Waylander II: In The Realm of the Wolf

19

Zhu Chao stood on the balcony, leaning on the gilded rail and staring at the battlements of his palace. There were no vulgar crenellations here, but sweeping flutes and curves as befitted a Chiatze nobleman. The gardens below were filled with fragrant flowers and trees, with elaborate walkways curving around ponds and artificial streams. It was a place of quiet, tranquil beauty.

Yet it was still strong. Twenty men, armed with bow and sword, walked the four walls, while four others– keen-eyed and watchful – manned the mock towers at each corner. The gates were barred, and six savage hounds patrolled the gardens. He could see one of them now, lying on all fours beside an ornate path. Its black fur made it almost invisible.

I am safe, thought Zhu Chao. Nothing can harm me.

Why then am I so afraid?

He shivered and drew his sheepskin-lined robe of purple wool more closely about his slender frame.

Kar-Barzac was becoming a disaster. Kesa Khan still lived, and the Nadir were defending the walls like men possessed. Innicas was dead, the Brotherhood all but destroyed. And Galen had been inexplicably murdered upon his return to the Drenai forces. He had walked into the tent of General Asten, and told the man about the tragic betrayal that had seen the death of Karnak. Asten had listened quietly, then stood and approached the Brotherhood warrior. Suddenly he reached out, grabbing Galen by the hair and wrenching back his head. A knife-blade flashed. Blood gouted from Galen's throat. Zhu Chao had seen it all, the dying warrior falling to the floor, the stocky General looming above him.

Zhu Chao shivered. It was all going wrong.

And where was Waylander?

Three times he had cast the search spell. Three times it had failed. But tonight all will be made well, he assured himself. Midwinter's Eve, and the great sacrifice. Power will flow into me, the gift of Chaos will be mine. Then I shall demand Kesa Khan's death. Tomorrow the Ventrian King will be dead. His troops will turn to the Brotherhood for leadership, as will the Drenai soldiers. Galen was not the only loyal knight among them. Asten would die, as the Emperor would die.

Three empires become one.

Not for me the petty titles of King or Emperor. With the crystal in my hands I shall be the Divine Zhu Chao, Lord of All, King of Kings. The thought pleased him. He glanced at the nearest wall, watching the soldiers marching along the parapet. Strong men. Faithful. Loyal. I am safe, he told himself once more.

He glanced up at the mock tower to the left. The soldier there was sitting with his back to the outside. Sleeping! Irritation flared. Zhu Chao pulsed a command to him, but the man did not move. The sorcerer mentally summoned Casta, the Captain of the Guard.

'Yes, Lord,' came the response.

"The guard on the eastern tower. Have him brought to the courtyard and flogged. He is sleeping.'

'At once, Lord.'

'Safe? How safe can I be with men such as these guarding me? 'And Casta!'

'Yes, Lord.'

'After he is flogged, cut his throat.' Turning on his heel Zhu Chao returned to his apartments, his good mood in tatters. He felt the need of wine, but held back. Tonight the sacrifice must be conducted without error. He thought of Karnak in chains, the curved sacrificial knife slowly slicing into the Drenai's chest. His mood brightened.

This is my last day as the servant of others, he thought. From tomorrow's dawn I shall be the Lord of Three Empires.

No, not until the crystal is in your power. For only then will you know immortality. Only then will you be whole again. A muscle at his jaw twitched and he saw again the unholy fire and the sharp little dagger in Kesa Khan's hand. Hate suffused him, and shame rose like acid in his throat.

'You will watch your people die, Kesa Khan,' he hissed. 'Every man, woman and babe. And you will know who is to blame. That is the price for what you stole from me!'

His memories echoed the remembered pain, and the months of terrible suffering that followed the mutilation. But the crystal would change everything. The Third Grimoire told of it. An ancient knight had been carried into the chamber, his arm cut away by a weapon of light. They had laid him upon a bed, and unleashed the power of the crystal. Within two days a new arm had sprouted from the severed limb.

But better even than this, according to the Fourth Grimoire, leaders of the Elder Races had been trans­formed by the crystal, their aging bodies made young again. Zhu Chao's throat was dry, and this time he succumbed to a small goblet of wine.

'Lord! Lord!' pulsed Casta, fear radiating in his spirit voice.

'What is it?'

'The sentry is dead, Lord! A crossbow bolt through the heart. And there is the mark of a grappling hook on the turret.'

'He's here!' screamed Zhu Chao, aloud. 'Waylander is here!'

'I cannot hear you, Lord,' pulsed Casta.

