Waylander II: In The Realm of the Wolf

15

Kasai and his men had been hunting for more than three hours when they saw the southerner on the giant red stallion. Kasai reined in his hill pony. It was a fine beast, fourteen hands tall, but the southerner's horse was sixteen hands, maybe more. Kasai's cousin Chulai reined in alongside him. 'Do we kill him?' he asked.

'Wait,' ordered Kasai, studying the approaching rider. The man was dressed in black, a dark fur-lined cloak slung across his shoulders. There was dried blood on his face. The rider saw them and angled his horse towards the waiting group. Kasai saw no sign of fear in the man.

'Fine horse,' said Kasai, as the man pulled back on the reins.

'Better than the man I killed to get him,' said the rider, his dark eyes scanning the group. He seemed amused, which angered Kasai.

'It is a horse worth killing for,' he said pointedly, hand on his sword-hilt.

'True,' agreed the rider. 'But the question you must ask yourself is, whether he is worth dying for.'

'We are five, you are one.'

'Wrong. One and one. You and I. For when the action begins I will kill you within the first heartbeat.' The words were spoken with a quiet certainty that swept over Kasai's confidence like a winter wind.

'You dismiss my brothers so easily?' he said, trying to re-establish the fact that they outnumbered the southerner.

The rider laughed and swung his gaze over the other men. 'I never dismiss any Nadir lightly. I've fought too many in the past. Now it seems you have two choices; you can fight, or we can ride to your camp and eat.'

'Let us kill him,' said Chulai, slipping into the Nadir tongue.

'It will be the last move you make, dung-brain,' said the rider, in perfect Nadir.

Chulai half-drew his sword, but Kasai ordered him back. 'How do you know our tongue?' he enquired.

'Do we eat or fight?' countered the man.

'We eat. We offer you the hospitality of the tent. Now, how do you know our tongue?'

'I have travelled among the Nadir for many years, both as friend and enemy. My name is Waylander, though I have other names among the people of the tents.'

Kasai nodded. 'I have heard of you, Oxskull – you are a mighty warrior. Follow me, and you will have the food you desire.' Kasai wheeled his pony and galloped towards the north. Chulai cast a murderous glance at the Drenai and then followed.

Two hours later they were seated around a burning brazier within a tall, goatskin tent. Waylander was sitting cross-legged upon a rug, Kasai before him. Both men had dined from a communal bowl of curdled cheese and shared a clay goblet of strong spirit.

'What brings you to the steppes, Oxskull?'

'I seek Kesa Khan of the Wolves.'

Kasai nodded. 'His death has been long overdue.'

Waylander chuckled. 'I am not here to kill him, but to help him survive.'

'It cannot be true!'

'I assure you that it is. My daughter and my friends are with him now – or so I hope.'

Kasai was amazed. 'Why? What are the Wolves to you? We still talk of Kesa Khan's magic and the werebeasts he sent to kill you. Why would you help him?'

'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,' answered Waylander. 'There is a man who serves the Emperor. He is the enemy I wish to see slain.'

'Zhu Chao! May the gods curse his soul until the stars burn out! Aye, a good enemy, that one. But you are too late to help the Wolves. The Gothir have already begun their attack upon the mountain stronghold. There is no way through.'

'I will find a way.'

Kasai nodded and drained the last of the spirit, refilling the goblet from a jug beside him. He offered it to Waylander, who drank sparingly. 'My people are the Tall Spears. We are enemies of the Wolves. Lifelong – and before that. But I do not want to see the Gothir destroy them. I wish to be the man who drives a blade into Anshi Chen. I wish to cut the head from Belash. I wish to drag out the heart of Kesa Khan. Such pleasures are not for some round-eyed, stone-dwelling pig to enjoy.'

'How many men do you have here?'

'Fighting men? Six hundred.'

'Perhaps you should consider aiding the Wolves.'

'Pah! My tongue would turn black and all my ancestors turn their backs upon me when I entered the Vale of Rest. No, I shall not aid them, but I will aid you. I will give you food and, if you wish, a guide. There are other routes into the Mountains.'

