Quest for Lost Heroes (36 page)

'Of course. Well, that is Beltzer.' The giant grinned and thrust out a hand. Chien looked down at it with some distaste. It had all the aesthetic appeal of a shovel: the fingers were thick and short, ingrained with dirt, and there were grease stains on the skin. Chien sighed and gripped the hand briefly. Harokas merely nodded, as did Tanaki, but Kiall also offered his hand. This one at least was clean.

'So why is an ambassador from the east dressed as a Nadir rider?' asked Chareos.

Chien told him of the bridal gift, and of the attack upon his party. 'Unfortunately treachery is a way of life among the Nadir,' he said.

'Not only the Nadir,' put in Tanaki, her face blushing. 'The Gothir too have a long history of betrayal and broken promises.'

'I am sorry, Princess,' said Chareos. 'You are of course correct; it was a discourteous comment. But tell me, ambassador, what are your plans? Why have you not tried to reach a port for a ship home?'

'All in its own time, Chareos,' answered the warrior. 'But for now I have offered my aid to Asta Khan, and he is willing to help you. That, I believe, makes us companions.'

'You are more than welcome to travel with us, but I would appreciate knowing your purpose. It does not sit well with me to have a comrade whose plans are a mystery.'

'That I can understand. But I will follow your lead and even your instructions as leader of the group. You need know no more. When my own plans are more stone than smoke, I will inform you - and we will part company.'

Chien moved to the rear of the cave and settled down alongside a second fire, built for him by Oshi. He was more relaxed now. Chareos was almost civilised, and a thinking man. Beltzer was obviously no great thinker, but he wielded the huge axe as if it was no weight at all. The woman was unusual - great facial beauty, but with a body too stringy and boylike for Chien's taste. Yet her eyes radiated strength and purpose. Chien could identify no weak point within the group, and that pleased him.

He settled down to sleep.

Chareos wandered to the cave-mouth, looking up at the stars. There were few clouds and the vault of Heaven was enormous, breathtaking in its scale.

'Welcome to my hearth,' said a sibilant voice and

Chareos felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stiffen. He turned slowly. Squatting in the shadows was an old man, wearing a thin loin-cloth of skin and a necklace of human teeth.

'Thank you, Asta Khan,' replied Chareos, moving to sit opposite the old man. 'I am glad to see you well.'

'Your aid was vital. I will not forget it.'

'Okas is dead,' said Chareos.

'I know. Protecting me was a great trial for him and he had little strength left. Now I shall aid you. I know a way into the city - into the bowels of the palace. There you can rescue the woman.'

'Why would you do this, shaman? And do not tell me about paying a debt: that is not the Nadir way. What do you hope to gain?'

'What does it matter?' asked Asta, his face a mask, his eyes cold and impenetrable.

'I do not enjoy playing another man's game.'

'Then let me say this - I have no interest in the woman. You may take her. That is what you want, is it not? There is nothing else you desire?'

'That is true enough,' answered Chareos, 'but now I have two men with their own secret plans.'

Asta cackled and the sound made Chareos shiver. 'The Kiatze? He wishes only to kill Jungir Khan. No more. When the time is right, he will leave you. Now you have only one man to concern yourself with.'

Chareos was uneasy, but he said nothing. He did not like Asta Khan and knew there was more to be said. Yet he could find no words. The old man watched him, his eyes unblinking. Chareos had the feeling his mind was being read.

'You must rest tonight,' said Asta. 'Tomorrow we walk the Path of Souls. It will not be an easy journey but, with luck and courage, we will pass through.'

'I have heard of this Path,' whispered Chareos. 'It is between worlds and it is said to be inhabited by evil creatures. Why must we walk it?'

'Because even as we speak the general Tsudai is riding towards us. He will be in the mountains by dawn. But, of course, you may prefer to fight three hundred men . . .'

'Three of our party are dead already. I wish to see no more die.'