Zhu Chao fought for calm. 'Get the men from the walls. Search the gardens. Find the assassin!'

The oil-dipped torch sent crazed shadows across the rippled walls of the stairwell, and black smoke swirled in Angel's nostrils as he descended the stairs. There was a fear in him greater than any he had experienced. It was a fear of death. Not his own – that he was prepared for. But his terror grew as he considered Miriel and the monster, her young body broken, her dead eyes staring up, seeing nothing.

Angel swallowed hard, and moved on. He could not afford the security of stealth, but blundered on down the stairs, ever down. Dardalion had said the crystal chamber was on the sixth level, but the beast could be anywhere. Angel hawked and spat, vainly trying to dampen his dry mouth. And he prayed to any god that might be listening, Dark or Light, or any shade in between.

Let her live!

Take me instead. I've had a life, a good life. He missed a step and stumbled against the wall, sparks showering down from the torch, burning his bare forearm. 'Concentrate, you fool!' he told himself, his words echoing along the silent corridors.

Where now, he wondered as the stairwell joined a long, flat hallway. There was a dim light here, glowing from panels in the walls. He gazed around him. Everything was made of metal – walls, ceiling, floor. Shining and rust-free, the metal everywhere was crumpled and ripped, as if it had no more strength than rotted linen.

Angel shivered. The corridors were damp and cold and his muscles ached with it. Ekodas had pointed out how tired he was, and he felt it now. His limbs seemed leaden, his energy waning. Drawing in a deep breath he thought of Miriel and pushed on.

A large, arched doorway loomed before him. He entered it, sword raised. A movement sounded from behind. He swung, his sword arcing down. At the last moment he dragged the blade aside – just missing the child dressed in his own cloak of green. 'Shemak's balls, boy! I could have killed you!'

The boy shrank back against the doorway, his lip trembling, his eyes wide and frightened. Angel sheathed his sword and forced a smile. 'Followed me, did you?' he said, reaching out and drawing the child to him. 'Ah well, no harm done, eh?'

He knelt down beside the boy. 'You take the torch,' he said, holding it out for the lad. In truth he no longer needed its light, for the panels cast an eerie glow over the hall. There were metal beds here and rotted mattresses. Angel stood and drew his sword once more. Signalling to the boy he moved out into the corridor, seeking stairs.

Despite the danger he was pleased the boy was with him. The silence and the endless corridors were unnerving him. 'Stay close,' whispered the man. 'Old Angel will look after you.'

Not understanding, the boy nodded and grinned up at the gladiator.

'Have you the faintest idea of where we are?' Senta asked Ekodas, as the silver-armoured priest rounded yet another bend in the labyrinth of corridors on the seventh level.

'I think we are close,' said Ekodas, his face eerily pale in the faint yellow light.

Senta saw that he was sweating heavily. 'Are you all right, priest?'

'I can feel the crystal. It is making me nauseous.'

Senta turned to Miriel. 'You do take me to some romantic places,' he said, putting his arm around her and kissing her cheek. 'Volcanic caves, sorcerous castles, and now a trip in the dark a hundred miles below the earth.'

'No more than three hundred feet,' said Ekodas.

'Allow for poetic overstatement,' snapped Senta.

Miriel laughed. 'You needn't have come,' she chided.

'And miss this?' he cried, in mock astonishment. 'What sort of a man refuses a walk in the dark with a beautiful woman?'

'And a priest,' she pointed out.

'That is a flaw, I grant you!'

'Be silent!' hissed Ekodas. Genuinely surprised, Senta was about to fire back an angry reply when he saw that Ekodas was listening intently, his dark eyes narrowing to scan the gloom at the end of the corridor.

'What is it?' whispered Miriel.

'I thought I heard something – like breathing. I don't know, perhaps I imagined it.'

'It is unlikely there'd be anything living down here,' said Miriel. 'There is no food source.'

'I cannot use my Talent here,' said Ekodas, wiping sweat from his face. 'I feel so… so limited. Like a man suddenly blind.'

'Happily you do not need your Talent,' said Senta, still irritated by the priest's outburst. This is hardly the most...' He halted in mid-sentence, for now he could also hear stentorian breathing. Silently he drew his sword.

'It could be a trick of the earth,' whispered Miriel. 'You know, like wind whistling through a crack in the rocks.'

'There's not usually a great deal of wind at this depth,' said Senta.

They moved cautiously on, until they came to a long room, filled with metal cabinets. Most of the glowing panels had ceased to operate, but two still cast pale light across the iron floor. Miriel saw an object lying beneath an overturned table. 'Senta,' she said softly. 'Over there!'

