge with his own. His limbs were powerful once more, and his axe smashed and sliced into their ranks. Their swords cut him, but no deep thrust slowed him. Within seconds the warriors were dead, their bodies vanished. Beltzer looked back to the mountain. It was gone and in its place was a deep, yawning pit that vanished into the depths of the earth. He stood with his back to it.

And waited for more foes.

Chareos stood once more on the shadowed walls of Bel-azar, moonlight streaming on the mountain slopes and glistening on the grass of the valley. The dwellers in the dark were moving up the stairwell — and there was no Tenaka Khan to help him.

'This way,' came a soft, female voice and he turned to see a second stairway which led down into the valley. A woman stepped into the moonlight; her beauty made him gasp.

'Tura? Sweet Heaven, Tura?'

'It is I, my love. I cannot bear to see you die. Come with me.'

'I cannot. I must help my friends.'

'What friends, Chareos? You are alone; they have left you. Come with me. I love you, I always loved you. I was such a fool, Chareos, but it can be right again. It can be beautiful again.'

He groaned and his soul yearned for her.

A huge taloned hand smashed the stairwell door to shards.

'Come quickly!' yelled the woman.

'No!' shouted Chareos. He leapt forward and lanced his sword into the beast's gaping mouth, up through the cartilage beyond and into the brain.

'Help me!' Chareos turned and saw a second creature had come from the staircase behind her and was hauling her back into the darkness.

'Stand firm or we are all lost,' came the voice of Okas in the halls of his memory.

He screamed in his anguish, but remained where he was. Two more creatures lunged at him; he sidestepped and killed the first with a thrust to the heart, the second with a slashing sweep that cut through its neck.

The sound of laughter came to him and he saw the woman locked in an embrace with the monster at the stairwell. Her face turned to Chareos — it was white as a shroud, the eyes staring, the pupils slitted like those of a cat. Slowly she lifted her leg, stroking it against the demon's thigh.

'You never were much of a man,' she said. 'Why do you think I needed so many lovers?"

He swung away from her, but her words continued to taunt him. 'I slept with them all, Chareos. With Finn, with Beltzer. With all of your friends. I told them all what you were like. I told them how you cried on the first night we made love. . they laughed at that.'

'Leave me alone!'

Another beast came through the doorway but Chareos ducked under the sweep of its talons and slashed his sabre through its belly. It fell back into the darkness.

Her voice came closer, but the words were softer now. 'I said that to hurt you,' she whispered. 'I am sorry. . I am so sorry.' Closer she came and Chareos moved back a step. Through all that I did,' she continued, 'all the terrible wrongs I did you, you never hurt me. You could never hurt me.' Her arm-flashed up. Chareos' sabre slashed through her throat and the head flopped to the floor, the body toppling beside it. The small, curved knife dropped from her fingers.

'No,' said Chareos, 'I could never hurt Tura. But you were not Tura.'

Kiall hacked and slashed at the monsters around him. The fang-lined paws ripped at his skin and pain flooded him, yet still his sword lanced out to force them back. He slipped and fell and the demons loomed over him. Just then a warrior in black, armed with two short swords, leapt to stand over him, driving the monsters away. Kiall struggled to his feet and watched the warrior. The man's skill was breathtaking; he spun and whirled like a dancer, yet at each move his glittering blades flickered out against the demons. The last beast died and the man walked to Kiall and smiled.

'You fought well,' said the man. Kiall looked into the slanted violet eyes and the hard cruel face.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'I am a friend to Asta Khan.'

Darkness loomed before Kiall's eyes and he blinked. .

He was back before the fire in the cave. Okas and Asta were sitting together, Beltzer and Chareos standing guard over them.

'Will they come again?' enquired Beltzer.

'I do not know,' answered Okas wearily.

'They will not,' said Asta Khan, his dark eyes glittering. 'Now it is time for my enemies to see my power.' He closed his eyes. . and vanished.

Three hundred miles away Shotza screamed. The first of twelve acolytes, deep in a trance, fell back with his chest ripped open, his heart exploding. Shotza tried to run from the room, but all the doors were barred by a mist that formed like steel. One by one his acolytes died silently, until only the shaman was left.

A figure formed in the mist and Shotza backed away. 'Spare me, mighty Asia,' he begged. 'I was acting under orders from the Khan. Only spare me, and I will help you to destroy him.'

'I do not need your help for that,' said Asta, floating close to the trembling shaman. Asia's spirit hand shot out, the fingers extending into long talons which slid into Shotza's chest. A terrible pain clamped the shaman's heart and he tried to cry out — but died before the scream could sound.