David Gemmell - Waylander III - Hero In The Shadows

'This is for Matze Chai,' said Waylander. 'Now rot in Hell!'

Panagyn toppled to the ground. Putting his foot on the dead man's chest, Waylander tore his sword loose and cleaned the blade on Panagyn's embroidered tunic.

Stepping back, he turned towards the horses – and stopped.

Niallad was sitting very still, the crossbow pointed at Waylander. 'He called you by a name, Grey Man,' said the boy, his face pale. 'It is an old word meaning stranger or foreigner. Tell me that is all he meant. Tell me that you are not the traitor who killed my uncle.'

'Put up that weapon, boy,' said Emrin. 'He is the man who saved your life.'

'Tell me!' shouted Niallad.

'What is it you want to hear?' asked Waylander.

'I want the truth.'

'The truth? All right, I'll tell you the truth. Yes, I am Waylander the Slayer and, yes, I did kill the king. I killed him for money. It is a deed that has haunted me all my life since. There is no way to make amends when you kill the wrong man. So, if you want to use that weapon on me, do so. It is your right!'

Waylander stood very still and stared at the crossbow in the youth's hand. This was the weapon he had used to kill the king, the crossbow which had sent so many to their death. In that frozen moment of time Waylander thought how fitting it would be to be killed by this weapon, loosed by the only blood relative of the innocent king whose murder had plunged the world into chaos. He relaxed and waited.

At that moment the wind changed. Ustarte had moved closer and her scent drifted across the nostrils of Niallad's horse. It reared. Niallad was thrown back in the saddle. His hand involuntarily squeezed the bronze trigger of the crossbow. The bolt slammed into Waylander's chest. He half turned, took three faltering steps then fell to the grass close to the body of Panagyn.

Ustarte reached his side first, turning him and pulling the bolt clear.

'I didn't mean to shoot!' said Niallad.

Keeva and Emrin dismounted and ran towards the fallen man. Ustarte waved them back. 'Leave him to me,' said Ustarte. Putting her arms beneath the unconscious Waylander, she lifted him with ease and carried him into the forest.

When he opened his eyes he was lying on a bed of leaves. Ustarte was squatting beside him. Waylander's hand went to his chest. 'I thought he had killed me,' he said.

'He did,' Ustarte told him, her voice heavy with sadness.

Kysumu stared out over the ruins of Kuan-Hador. The sun was setting, and the plain below seemed immensely peaceful. Moving away from the warriors of the Riaj-nor, he squatted down and drew his sword. A great sadness was upon him. It lay like a boulder on his heart.

He remembered his teacher Mu Cheng, the Eye of the Storm, and the long years of training. Mu Cheng had tried, with great patience, to show Kysumu the secrets of the Way of the Sword, how to release control and become a living weapon. The sword, Mu Cheng had said, is not an extension of the man. The man must become the extension of the sword. No emotion, no fear, no excitement. Calm, and in harmony, the Rajnee did his duty, no matter the cost. Kysumu had tried. He had struggled with every fibre of his being to master the Way. His swordsmanship was beyond excellent, but it could not reach the sublime skill shown by Mu Cheng. 'It will come one day,' Mu Cheng had told him. 'And on that day you will be the perfect Rajnee.'

Two years later Kysumu had accepted the role of bodyguard to the merchant Lu Fang. He soon discovered why Lu Fang needed a Rajnee bodyguard: the man was amoral to the point of evil. His ventures included forced prostitution, slavery, and the distribution of deadly narcotics. Upon learning this, Kysumu had climbed the stairs to Lu Fang's apartments and informed him that he could no longer be his bodyguard.

Lu Fang had railed at him. 'You gave me your promise, Rajnee,' he said. 'And now you will leave me unprotected?'

'I will stay until noon tomorrow,' Kysumu told him. 'You will send your servants out in the morning to find other protectors. Then I leave.'

Lu Fang had cursed him, but the curses were just empty sounds to the young Rajnee. There was no honour to be gained in defending a man like Lu Fang. He walked from the apartments to the balcony beyond. Two hooded and masked figures were stealthily climbing the stairs. Kysumu moved to block them, his sword raised. Both men hesitated. 'Leave now,' said Kysumu, 'and you live.'

The men glanced at one another. Both carried thin-bladed daggers, but neither had a sword. They backed down the stairs, Kysumu following them. As they reached the last step they turned and ran.

Another figure moved into sight.

It was Mu Cheng.

As Kysumu stood now, overlooking the Eiden Plain, and the ghostly ruins of the ancient city, he remembered his shock at the condition of his former master. Mu Cheng's eyes had been red-rimmed, and there was stubble upon his cheeks. His robes were dirty, but the sword he held was clean. It shone brightly in the lantern-light.

'Step aside, pupil,' said Mu Cheng. 'The villain will die tonight.'

'I have told him I can no longer serve him,' said Kysumu. 'I leave him at noon tomorrow.'

'I have promised he will die tonight. Step aside.'

'I cannot, master. You know this. Until noon I am his Rajnee.'

'Then I cannot save you,' said Mu Cheng. The attack was incredibly swift. Kysumu barely blocked it. The two swordsmen had then engaged in a blisteringly fast series of encounters. Kysumu could never recall quite when it happened. But somewhere within that fight he had discovered the Way of the Sword. He had relinquished control. His blade moved faster and faster, casting bewildering patterns of light in the air. Mu Cheng had been forced back until, at the last, Kysumu's sword cut through his chest. The Eye of the Storm died without a word. His sword fell to the carpeted floor, the blade shattering into a hundred shards.

Kysumu stared down at the dead face of a man he had loved.

The voice of Lu Fang came from the balcony above. 'Are they dead? Are they gone?'

'They are gone,' said Kysumu, striding from the house.

Two days later Lu Fang had been stabbed to death in a market square.

Now Kysumu looked back and wondered just why he had longed to be a Rajnee. Around him he could hear the coarse, gutter language of the Riaj-nor. What a fool I have been, he thought. Everything I was taught was based on lies. I have wasted my life trying to be as great as the original heroes of legend. And now I find they are part beast, part man, and have no honour in them.

Yu Yu Liang approached, squatting down beside him. 'They will come, you think, the demons?' he asked.

'They will come.'

'You are still sad?'

Kysumu nodded.

'I've been thinking about what you said, Kysumu. I think you are wrong.'

'Wrong?' Kysumu gestured towards the warriors. 'You believe they are great and mystic heroes?'

'I don't know. But I was talking to Song Xiu, and he was saying that the meld affects the body in a number of ways. One of them is that no Riaj-nor can sire children.'

'What is your point, Yu Yu?' snapped Kysumu.

'Whatever you think of them they did defeat the enemy. But once they were all dead – of old age or whatever – who could replace them? Ordinary men did not have the strength or the speed. So the elders had to find special men. Men like you, Kysumu. It is not about a lie. It is not about trickery. It doesn't matter that the original warriors were Joinings. The order of the Rajnee has always been . . . pure. That is why they have inspired our people for centuries. I know I am not putting this well. I am no debater. You were raised to believe in stories about a great warrior people. Well, they are great warriors. They did fight and die for us. You were then taught to believe in the Rajnee code. It is a good code. You do not swear, you do not lie, you do not steal, you do not cheat. You fight for what you believe in, and never give in to evil. What is wrong with that?'