The swordsman crossed the room and knelt. He rose swiftly and backed to where Ekodas and Miriel were standing. 'It's a human leg,' he said. 'Or what's left of it. And believe me, you don't want to know the size of the bite-marks.'

'Kesa Khan said there was no danger,' put in Miriel.

'Perhaps he didn't know,' volunteered Ekodas. 'The crystal is through that doorway. Let me find and destroy it, then we'll leave as fast as we can.'

'If we disappeared in a flash of magic it wouldn't be fast enough,' Senta told him. The priest did not smile, but moved on through what was left of the doorway. 'Look at that,' Senta told Miriel. 'The stone of the wall around the door has been torn out. You know, call me boring if you like, but at this moment I'd like to be sitting in that cabin of yours, with my feet out towards the fire, waiting for you to bring me a goblet of mulled wine.' The lightness of tone could not disguise the fear in his voice, and when Ekodas cried out, apparently in pain, Senta almost dropped his sword.

Miriel was the first to the doorway.

'Get back!' shouted Ekodas. 'Stay beyond the walls. The power is too much for you to bear!'

Senta caught Miriel by the arm and hauled her back. 'You know, beauty, I don't mind telling you that I am frightened. Not for the first time, but I've never known anything like this.'

'And me,' she agreed.

A shuffling sound came from the other end of the hall.

'I have a bad feeling about this,' whispered Senta.

And the creature moved into sight. It was colossal, almost twelve feet high, and Senta gazed in horror at the beast's two heads. Both were grotesque, with only vestigial traces of humanity; the mouths wide, almost as long as his forearm, the teeth crooked and sharp. Miriel drew her sword and backed away. 'Whatever you have to do, Ekodas, do it now!' she shouted.

The creature leaned forward, part-supporting its weight on two huge arms, its three legs drawn up beneath its bloated belly. It looked to Senta like a giant white spider crouching before them. One of the heads lolled to the left, eyes opening, fastening on Miriel. A groan came from its grotesque lips, deep and full of torment. The mouth on the other head opened and a piercing scream echoed in the hall. The creature tensed and shuffled crablike towards them, groaning and screaming.

Miriel edged to the left, Senta to the right.

The beast ignored the swordsman and charged at the girl, scattering tables and chairs. The speed was not great, but its huge bulk seemed to fill the room.

Senta ran at it, hurling himself at its broad back. One of the four arms clubbed at him, smashing his ribs. He staggered and almost fell. But the creature was rearing up above Miriel. She slashed her sword across a huge forearm, slicing deep into the flesh. Then Senta attacked again, plunging his own blade into the great belly.

A fist clubbed him again and he was sent spinning to the floor, his sword torn from his grasp. He saw Miriel dive beneath the creature's grasp and roll to her feet. Senta tried to rise, but a piercing pain clove into his side, and he knew several of his ribs were broken.

'Ekodas! For the sake of all that's holy help us!'

Ekodas knelt in the golden chamber, the crystal held in his hands, his thoughts far away. The doors of his mind were all open now, and the noises from beyond the chamber held no meaning for him. His life unfolded before the eyes of memory, wasted and filled with ridiculous fears. The sanctuary of the temple now seemed more of a grey prison, holding him from the riches of life. He gazed down at the many facets of the crystal, seeing himself reflected a hundred times, and he felt the strength of his soul expanding within the frail flesh of his body.

In an instant he could see not only the battle in the hall outside, but also the grim fighting on the walls far above. And more than this he saw the man Waylander moving silently along the darkened corridors of Zhu Chao's palace.

He laughed then. What did it matter?

And he saw Shia, standing beside the tall Orsa Khan, and the hole in the portcullis gate through which Gothir soldiers were scrambling. Meaningless, he thought, though he felt a shaft of irritation that he would no longer have the opportunity of enjoying her body, his enhanced memory recalling again the smell of her skin and her hair.

'Ekodas! For the sake of all that's holy help us!'

For all that's holy! What an amusing thought. Just like the temple, the Source was created by men as a prison for the soul, to prevent stronger men from enjoying the fruits of their power. I am free of such baggage, he thought.

Dardalion had said the crystal was evil. Such nonsense. It was beautiful, perfect. And what was evil, save a name given by weak men to a force they could neither compre­hend nor control?

'Now you understand,' whispered a voice in his mind. Ekodas closed his eyes, and saw Zhu Chao, sitting at a desk in a small study.

'Yes, I understand,' Ekodas told him.

'Bring me the crystal, and we shall know such power, such joy!'

