Quest for Lost Heroes (25 page)

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Authors: David Gemmell

Tags: #Fantasy, #Epic, #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy - General, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Drenai (Imaginary place), #Slavery, #Heroes

BOOK: Quest for Lost Heroes
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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. 'I'll 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.

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