'I thank you, Kasai.'

'It is nothing. If you do find Kesa Khan, tell him why I helped you.'

'I'll do that. Tell me, do you dream of the day the Uniter will come?'

'Of course, what Nadir does not?'

'How do you see him?'

'He will be of the Tall Spears, that is certain.'

'And how will he unite the Nadir?'

Kasai smiled. 'Well, first he will obliterate the Wolves, and all other treacherous tribes.'

'Suppose the Uniter is not of the Tall Spears. Suppose he is of the Wolves?'

'Impossible.'

'He'll need to be a rare man,' said Waylander.

'Let's drink to that,' said Kasai, passing the goblet.

Wrapped in his cloak, his head resting on his saddle, Waylander lay on the rug, listening to the night winds howling outside the tent. On the far side of the brazier Kasai was sleeping, his two wives on either side of him, his children close by. Waylander was tired, but sleep would not come. Rolling on to his back he gazed up at the smoke drifting through the hole in the tent roof, watching the wind swirl it away. He could see three stars, high in the night sky. He closed his eyes.

And remembered the day he had fought to protect the Armour of Bronze. The Nadir had come for him, but these he had slain. Then the last of the wolf-beasts had stalked him. Two bolts through the brain had finally ended the terror. Wounded and alone he had dragged himself from the cave – only to face the Knights of the Brotherhood. These he could not defeat, but Durmast the giant, treacherous Durmast, had arrived to save him, giving his life for a man he had planned to betray.

Waylander sighed. So many dead. Durmast, Gellan, Danyal, Krylla . . . And always the wars – conquest and battle, defeat and despair. Where does it end, he thought. With the grave? Or do the battles go on?

Kasai was snoring now. Waylander heard him grunt as one of his wives nudged him. Opening his eyes he gazed across the tent. The brazier was burning low, a soft red glow filling the interior. Kasai had a family. He had made a gift to the future. He was loved.

Waylander turned to his side, facing away from the Nadir leader. Once more he tried for sleep, but this time he saw Dardalion, tied to the tree, his flesh sliced and bleeding, the men around him laughing and mocking.

That was the day Waylander's world had changed. He had rescued the priest, then been drawn into the eternal battle, Light against Dark, Harmony against Chaos. And he had met Danyal. He groaned and rolled again, his body weary, muscles aching.

Stop dwelling on the past, he told himself. Think about tomorrow. Just tomorrow. He would find a way into the Mountains of the Moon. He would stand beside Miriel and Angel and do that which he did best. He would fight.

He would kill.

Sleep took him by surprise, and his soul drifted into darkness.

The walls were clammy, the corridor dark and claustrophobic. Waylander blinked and tried to remember how he had come here. It was so hard to concentrate. Was he looking for something? Someone?

There were no doors or windows, just this endless tunnel. Cold water was soaking through his boots as he waded on.

I am lost, he thought.

There was no source of light, and yet he could see.

Stairs. Must look for stairs. Fear touched him, but he suppressed it ruthlessly. Stay calm! Think! He moved on. Something white caught his eye on the far wall. There was an alcove there. Splashing across the streaming water he saw a skeleton, rusty chains holding it to the wall. The ligaments and tendons had not yet rotted and the thing was intact, save for the left leg, which had parted at the knee. Something moved within the ribcage and Waylander saw two rats had made a nest there.

'Welcome,' said a voice. Waylander stepped back in shock. The head was no longer a skull but a handsome face, framed in golden hair. It smiled at him. Waylander's heart was beating wildly and he reached for his crossbow. Only then did he realise he was weaponless. 'Welcome to my home,' said the handsome head.

'I am dreaming!'

'Perhaps,' agreed the head. A rat pushed its way through the gaping ribcage and sprang to a nearby shelf of stone.

'Where is this place?' asked Waylander.

The head laughed, the sound echoing away into the tunnel. 'Well, let us think . . . Does it look to you like paradise?'