'Why should I not keep it for myself?'

Zhu Chao laughed. 'The Brotherhood is already in place, Ekodas. Ready to rule. Even with the crystal it would take you years to reach such a position of power.'

'There is truth in that,' agreed Ekodas. 'It will be as you say.'

'Good. Now show me the battle, my brother.'

Ekodas stood and, the crystal in his hands, walked to the doorway. Beyond it he saw Miriel dive to the floor and roll as the beast lunged for her. Senta, one hand clutching his ribs, had drawn a dagger and was stumbling forward to the attack.

Foolish man. Like trying to kill a whale with a needle.

The injured warrior plunged his dagger into the beast's back. The beast half-turned, and a mighty fist crashed into Senta's neck. He crumpled to the floor without a sound. Miriel saw him fall. And screamed, the sound full of fury. Hurling herself forward she thrust her blade into one of the open mouths, plunging it up into what should have been a brain.

Ekodas chuckled. There was no brain there, he knew. It was situated – if brain it could be called – between the heads, in the enormous lump of the shoulders.

The beast caught hold of Miriel, lifting her from her feet. Ekodas found himself wondering whether it would tear her apart, or merely bite her head from her shoulders.

'Such confusion in the beast's mind,' said Zhu Chao. 'Part of it is still Bodalen. It recognises the girl, the twin of a maid he killed by accident. See it hesitate! And can you feel the rising anger from the souls that were once of the Brotherhood?'

'I can,' admitted Ekodas. 'Hunger, desire, bafflement. Amusing, is it not?'

A figure moved in the background.

'More entertainment,' whispered the voice of Zhu Chao. 'Sadly I cannot retain the spell, and must miss the inevitable conclusion. We will share the memory in Gulgothir.'

The sorceror faded from Ekodas, and the young priest returned his attention to the gladiator who had entered the hall.

You shouldn't have come, he thought. You are too weary for such an adventure.

Angel had heard the awful screams and was already running as he entered the hall. He saw Senta stretched out, unconscious on the floor and witnessed the monster lunge down, grabbing Miriel and dragging her into the air.

Reversing his sword, holding it now like a dagger, Angel angled his run, leaping first to a metal table and then launching himself at the beast's bloated back. He landed knees first and plunged his sword deep in the creature's flesh, driving it down with all of his weight. The monster reared up and swung. Angel was thrown clear. It still held Miriel in one huge hand, but now it turned on Angel. Half-stunned he rolled to his feet and staggered.

The boy carrying the torch ran forward, thrusting the burning brand at the beast. One of its many arms thrashed out, but the boy was nimble enough to duck and run back. Angel, his pale eyes glittering with battle fury, saw the beast charge again. Instead of running away, he hurled himself at the grotesque colossus, his hand reaching out for Senta's sword, where it jutted from the swaying belly. Massive fingers caught at Angel's left shoulder, just as his own hand curled around the sword-hilt. The beast lifted him high, the movement tearing the sword free of its prison of flesh. Blood gouted from the wound. Angel smashed the blade into the brow of the second head, splitting the skull.

The creature dropped Miriel, as pain from the awful injury flared through it. Angel struck again. And again. Another hand grabbed Angel's leg, drawing him towards the gaping mouth and the sabre-long fangs.

Miriel swung to see Ekodas, holding tightly to the crystal and leaning on the door-frame watching the drama. Running to him she pulled his sword from its scabbard and returned to the fray.

'Between the shoulders,' said Ekodas, conversationally. 'That's where the brain is located. Can you see the hump there?'

Holding the broadsword two-handed, Miriel sent a powerful cut into the beast's leg, just above the knee. Blood spurted from the wound and the creature staggered back, one hand releasing its hold on Angel's leg. The former gladiator hacked his own sword into the arm holding him. The great fingers spasmed, and he fell to the floor. Blood was pouring from the monster, gushing from both heads, and numerous wounds to the body.

Still it came on. Miriel saw Angel backing away, and knew he was trying to draw it away from her. But now Miriel felt the power of the crystal, enhancing her Talent, filling her with rage. Images flooded her mind, radiating from the beast. Confusion, anger, hunger.

But one image flickered above the rest. Miriel saw Krylla running through the woods, a tall wide-shouldered man pursuing her.

Bodalen.

And she knew. Locked within this loathsome beast was the man who murdered her sister.