'Sadly, Chareos, such is the fate of the
ghosts-yet-to-be
.'

Beltzer could not sleep. He lay back in the flickering torchlight and closed his eyes, but all he could see were the faces of Finn, Maggrig and Okas. Rolling to his side, he opened his eyes. His axe was resting against the cave wall beside him and he looked at his reflection in the broad blades.

You look like your father, he told himself, remembering the grim-faced farmer and his constant, unrelenting battle against poverty. Up an hour before dawn, in bed at midnight, day in day out, engaged in a war he could never hope to win. The farmland was rocky, near barren, but somehow his father had fought the sterile environment, producing enough food to feed Beltzer and his five brothers. By the time Beltzer was fourteen three of the brothers had gone, run away in search of an easier life in the city. The other two had died with his mother during the Red Plague. Beltzer stayed on, working alongside the bitter old man until at last, while guiding the plough-horses, his father had clutched his chest and sagged to the ground. Beltzer had been felling trees in the high meadow and had seen him fall. He had dropped his axe and sprinted down to him, but when he arrived the old man was dead.

Beltzer could not remember one kind word from his father, and had seen him smile only once, when he was drunk one midwinter evening.

He had buried him in the thin soil and had walked from the farmhouse without a backward glance.

Of his brothers he heard nothing. It was as if they had never been.

His mother was a quiet woman, tough and hardy. She too had rarely smiled, but when he thought back he realised she had had little to smile about. He had been beside her when she died. Her face had lost its perennial weariness; she had been almost pretty then.

Beltzer sat up, feeling melancholy. Looking around, he saw Chareos asleep by the dying fire. He rose and took his axe, wanting to see the stars, feel the night wind on his face.

He missed Finn. That night on the gate-tower when the Nadir dragged the bowman from the walls Beltzer had leapt in among them, cleaving and killing. He was amazed to find Chareos and Maggrig beside him. Stooping, he had lifted Finn to his back and run for the gate.

Later, when Finn recovered consciousness, his gashed brow bandaged, Beltzer had gone to him.

'How do you feel?' he had asked.

'I'd be a damn sight better if you hadn't rapped my head against that door-post,' grumbled Finn.

By all the gods in Heaven, that was a time to be alive!

Beltzer felt the breeze on his face and strolled into the last tunnel.

He stopped in his tracks . . .

There before him were scores of Nadir warriors, creeping in through the entrance. They had not seen him and quickly he stepped back into the shadows.

He thought of his friends, sleeping peacefully some thirty paces away. The Nadir would be upon them in seconds.

But if he stayed where he was, he could be safe. He could live. He had the gold he had buried near Finn's cabin; that would keep him for years.

Sweet Heaven, I don't want to die!

He stepped out to stand before the Nadir, the torchlight glinting on his red and silver beard, his axe shining crimson.

'Nadir!' he bellowed, the sound echoing through the tunnels. They drew their swords and charged. Never one to wait he lifted his axe, shouted a war-cry and ran to meet them. The blades sliced down and wounded warriors screamed in agony as the giant cut and clove them aside in the narrow tunnel. Swords pierced his flesh, but he felt no pain. A man loomed before him and Beltzer slammed the axe forward, the tips of the butterfly blades skewering his chest. The Nadir fell back. Beltzer staggered, but remained upright.

'Well, my boys," he said. 'You want to be on my mountain? You want to see the sky?'

A warrior drew his bow and let loose a shaft. Beltzer's axe came up and the arrow glanced from the blades, ripping the skin of Beltzer's temple. The Nadir charged once more, but in the narrow tunnel they could only come at him three abreast. He roared his anger and lifted the bloodied axe. Four more died, then another three, before they fell back again.

Back in the chamber Chareos had gathered his sword and was sprinting back towards the tunnels, Harokas and the others behind him.

Asta Khan stepped into his path. 'You can do nothing!' hissed the old man.

'He is my friend,' protested Chareos, reaching out to brush the shaman aside.