'No.'

'Then it must be somewhere else. But one mustn't complain, must one? It is pleasant to have a visitor after so long. The rats are company, of course, but their conversation is rather limited.'

'How do I get out of here?'

The head smiled, and Waylander saw the pale eyes widen, a gleam of triumph showing there. Waylander spun. A sword lunged for his throat. Swaying aside he slammed his fist into a face out of nightmare. His assailant fell back into the water, but rose swiftly. He looked like a man, save that his skin was scaled, his eyes huge and set, like a fish, on either side of his head. He had no nose, merely slits in the skin of his face, and his mouth was shaped like an inverted V, lipless and rimmed with fangs.

The creature leapt forward. Waylander reached out, his fingers curling around one of the skeletons ribs, and snapping it clear. The sword slashed down. Waylander sidestepped the blow and rammed the broken rib into the creature's chest. Dropping the sword it let out a terrible howl. And disappeared.

Waylander scooped up the sword and swung back to the skeleton. The handsome head was no longer visible. The rotting skull sagged against the vertebrae and toppled into the murky water.

Sword in hand Waylander moved on, every sense alert.

The tunnel widened and he saw an arch of stone and a path leading to a stairwell. An old man was sitting on the first stair. His robes were old and covered in mildew and mould. In his hands was a sphere of transparent crystal, a white light shining at the centre.

Waylander approached him.

'This is your soul,' said the old man, holding up the crystal. 'If I drop it, or break it, or crush it, you will never leave here. You will wander these tunnels for eternity. Go back the way you have come.'

'I wish to climb those stairs, old man. Step aside.'

'One step towards me and your soul perishes!' warned the old man, holding the crystal high. Waylander sprang forward, his sword smashing through the crystal, sending glittering shards to the water. The old man fell back. 'How did you know?' he moaned.

'My soul is my own,' answered Waylander. The old man vanished.

And the stairs beckoned.

Waylander edged forward. The stairwell walls shimmered with a faintly green light, the stairs glistening as if oiled. He took a long deep breath then ventured on to the first step. Then the second. Arms swept out from the walls, hooked fingers and talons reaching for him. The sword slashed down, hacking through a scaled wrist. Fingers grabbed at his black leather tunic. Tearing himself free he forced his way up the stairwell, the sword-blade hacking a path through the writhing, questing limbs.

At the top of the stairs was a square landing. There were two doors, one edged with gold and part-open, the other guarded by a huge three-headed serpent, whose coils rose up around the frame. The part-open door showed a shaft of sunlight, warm and welcoming, beckoning the man. Waylander ignored it, his eyes fixed to the serpent. Its mouths were cavernous, each showing twin fangs more than a foot long. Venom dripped from them, splashing to the stone of the landing, bubbling and hissing.

A figure in a robe of light appeared at the part-open door. 'Come this way. Quickly!' said the figure, a friendly-faced man with white hair and kindly blue eyes. 'Come to the light!' Waylander moved towards him, as if to comply, but once close enough he reached out, pulling the man forward by his robes, then hurling him at the serpent. Two of the heads darted forward, the first closing on the man's shoulder, the second sinking its fangs into his leg. The victim's screams filled the air.

As Waylander leapt past the struggling man the third head lunged down. Waylander's sword smote it in the eye. Black blood bubbled from the wound and the head withdrew. Throwing his shoulder against the door Waylander felt the wood give way, and he fell into a wide hall. Rolling to his feet he saw a man waiting for him, sword in hand.

It was Morak.

'No dying dog to save you now!' said the dead assassin.

'I don't need help for the likes of you,' Waylander told him. 'You were nothing then. You are less than nothing now.'

Morak's face twisted and he ran to the attack. Waylander sidestepped, parried the lunge then sent a riposte that almost tore Morak's head from his neck. The assassin staggered then righted himself, his head hanging at an obscene angle.

