Hero in the Shadows (41 page)

“In all animals muscles work in rhythmic harmony, sharing the load. A man lifts a cup to his lips. He does not use
all
his strength to do this. Only a few of the muscles in his biceps will be needed. If he lifts a rock, he will use more. Imagine a muscle as being, say, twenty men. If you have to raise the rock ten times, then the first time two of the men will do it, the second time two more, and so on. But it is possible—though not wise—to engage all the men at once. This is what I did, though Yu Yu will not thank me when he wakes.” He smiled. “Ah, but I have enjoyed this last moment of the flesh, the scent of the forest, the feeling of cool air in my lungs.”

“You will feel it again, surely, when we find the Men of Clay. You will return to aid us.”

“I will not return, Kysumu. These are my last moments in the world.”

“There is so much I want to ask you.”

“There is only one question that burns in your heart, swordsman. Why were you not chosen to be the
pria-shath
?”

“Can you tell me?”

“Better for you to discover the truth yourself,” said Qin Chong. “Farewell, Kysumu.”

With that he closed his eyes and was gone.

Niall was dreaming about his father. They were hawking in the high country close to the castle. His father’s bird, the legendary Eera, had brought down three hares. Niall’s bird, young and newly trained, had flown to a nearby tree and would not come down at Niall’s call.

“You must have patience,” his father said as they sat together. “Bird and man never form a friendship. It is a partnership. As long as you feed him, he will stay with you. He will not, however, offer you loyalty or friendship.”

“I thought he liked me. He dances whenever I come close.”

“We shall see.”

They had waited for some hours, and then the hawk had flown away, never to return.

Niall awoke. For a heartbeat he felt warm and secure in his father’s love. Then, with terrible ferocity, reality smote him and he groaned aloud. He sat up, his heart breaking. Emrin was asleep on the ground close by. The Gray Man was seated on a rock close to the horses. He did not look around. His figure was silhouetted by the bright moon, and Niall guessed he was staring back over the moonlit plain, seeking signs of pursuit. He had rejoined them some hours before, leading them to this high, lonely place bordering the trees. The Gray Man had said little to Niall.

The young man rose from his blanket and strolled to where the Gray Man sat. “May I join you?” he asked. The Gray Man nodded. Niall sat alongside him on the flat rock. “I am sorry for my words earlier. It was ungrateful of me. Without you I would have been killed by a man I trusted. And Emrin would be dead.”

“You were not wrong,” said the Gray Man, “I am a killer. Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, a good one.”

“Ah, yes. They can hurt worse than fire on the soul.”

“I cannot believe my father is dead,” said Niall. “I thought he would either live forever or die swinging his great sword and cleaving his enemies.”

“When it comes, death is usually sudden,” said the Gray Man.

They sat in silence for a while. Niall found himself calmed by the Gray Man’s presence. “I trusted Gaspir,” the boy said at last. “He had the ability to make me lose my fear. He seemed so strong, so loyal. I shall never trust anyone again.”

“Do not even think that,” warned the Gray Man. “There are people who are worthy of trust. If you become suspicious of everyone, you will never have true friends.”

“Do you have friends?”

The Gray Man looked at him and smiled. “No. Therefore, I speak from experience.”

“What do you think will happen now?”

“They’ll be more careful who they send after us. Tough men, trackers, foresters.”

“Demons?” asked the boy, trying to disguise his fear.

“Aye, and demons,” agreed the Gray Man.

“We are beaten, aren’t we? Panagyn and Aric have thousands of men. I have nothing. If I were to make it back to the capital, I wouldn’t know where to go.”

“The armies mean nothing without men to lead them,” said the Gray Man. “When I have you in a place of safety, I shall return. Then we will see.”

“You would go back to Carlis? Why?”

The Gray Man did not answer but pointed down to the plain below. In the distance Niall could see a line of riders. “Wake Emrin,” ordered the Gray Man. “It is time to be moving.”

Yu Yu groaned as he awoke. He felt as if a herd of oxen had spent the night walking across his body. With a grunt of pain he struggled up. Kysumu was at the mouth of the cave, his sword in his lap. “I don’t want to be a hero,” grumbled Yu Yu.

