'How do you like my new form, Great King?' sneered Chakata. 'Is it not magnificent?'
Oshikai did not answer, but began to crawl towards the creature's neck. 'Shall I tell you how many times I have enjoyed Shul-sen? Shall I describe the pleasures I have forced her to undergo?' The King moved closer. The face of Chakata smiled. The bat banked suddenly and Oshikai began to fall - then lashed out with his axe, burying it deep into the black wing. Slowly he hauled himself closer to the neck, dragging the axe clear and hammering it again through the fur, inching his way towards his enemy.
'Don't be a fool, Oshikai!' shouted Chakata. 'If you kill me, you will fall with me. You will never see Shul-sen again!'
Slowly, inexorably the King moved on. The bat flipped over into a backward dive, then rolled and beat its wings trying to dislodge the tiny figure. But Oshikai clung on. Closer and closer he came to the head. The bat's jaws snapped at him, but he rolled wide of them. Dragging clear his axe, he dealt a mighty blow to the creature's neck. Black blood gouted from the wound. Twice more he struck. Suddenly the bat's wings folded, and the body began to plummet towards the bridge far below. Oshikai continued to hammer his blade into the half-severed neck, cleaving through bone and sinew. The head fell clear, the dead beast spiralling down towards the pit.
Determined not to die alongside such vermin, Oshikai threw himself from the corpse.
Far below the naked Shul-sen had clambered free of the tunnel, and she stood now watching the epic battle in the grey skies above. Now free of the spells Chakata had woven, she felt her power returning. Instantly she clothed herself in shirt and leggings of silver silk, and a cloud-white cloak. Pulling her cloak from her shoulders, she spoke the Five Words of the Eleventh Spell. Then she hurled the cloak high into the air. It flew on, spinning wildly, a wheel of white cloth glistening against the smoke-grey sky.
Shul-sen stood with hand outstretched, directing the cloak with all the power she could muster. The dead creature that had once been Chakata plunged down into the abyss. Oshikai continued to fall, but the cloak soared up towards him, enveloping his body. For a moment only the fall was halted, but then he plunged on with the cloak around him. Shul-sen cried out, the cloak flared open and Oshikai's rapid descent slowed. The cloak floated down to the bridge and Oshikai jumped clear. Shul-sen ran down the hillside towards him, arms outstretched. Dropping his axe he went to meet her, drawing her in to a tight embrace. For a long moment he held her thus, then drew back, and she saw tears upon his cheeks.
'I have searched for so long,' he said. 'I had begun to believe I would never find you.'
'But you did, my Lord,' she whispered, kissing his lips and the tear-stained cheeks.
For a long time they stood, holding each other close. Then he took her hand and led her to where Druss lay on the bridge. Oshikai knelt beside him. 'By all that is sacred, I never met a man like you, Druss. I pray that we meet again.'
'Not here, though, eh?' grunted Druss. 'Perhaps you could choose somewhere more . . . hospitable?'
Two glowing figures appeared on the bridge, with light blazing around them. Druss squinted and shaded his eyes as the figures came closer. There was no threat from them, and Oshikai rose to meet them.
'It is time,' came a gentle voice.
'You can take us both,' said Oshikai.
'No. Only you.'
'Then I will not come.'
The first of the glowing figures swung towards the woman. 'You are not ready, Shul-sen. You carry too much that is dark within you. All that was good came from your union with this man; the only selfless acts you committed were for him. Twice now he has refused Paradise. This third refusal will be final . . . we will come for him no more.'
'Give me a moment with him,' she said. 'Alone.'
The glowing figures floated away some fifty paces. Shul-sen approached Oshikai. 'I will not leave you,' he said. 'Not again.'
Reaching up, she cupped her hand around his neck, drawing his head down into a long, lingering kiss. When at last they separated she stroked his handsome face, and gave a wistful smile. 'Would you deny me Paradise, my love ?' she asked him.
'What do you mean?'
'If you refuse them now, you will never see the Land of Heavenly Dreams. And if you do not, then how can I? By refusing them you sentence us to walk the Void for ever.'
Drawing her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers tenderly. 'But I have waited so long for you. I could not bear another parting.'