'How do you kill a dead man?' he mocked. Morak attacked again. Waylander parried and once more chopped at the gashed neck. The head fell to the floor, but the body continued its assault. Waylander blocked two thrusts, slashing his blade into the already open ribcage. It did not even slow the headless opponent. Laughter came from the air. 'Are you beginning to know fear?' Morak's voice echoed in the hall, the air filled with screaming obscenities.

Ducking under a wild cut Waylander ran to the head, lifting it by the hair. Spinning round he hurled it towards the doorway. It bounced and rolled through the gap. A serpent lunged, the great mouth snapping shut. The screams stopped instantly.

The headless body collapsed.

Waylander whirled, awaiting the next attack.

'How did you know which door to take?' asked another voice. Waylander searched for the source of the sound, but could see no one.

'It was not difficult,' he answered, holding his blade at the ready.

'Yes, I can see that. The sunlight and the white robe was a little too obvious. I won't make that mistake again. I must say Morak was a disappointment. He gave you a much greater battle while alive.'

'He had more to fight for,' said Waylander. 'Who are you? Show yourself!'

'Of course, how impolite of me.' A figure shimmered into being on the far side of the hall, a tall man wearing purple robes. His hair was waxed flat to his skull, save for two braided sideburns that hung to his slender shoulders. 'I am Zhu Chao.'

'I have heard the name.'

'Of course you have. Now, let us see what we can conjure for our pleasure. Something from your past, perhaps?' Zhu Chao extended his arm, pointing at a spot midway into the hall. Black smoke swirled there, forming into a beast more than eight feet high. It had the head of a wolf, the body of a giant man. 'Such a shame you do not have your little bow with you,' said Zhu Chao.

Waylander backed away as the beast advanced, its blood-red eyes focused on its prey. A silver arrow lanced across the hall, spearing into the creature's neck. A second followed it, piercing the great chest. The beast slumped to its knees then fell headfirst to the flagstones.

Waylander spun. Miriel, bow in hand, Angel beside her, was standing by the doorway. Angel ran forward.

'Get back!' ordered Waylander, sword raised.

'What the Hell is the matter with you?' asked Angel.

'Nothing is as it seems in this place,' Waylander told him. 'And I'll not be fooled by a demon just because he looks like a friend.'

Miriel advanced. 'Judge by actions, Father,' she said. Waylander's crossbow materialised in his hand, a full bolt quiver appearing at his belt.

'How did you come here?' he asked, still wary.

'Kesa Khan sent us. Now we must get out of this place.'

Loading his crossbow, Waylander swung back to where Zhu Chao had been standing.

But the wizard had gone.

There were many doors on both sides of the hall. Miriel ran towards the nearest, but Waylander called her back.

'What is this place?' he asked her.

'It exists in the Void. The castle was created by Zhu Chao as a trap for you. We must get out, move beyond his power.' Once more she started for the door, but he grabbed her arm, his dark eyes showing his anger.

'Stop and think!' he snapped. 'This is his creation, so none of the doorways will lead to freedom. Beyond them is only more peril.'

'What do you suggest?' asked Angel. 'Do we just wait here?'

'Exactly. His powers are not inexhaustible. We stand, and we fight. Whatever comes we kill.'

'No,' insisted Miriel. 'You have no conception of what exists in the Void. Demons, monsters, spirits-creatures of colossal evil. Kesa Khan warned me of them.'

'If Zhu Chao had the power to conjure such creatures I would already be dead,' said Waylander softly. 'But whatever surprises he has for us are waiting beyond those doors. There or here. Those are our only choices. And here we have space. Tell me of the Void,' he ordered Miriel.

'It is a place of spirit,' she told him, 'of wandering. It is the Great Emptiness between what was and what is.'

'Nothing is real here?'

'Real and yet not real. Yes.'

'This crossbow is not ebony and steel?'

'No. It is a thing of spirit – your spirit. An extension of your will.'

'Then I need not load it?'

'I… don't know.'