'I know!' whispered Asta. 'That is why he is dying for you: to give you a chance. Don't let him down now. It would break his spirit if you were to die also. Can't you understand that?'

Chareos groaned. He knew it was true, and the pain of that knowledge was too much.

'Follow me!' said Asta, moving off into the darkness. He took the questors to a second chamber, smaller than the first; there he knelt and raised his hands, palms outwards. No words were spoken, but the chamber grew cold, and colder still. Tanaki shivered and leaned in close to Kiall, who lifted his cloak around her shoulders. A deeper darkness formed before the old man and he rose. 'Follow,' he commanded. He stepped into the black doorway.

And disappeared . . .

For a moment the questors stood rooted to the spot; then Harokas walked after Asta, followed by Chien and the trembling Oshi.

'Now you,' said Chareos to Kiall.

The younger man looked at Chareos, reading the intent in his eyes.

'No, Chareos. We will go through together - or back together.'

'I don't want you to die, boy!'

'Nor I you - but the shaman is right. Beltzer would not want you there. This is his victory - that we escape.'

Tears stung Chareos' eyes as he leapt through the doorway. Tanaki and Kiall followed.

The darkness closed around them.

In the tunnel Beltzer found his strength slowly fading. A dagger was jutting from his belly, and blood was pouring from a terrible wound in his upper left arm. The limb hung uselessly at his side and he knew the bone was smashed. Yet still he hefted the axe in his right hand, defying the warriors before him. The tunnel floor was slippery with blood, and the moans of the dying echoed around him.

Again they charged, forcing him back. A sword plunged into his side, breaking his ribs. His axe hammered back to smash a warrior from his feet. Blades licked out at his flesh, piercing him. He roared at the enemy and fell to his knees. They swarmed over him, but he surged up, scattering them. Blood was gushing from his throat and chest, and one eye was closed and bleeding.

The Nadir fell back again - but not in fear.

The giant was dying. No warrior needed to die now to clear the path. They stood, staring at the axeman, their dark eyes reflecting both hatred and respect.

'Had enough, have you?' croaked Beltzer, spitting blood from his mouth. 'You don't want old Beltzer's mountain? Come on? What are you afraid of? It's only . . . death.'

He looked up at the men before him and realised he was on his knees, his axe fallen from his hands. He tried to reach for it but the floor rose up to meet him and he lay quietly for a second or two, trying to gather his strength. Then his arm stretched towards the axe. It was too far away.

But it meant so much. A Nadir warrior knelt beside him, took the axe and placed it in Beltzer's hand.

Beltzer looked up at the man.

'Watch for me on the mountain,' he said.

The man nodded. The last breath rattled from Beltzer's throat and the Nadir rose and loped off down the tunnel, leaving Beltzer with the eighteen men he had killed.

*

The shock of Beyond brought a scream from Kiall. It was as if black ink had been poured into his eyes, penetrating his skull, covering his brain and his soul with a dark, dark shroud. On the verge of panic he felt Tanaki's hand gripping his, warm and alive.

Then a golden light grew, emanating softly from the hands of Asta Khan, and Kiall saw that they stood on a narrow pathway of shining silver. The light did not penetrate far into the blackness around them, and it seemed to Kiall that they stood in a spherical cave whose walls pressed down with the weight of worlds.

'Do not stray from the path,' whispered Asta. 'This is a place of consummate evil. Those who stray . . . die! No rescue. The only safe way is the Silver Path. Follow me.'

Asta moved carefully forward, Chien and Oshi following and behind them Harokas, Chareos, Kiall and Tanaki.

At first the journey was uneventful, but soon a sibilant whispering grew out of the darkness, closing in on them, and hundreds of shining eyes glinted from all around. The path was too narrow for Kiall to keep holding Tanaki's hand, but he kept glancing back to see her face, drawing strength from her presence.

To the right of the trail white wolves loped into view and sat staring at the travellers. They were monstrous beasts, as large as ponies.