'And yet you must,' she said, forcing a smile. 'We are united, Oshikai. We will be again. But when next I see you it will be under blue skies, beside whispering streams. Go now - and wait for me.'
'I love you,' he said. 'You are the stars and moon to me.'
Pulling away from him, she turned to the glowing figures. 'Take him,' she said. 'Let him know joy.' As they drew closer, she looked hard into the shining face of the first of the men. 'Tell me, can I earn a place beside him?'
'What you have done here is a step towards it, Shul-sen. You know where we are. The journey will be long, and there will be many calls upon you. Travel with Shaoshad. He too has much to learn.'
The second of the men floated alongside Druss, laying a golden hand upon his body. All wounds closed, and Druss felt new strength coursing through him.
Then, in an instant, they were gone, and Oshikai with them. As Shul-sen fell to her knees, her long, dark hair falling over her face, Shaoshad moved to her side. 'We will find him, my Lady. Together. And great will be the joy when we do.'
Shul-sen gave a deep, shuddering sigh. 'Then let us be away,' she said, rising to her feet. Druss rose also.
'I wish I could help you,' he said.
Taking his hand, she kissed it. 'I knew you were the one,' she told him. 'You are like him in so many ways. Go back now to the world you know.'
Her hand touched his head, and darkness swallowed him.
Chapter Eleven
Druss awoke to see the dawn sunlight shining through the window of the tomb. Never had he been happier to witness the birth of a new day. Sieben moved alongside him, and Nosta Khan edged forward, blocking the sunlight. 'Speak!' said the shaman. 'Did you succeed?'
'Aye,' muttered Druss, sitting up. 'They were united.'
'Did you ask about the Eyes of Alchazzar?'
'No.'
'What?' stormed the shaman. 'Then what was the purpose of this insane journey?'
Ignoring him, Druss stood and walked to where Talisman lay sleeping. Laying a huge hand on the young man's shoulder, Druss called to him. Talisman's dark eyes opened. 'Did we win?' he asked.
'We won, laddie, after a fashion.' Quietly Druss told him about the appearance of the angels, and the second separation.
Talisman pushed himself to his feet. 'I hope she finds him,' he said, and walked from the building, followed by Nosta Khan.
'Their gratitude brings a tear to my old eyes,' said Sieben sourly.
Druss shrugged. 'It is done. That is what counts.'
'So, tell me all.'
'I don't think so, poet. I want no songs about this.'
'No songs - you have my word of honour,' lied the poet.
Druss chuckled. 'Maybe later. For now I need some food, and a long, slow drink of cool water.'
'Was she beautiful?'
'Exceptionally. But she had a hard face,' said Druss, striding away. Sieben followed him out into the sunlight as Druss stood, gazing up at the rich blue of the sky. 'The Void is an ugly place, devoid of colour save for the red of flame, and the grey of stone and ash and sky. It is a chilling thought that we must all walk it one day.'
'Chilling. Absolutely,' agreed Sieben. 'Now the story, Druss. Tell me the story.'
Above them on the ramparts, with Gorkai and Nosta Khan beside him, Talisman gazed down at Druss and the poet. 'He should have died there,' said Nosta Khan. 'His life force was almost gone. But it surged back.'
Talisman nodded. 'I have never seen the like,' he admitted. 'Watching Druss and Oshikai together, battling dem
ons and monsters . . . it was awesome. From the moment they met they were like sword brothers, and when they fought side by side it seemed they had known each other for an eternity. I could not compete, shaman. I was like a child among men. And yet I felt no bitterness. I felt. . . privileged.'
'Aye,' whispered Gorkai, 'to have fought beside Oshikai Demon-bane is privilege indeed.'
'Yet we are no closer to the Eyes,' snapped Nosta Khan. 'A great warrior he may be, but he is a fool, Shaoshad would have told him had he but asked!'
'We will find them, or we won't! I'll lose no more sleep over it,' said Talisman. Leaving the shaman, he moved down the rampart steps and crossed the open ground to the lodging house.
Zhusai was asleep in the bed and Talisman sat beside her, stroking her hair. Her dark eyes opened, and she gave a sleepy smile. 'I waited until Gorkai told me you were safe; then I slept.'