Waylander levelled the bow and loosed the triggers. The bolts flashed across the hall, hammering into a black door. He gazed down at the weapon, the strings hanging slack. Then he raised it again. Instantly two bolts slashed through the air. 'Good,' he said. 'Now let them come. And I will have my knives.' A baldric appeared on his chest, three knives in sheaths hanging from it. His chain-mail shoulder-guard materialised, not black, but of shining silver. 'What of you, Angel?' he asked, with a wide grin. 'What do you desire?'

The gladiator smiled. 'Two golden swords and armour, encrusted with gems.'

'You shall have them!'

A golden helm appeared, a white-crested plume arcing back from brow to nape of neck. And a breastplate and greaves, glittering with rubies and diamonds. Two scabbarded swords shimmered into place at his side.

All the doors in the hall swept open and a host of shadow shapes swarmed towards the waiting warriors.

'I'll have light also!' yelled Waylander. The ceiling disappeared and sunlight filled the hall, spearing through the dark horde, which vanished like mist in a morning breeze.

Then a black cloud formed above them, obliterating the light, and a cold voice hissed from all around them. 'You learn swiftly, Waylander, but you do not have the skill to oppose me.'

Even as the echoes died away nine knights in black armour appeared, long triangular shields upon their arms, black-bladed swords in their hands. Waylander spun and sent two bojts at the first. They thudded into the knight's shield. Miriel loosed a shaft, but this also was turned aside. And the knights advanced.

'What do we do?' whispered Angel, drawing both his swords.

Waylander aimed his crossbow above the advancing warriors and let fly. The bolt swept over the advancing men then turned, plunging into the back of the closest. 'Anything is possible here,' said Waylander. 'Let your mind loose!'

The knights charged, holding their shields before them. A white shield appeared on Waylander's arm, his crossbow becoming a sword of light. He leapt forward, crashing his shield into the first knight, hurling him back off-balance, then moved into the gap, slashing his blade to the left, cleaving it through the ribs of an advancing warrior.

Angel took two running steps then threw himself towards the ground, rolling into the charging knights. Three tumbled over him, their shields clattering to the flagstones. He reared up and killed the first two, one with a disembowelling lunge, the second with a reverse thrust. Miriel slew the third with an arrow through the eye.

Two knights converged on Miriel. Instantly her bow became a shining sabre. Ducking under a wild cut she leapt high, her foot hammering into the first man's chin. He was catapulted back. The second slashed his sword towards her face. She swayed and sent her sabre in a wicked slash that tore through the chain-mail at the knight's throat. He fell and she plunged her sword into his unprotected back.

The three remaining knights backed away. Angel ran at them. 'No!' bellowed Waylander. 'Let them go!'

Angel backed to where Waylander and Miriel were standing. 'I can't think of any magic,' he grumbled.

'You will need none,' said Waylander, pointing to the fading castle walls. 'It is over.'

Within a heartbeat they were standing on a wide grey road, the castle a memory.

'You risked your life for me, Miriel,' said Waylander, taking his daughter in his arms. 'You came into Hell for me. I'll never forget that, as long as I live.' Releasing her he turned to Angel. 'And you too my friend. How can I thank you?'

'You could start by letting Miriel take me away from here,' answered Angel, casting nervous glances at the slate-grey sky and the brooding hills.

Waylander laughed. 'So be it. How do we leave, Miriel?'

She moved alongside him and laid her hands over his eyes. 'Think of your body, and where it sleeps. Then relax, as if drifting to sleep. And we will see you in the mountains very soon.'

Reaching up he pulled clear her hands, holding to them. 'I won't be coming to the mountains,' he said softly.

'What do you mean?'

'I will just be another sword there. I must go where my talents can be used at their best.'

'Not Gulgothir?' she pleaded.

'Yes. Zhu Chao is the cause of all this. When he is dead maybe it will be over.'

'Oh Father, he is a wizard. And he will be guarded. Worse, he knows you will come – that is why he laid this trap for you. He will be waiting. How can you succeed?'

'He's Waylander the Slayer,' said Angel. 'How can he not?'