A huge arm swept down towards her. Ducking under the clumsy lunge she ran to the left – then charged in at the beast, leaping high, her foot coming down on one massive knee joint. Using this as a foothold she propelled herself up on to its back. A hand reached for her, but she threw herself forward. Reversing the sword she stood high on the beast's shoulders. 'Die!' she screamed. The blade lanced down through the bulging hump. As it pierced the skin the sword seemed to accelerate, for there was no muscle beneath to hold it back, and the skin split like an overripe melon, brains gushing out.

The beast reared one last time, dislodging Miriel. Then it swayed and fell.

Angel ran to where Miriel had fallen, reaching out and helping her to her feet. 'Thank the Source! You're alive!'

He put his arm around her, but she stiffened and he saw her staring towards the still form of Senta. Breaking clear of his embrace she ran to the fallen swordsman, turning him to his back. Senta groaned and opened his eyes. He saw Angel and tried to smile.

'You're wounded again,' he whispered. Angel could feel the blood trickling from torn skin on the side of his face.

Angel knelt by his side, noting the blood at the corners of his mouth, and the unnatural stillness of his limbs. Gently he reached out, squeezing the man's fingers. There was no answering grip.

'Let me help you up,' said Miriel, dragging on his left arm.

'Leave him, girl!' said Angel, his voice soft. Miriel slowly let the arm down.

'Not much of a place to end one's days in, eh, Angel?' said Senta. He coughed and blood sprayed from his handsome mouth, staining his chin. 'Still, I guess I couldn't … be … in better company.'

Angel swung towards Ekodas. 'Can you do anything, priest?'

'Nothing. His neck is broken, and his spine in two places. And his ribs have pierced a lung.' The priest's tone was light, almost disinterested.

Angel returned his attention to the dying swordsman. 'Fancy letting a creature like that kill you,' he said gruffly. 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself.'

'I am.' He smiled and closed his eyes. 'There's no pain. It's very peaceful really.' His eyes flared open, and fear was in his voice. 'You'll carry me out, won't you? Don't want to spend eternity down here. I'd like to be able … to feel the sun . . . you know?'

'I'll carry you myself.'

'Miriel. . .!'

'I'm here,' she said, her voice trembling.

'I'm. . .sorry. . . I had such. . .'His eyes closed again. And he was gone.

'Senta! she shouted. 'Don't do this! Get up. Walk!' Standing she dragged on his arm.

Angel rose and grabbed her. 'Let him go, princess. Let him go!'

'I can't!'

He drew her into a tight embrace. 'It's over,' he said softly. 'He's not here any more.'

Miriel pulled away from him, her face set, eyes gleaming. Spinning on her heel she walked to the dead beast, dragging her sword clear. Then she turned on Ekodas. 'You bastard! You stood by and did nothing. He would be alive but for you.'

'Perhaps,' he agreed. 'Perhaps not.'

'Now you die,' said Miriel, suddenly running forward. Ekodas raised his hand. Miriel groaned and halted so suddenly it seemed she had run into an invisible wall.

'Calm yourself,' said Ekodas. 'I didn't kill him.'

'Destroy the crystal, priest,' said Angel, 'before it destroys you.'

Ekodas smiled. 'You don't understand. No one would who had not felt its power.'

'I can feel it,' said Angel. 'At least I would guess it is the crystal that is filling me with the desire to kill you.'

'Yes, that is probably true. On a lesser mind the crystal would have that kind of effect. I should draw back. Return to the fortress.'

'No,' said Angel. 'You were sent here by those who trusted you. They believed only you had the strength to resist the . . . thing. They were wrong, weren't they? It's overpowered you.'

'Nonsense. It has merely enhanced my considerable Talents.'

'So be it. We'll wait for you at the fortress,' said Angel, with a deep sigh. He stepped forward. 'One small point, though . . .'

'Yes?'

Angel leaned back, and kicked out and up, his boot hitting the crystal, sending it spinning from the priest's hand. Ekodas tried to punch out, but the warrior rolled away from the blow and swung his elbow into the priest's face. Ekodas staggered. Angel sent a thundering left cross that cannoned into his opponent's chin. Ekodas hit the floor face-first – and did not move.

Miriel, freed from whatever spell Ekodas had cast, moved towards the still body.

'Leave him be, child,' said Angel. 'He was not respon­sible.' Moving to the crystal Angel felt its power reaching out to him, with promises of strength, immortality and fame. Angel reeled back. 'Give me the sword,' he told Miriel. Taking the hilt in both hands he smote the crystal with one terrible blow.

It exploded into bright, glittering fragments, and a great rush of cool air filled the hall.

Ignoring the fallen priest Angel walked wearily back to Senta's body and lifted it, letting the head fall against his shoulder.

'Let's take him back to the sunlight,' he said.