“You have been asleep for hours,” Kysumu said wearily. The little
Rajnee
rose and padded away from the cave. Yu Yu pushed himself to his knees and groaned again. Glancing down, he saw the fresh stitches in the new wound to his shoulder. “Every time I fight, I get hurt,” he said, though Kysumu was nowhere in sight. “Every time. And when a great hero takes over my body,
he
gets hurt. I’m tired of my body getting hurt. Once we find the Men of Clay, I’m going home. I’m going to dig ditches.” He thought about it for a moment, remembering the threat to his life. “No, first I’m going to sneak into Shi Da’s house and cut his throat.
Then
I’ll dig ditches.”

“You are talking to yourself,” said Kysumu, returning to the cave with a double handful of dark berries. He offered
them to Yu Yu, who sat down and ate gratefully. They did no more than dent the edge of his appetite.

“Qin Chong came to me,” said Kysumu.

“I know. I was there. Here. Whatever! He was very complimentary about my strength and speed. We fought well, hey? Cut his bastard head off.”

“You fought well,” agreed Kysumu. “But now there are six more
Kriaz-nor
closing in on us.”

“Six? That’s a lot,” said Yu Yu. “Don’t know if I could kill six.”

“
You
couldn’t kill one,” said Kysumu, an edge of irritation in his voice.

“I know why you are angry. Qin Chong would not tell you why you weren’t the
pria-shath.
”

Kysumu sighed. “You are correct, Yu Yu. All my life I have struggled to be the perfect
Rajnee
, to be worthy of the name, and to uphold the standards set by men like Qin Chong. I could have been rich, the owner of a palace, the lord of a province. I could have wed the Star Lily.”

“The Star Lily?” queried Yu Yu.

“It is not important. I have eschewed all riches and remained a humble swordsman. What more could I have done to be worthy?”

“I don’t know,” said Yu Yu. “I haven’t done any of those things. But then, I didn’t want to be the
pria-shath
. Don’t know why anyone would, really.” He wandered out of the cave, seeking more berries and finding a bush some sixty paces away. They were not quite ripe, but they tasted heavenly. Yu Yu had no idea why Kysumu longed to be the
pria-shath
. What was so great about being hunted and hungry, with killers on your trail? As far as Yu Yu was concerned, he wished Kysumu
had
been the
pria-shath
. Having stripped the bush, Yu Yu turned and stopped in his tracks. The cave was set into the side of a domed hill. Yu Yu stared at it, remembering his spirit journeys with Qin Chong. As fast as his bruised limbs would carry
him he hurried back to the cave. “We are here,” he told Kysumu. “This is it! This is the hill of the Men of Clay.”

“You are sure?”

“Certain.”

The two men moved to the open air, scanning the hillside. “How do we enter?” asked Kysumu.

“I don’t know.”

Slowly they traversed the base. No trees grew on the hillside, and there were no openings of any kind except for the cave in which they had rested. Kysumu climbed to the top, scanning the surrounding ground. Then he returned to where Yu Yu waited.

“I can see no sign of an entrance,” said Kysumu.

They walked back to the cave, and Kysumu began to examine the gray walls. They were seamless. Yu Yu waited outside. He, too, was mystified. In his dream he had seen the
Riaj-nor
walking to this hillside and vanishing inside. He did not recall there being a cave or indeed an overhang like the one above, jutting from the hillside like a lean- to roof.

He walked back to the berry bush and stared at the overhang and the land below it. He had been a ditchdigger and a builder for most of his adult life, and he knew a little about the movement of soil. It seemed to him then that the area around the cave mouth could have eroded, exposing the cave.

Kysumu joined him. “I can find nothing,” he said.

Yu Yu ignored him, and walked to the rock face, just to the left of the cave mouth. His body was still aching, but he reached up, found a handhold, and slowly began to climb. Had he not been so bruised and weary, the climb would have been easy. As it was, he was grunting as he hauled himself over the lip of the overhang.

“Up here!” he called, beckoning Kysumu to follow him.

The little
Rajnee
scaled the face swiftly. There was a slab of stone some six feet high and four feet wide set vertically into the hillside.

“It looks like a door,” said Kysumu, pushing at it. It did not budge.

Yu Yu did not answer. He was staring toward the tree line, where six warriors had emerged.

Kysumu saw them, too. “At least they don’t have bows,” he muttered. “Perhaps I can kill them as they climb.”