'What a fool!' cackled Kesa Khan, leaping to his feet and capering about the cave, his weariness forgotten. Miriel looked on in astonishment. Angel merely shook his head.

'To think,' continued the shaman, 'that he tried to kill Waylander by direct action. It is almost bliss! Like trying to choke a lion by forcing your head into its mouth. Bliss!'

'What are you talking about?' asked Miriel.

Kesa Khan sighed and settled down by the fire. 'You are his daughter and you do not see it? He is like a fire. Left to his own devices he burns down to low, glowing embers. But to attack him is to throw twigs and branches to the flames. Can you understand that? Look!' Kesa Khan waved his hand above the flames, which flattened into a mirror of fire. Within it they saw Waylander moving slowly through the Void tunnel, water drenching his boots. 'Here he was afraid, for there were no enemies, only darkness. He was lost. No memory. No weapons.' They watched the tiny figure reach the skeleton, saw the golden-haired head materialise. 'Now observe!' ordered Kesa Khan.

The scaled creature reared up behind Waylander, who snatched the rib and rammed it into the beast's chest. 'Now,' said the shaman, 'he has a sword. Now, he has a purpose. Enemies are all around him. His talents are focused. See how he moves, like a wolf.'

Silently they sat as the tiny figure destroyed the sphere and battled his way up the staircase of hands. 'This I loved,' cackled the shaman, as Waylander threw the white-robed priest into the jaws of the serpent. 'He knew, do you see? In the dark, surrounded by foes, he knew there was no succour. The doorway he chose was the guarded one. Oh, it is so perfect. He must have Nadir blood! And to summon sunshine into the Void! Beautiful. Perfect! Zhu Chao must be trembling now. By all the gods, I would be.'

'I do not know if he is trembling,' said Miriel, 'but I do know my father is riding for Gulgothir. And there will be no sunshine to summon there. Zhu Chao will surround himself with armed guards: he will be waiting.'

'As the gods will,' said Kesa Khan, with a wave of his hand. The fire flared once more. 'Tomorrow we must move the women and children to Kar-Barzac. I have sent a message to Anshi Chen. He will leave a small rearguard to hold the passes. Fifty men will remain here until dark to defend the wall. It should be enough.'

'What about my father?' insisted Miriel.

'His fate is in the hands of the gods,' answered Kesa Khan. 'He will live or die. There is nothing we can do.'

'Zhu Chao will use magic to locate him,' said Miriel. 'Can you shield him?'

'No, I do not have the power. There are deadly beasts in the valley of Kar-Barzac. I need all my strength to send them into the mountains, clearing the path for my people to the fortress.'

'Then what chance will my father have?'

"That we will see. Do not underestimate him.'

"There must be something we can do!'

'Yes, yes. We fight on. We make Zhu Chao concentrate his energies on Kar-Barzac. That is what he wants. His dreams lie in that old castle.'

'Why?' asked Angel.

'The Elders built it. They cast great spells there, creating living demons known as Joinings to fight their wars. Beasts merged with men: the magic was colossal. So great that it ultimately destroyed them, but in Kar-Barzac the magic lived on, radiating out. You will see. The valley is twisted by it, deformed trees, carnivorous sheep and goats. I even saw a rabbit there with fangs. Nothing could live in that valley without being corrupted, twisted out of shape. Even the castle is now a monstrosity, the granite blocks re­shaped as if they were wet clay.'

'Then how the Hell can we go there?' said Angel.

Kesa Khan smiled, and his dark eyes gleamed. 'Someone was kind enough to stop the magic,' he said. He looked away from them, staring into the fire.

'What is it you are not telling us?' asked Miriel.

'A great deal,' admitted the shaman. 'But there is much you do not need to know. Our enemies reached Kar-Barzac before us. They removed the source of magic – aye, and died for it. Now it is safe. We shall defend its walls, and there the line of the Uniter will be continued.'

'How long can we hold this fortress?' enquired Angel. 'We shall see,' answered Kesa Khan, 'but for now I need to drive the beasts from the valley. Leave me.'