'We are all safe,' he told her, 'and Shul-sen will haunt you no more.' He fell silent. Sitting up, she took his hand, and saw the sorrow in his eyes.
'What is it, Talisman? Why so sad?'
'Their love lasted an eternity,' he said, his voice low. 'Yet for us there will be no joining. All my life I have longed to help the Uniter band our people together. I thought there was no greater cause. You fill my mind, Zhusai. I know now that when the Uniter takes you I will not be able to follow him. I could not.'
'Then let us defy the prediction,' she said, taking him in her arms. 'Let us be together.'
Gently but firmly he took hold of her arms, drawing away from her. 'I cannot do that either. My duty forbids it. I shall tell Nosta Khan to take you away from here. Tomorrow.'
'No! I will not go.'
'If you truly love me you will, Zhusai. I need to clear my mind for the battle ahead.' Rising, he left her and returned to the compound. For the next hour he toured the fortifications, checking the repairs to the ramparts. Lastly he sent Quing-chin and three riders to scout for the enemy.
'Do not engage them, my friend,' he told Quing-chin. 'I need you here when the battle begins.'
'I will be here,' the warrior promised. And he rode from the fort.
Gorkai approached Talisman. 'You should take the woman,' he said softly.
Talisman turned on him angrily. 'You were listening?'
'Yes. Every word,' agreed Gorkai amiably. 'You should take her.'
'And what of duty? What of the fate of the Nadir?'
Gorkai smiled. 'You are a great man, Talisman, but you are not thinking this through. We won't survive here, we are all going to die. So if you wed her, she will be a widow in a few days anyway. Nosta Khan says he can spirit her away. Good. Then the Uniter will wed your widow. So how will destiny be changed?'
'What if we win?'
'You mean what if the puppy-dog devours the lion?' Gorkai shrugged. 'My view on that is simple, Talisman. I follow you. If the Uniter wants my loyalty, then let him be here fighting with us! Last night you united Oshikai and Shul-sen. Look around you. There are men here of five tribes. You have united them - that's enough of a Uniter for me.'
'I am not the man prophesied.'
'I do not care. You are the man that's here. I am older than you, boy, and I have made many mistakes. You are making one now, regarding Zhusai. True love is rare. Take it where you find it. That is all I have to say.'
Druss sat quietly on the ramparts, gazing around at the defenders as they continued their work on the walls, carrying rocks to hurl down on advancing infantrymen. There were now just under two hundred fighting men, the bulk of them refugees from the Curved Horn. Nuang Xuan had sent his people to the east, but several women remained behind, Niobe among them. The old man waved at Druss, then climbed the broken steps to the ramparts. He was breathing heavily when he reached the top. 'A fine day, axeman,' he said, drawing in a deep breath.
'Aye,' agreed Druss.
'It is a good fort now, yes?'
'A good fort with old gates,' said Druss. 'That's the weak spot.'
'That is my position,' said Nuang, his face devoid of expression. 'Talisman has told me to stand among the defenders at that point. If the gate is breached we are to fill it with bodies.' He forced a smile. 'A long time since I have known such fear - but it is a good feeling.'
Druss nodded. 'If the gate is breached, old man, you will find me beside you.'
'Ha! Then there will be plenty killing.' Nuang's expression softened. 'You will be fighting your own people again. How does this sit with you?'
Druss shrugged. 'They are not my people, and I do not go hunting them. They are coming for me. Their deaths are on their own heads.'
'You are a hard man, Druss. Nadir blood, maybe.'
'Maybe.' Nuang saw his nephew, Meng, below and called out to him. Without a word of farewell the old man strolled back down the steps. Druss transferred his gaze to the west and the line of hills. The enemy would be here soon. He thought of Rowena, back at the farm, and the days of work among the herds, the quiet of the nights in their spacious cabin. Why is it, he wondered, that when I am away from her I long for her company, and when I am with her I yearn for the call to arms? His thoughts ranged back to his childhood, travelling with his father, trying to escape the infamy of Bardan the Slayer. Druss glanced down at Snaga, resting against the battlement wall. The dread axe had belonged to his grandfather, Bardan. It had been demon-possessed then, and had turned Bardan into a raging killer, a butcher. Druss, too, had been touched by it. Is that why I am what I am, he thought? Even though the demon had long since been exorcized, still its malice had worked on him through the long years when he searched for Rowena.