Yu Yu stepped toward the rock door, extending his hand. As his fingers touched the stone, it shimmered just like a pebble falling into a pond. Tiny waves rippled out. Yu Yu stood for a moment staring at the ripples, then reached out. His hand passed through the door as if through a cold fog. He gestured to Kysumu, who was watching the advancing
Kriaz-nor
. “I have found the way in,” he said, pointing to the cold stone.

“What are you talking about?”

Yu Yu swung back to see that the entrance was solid stone once more.

“Take my hand,” said Yu Yu.

“We have you now, little men!” shouted a
Kriaz-nor
, running forward and scrambling up toward them. Kysumu’s blade swept into the air.

Yu Yu touched the stone once more, and, as the ripples began, he grabbed Kysumu’s arm and dragged him through the fog.

On the other side they stood in pitch darkness.

“Oh this is wonderful!” said Yu Yu. “What now?”

Immediately a score of lanterns flared. Kysumu narrowed his eyes against the sudden glare. As his vision was acclimatized, he saw they were standing in a short tunnel leading to a vast domed hall. Releasing Yu Yu’s hand, Kysumu moved to the end of the tunnel. Within the hall, standing in ranks, were several hundred dazzlingly white full-sized clay figures. Each of the figures was of a
Riaj-nor
swordsman. They were magnificently cast and sculpted. Toward the front of the silent army three of the figures lay broken. A section of rock had fallen from the roof, shattering them. Kysumu picked up a section of a fragmented head and examined it. He had never
seen such quality of workmanship. Reverently replacing it on the ground, he moved through the ghostly ranks, gazing upon their faces. Such nobility. Such humanity. Kysumu was awestruck. He felt he could see modest heroism in every face. These were the great ones who had fought a colossal evil for the benefit of mankind. Kysumu’s heart swelled. He felt immensely privileged merely to gaze upon their features.

Yu Yu sat down, leaning his back against the wall and closing his eyes.

After a while Kysumu came back and sat alongside him. “What do we do now?” he asked.

“You do as you please,” said Yu Yu. “I need to rest.” Stretching out, he laid his head on his arm and fell asleep.

Kysumu rose. He could not take his eyes from the grim Men of Clay. Every face was different, though each wore the same armor: ornate helms that flared out to protect the neck, torso protectors that seemed to have been created from coins, perfectly round and held together by small rings. Each of the warriors was also clothed in a full-length tunic split to the waist at the front and back. Their swords were like his own, long and slightly curved. Kysumu strolled through the ranks again, wondering which of these men was Qin Chong.

The lanterns burned brightly. Kysumu examined one and saw that it carried no oil, no fuel of any kind. A globe of glass sat on a small cup, white light radiating from its center.

Slowly he walked around the domed hall. On one side he found hundreds of small golden items laid on a wide rocky shelf. Some were rings, others brooches or wrist bangles, scattered and piled one upon another. There were pendants, ornaments, and tiny good-luck figures shaped in the form of animals, dogs, cats, even the head of a bear. Mystified, Kysumu returned to where Yu Yu slept. He did not try to wake him. Yu Yu was exhausted.

A dull thumping sound echoed through the hall. Kysumu guessed that the
Kriaz-nor
had climbed to the overhang and
were seeking a way through. They will not move that rock, he thought. But sooner or later he and Yu Yu would have to leave this place and face them.

He stared once more at the Men of Clay. “Well, we have found you, my brothers,” he said. “But what happens now?”

Matze Chai sat quietly, waiting for the interrogation to begin. He had heard of the massacre at the Winter Palace and knew that Waylander was once more a hunted man. What he did not know was why he had been summoned to the Oak Room of Waylander’s home.

The captain of his guard, young Liu, was standing at his master’s right-hand side. Opposite sat the magicker Eldicar Manushan and two men who had been introduced as the lords Aric and Panagyn. Matze instantly found himself disliking both of them. Aric had the look of a contented weasel, while Panagyn’s face was flat and brutal. A slender blond-haired little boy stood beside the magicker. Despite himself Matze found himself warming to the little lad, which was strange, since he loathed children.

The silence grew. Finally Eldicar Manushan spoke. “It is my understanding that the individual known as the Gray Man is one of your clients.”

Matze said nothing, but he held the magicker’s gaze and maintained an expression of icy disdain.