Not normally introspective, Druss found his mood darkening. He had not come to the lands of the Gothir for war, but to take part in the Games. Now, through no fault of his own, he was waiting for a powerful army, and desperate to find two healing jewels that would bring Klay back to health.
'You look angry, old horse,' said Sieben, moving alongside him. Druss looked at his friend. The poet was wearing a pale blue shirt, with buttons of polished bone. His baldric was freshly polished, the knife-handles gleaming in their sheaths. His blond hair was newly combed, and held in place by a headband at the centre of which an opal was set.
'How do you do it?' asked Druss. 'Here we are in a dust-blown wilderness, and you look as if you've just stepped from a bathhouse?'
'Standards must always be maintained,' said Sieben, with a broad grin. 'These savages need to see how civilized men behave.'
Druss chuckled. 'You lift my spirits, poet. You always have.'
'Why so gloomy? War and death are but a few days away. I would have thought you would have been dancing for joy.'
'I was thinking of Klay. The jewels aren't here, and I can't keep my promise to him.'
'Oh, don't be too sure of that, old horse. I have a theory — but we'll say no more of it until the time is right.'
'You think you can find them?'
'As I said, I have a theory. But now is not the time. Nosta Khan wanted you to die, you know, and you almost did. We cannot trust him, Druss. Nor Talisman. The jewels are too important to them.'
'You are right there,' grunted Druss. 'The shaman is a loathsome wretch.'
'What's that?' exclaimed Sieben, pointing to the line of hills. 'Oh, sweet Heaven, they are here!'
Druss narrowed his eyes. A line of Lancers in bright armour were riding single file down the hillside. A cry went up on the walls and warriors ran from the com-pound to take their places, bows in hand.
'They are riding ponies,' muttered Druss. 'What in Hell's name . . . ?'
Talisman and Nosta Khan came alongside Druss. The riders beyond broke into a gallop and thundered across the plain with their lances held high. On each lance was a spitted head.
'It is Lin-tse!' shouted Talisman. The Nadir defenders began to cheer and shout as the thirty riders slowed to a canter and rode along the line of the wall, lifting their lances and showing their grisly trophies. One by one they thrust the lances into the ground, then
rode through the newly opened gates. Lin-tse jumped from his pony and removed the Gothir helm. Warriors streamed from the walls to surround him and his Sky Riders.
Lin-tse began to chant in the Nadir tongue. He leapt and danced, to wild cheering from the warriors. On the battlements above Sieben watched in fascination, but could understand none of the words. He turned to Nosta Khan. 'What is he saying?'
'He is telling of the slaughter of the enemy, and how his men rode the sky to defeat them.'
'Rode the sky? What does it mean?'
'It means the first victory is ours,' snapped the shaman. 'Now be silent so I can listen.'
'Irritating man,' muttered Sieben, sitting back alongside Druss.
Lin-tse's story took almost a quarter of an hour to complete, and at the close the warriors swept in around him, lifting him shoulder-high. Talisman sat quietly until the roar of noise died down. When Lin-tse was lowered to the ground, he walked to Talisman and gave a short bow. 'Your orders were obeyed,' he said. 'Many Lancers are dead, and I have their armour.'
'You did well, my brother.'
Talisman strode to the rampart steps and climbed them, swinging back to stare down at the gathered men.
'They can be beaten,' he said, still speaking Nadir. 'They are not invincible. We have tasted their blood, and we will taste more. When they come to despoil the Shrine we will stop them. For we are Nadir, and our day is dawning. This is but the beginning. What we do here will become part of our legends. The story of your heroism will spread on the wings of fire to every Nadir tribe, every camp and village. It will bring the Day of the Uniter closer. And one day we will stand before the walls of Gulgothir, and the city itself will tremble before us.' Slowly he raised his right arm, with fist clenched. 'Nadir we!' he shouted. The warriors followed him, and the chant was taken up.
'Nadir we,