David Gemmell - The Legend of the Deathwalker

Quing-chin darted forward to feint a cut to the throat. The Sky Rider's sword swept across to block but his speed betrayed him. The block was too fast. Quing-chin's blade plunged into the man's upper chest, but at the moment of impact the Sky Rider hurled himself backwards so that Quing-chin's sword penetrated no more than two inches before the blade was ripped clear. The Sky Rider fell, rolled and staggered to his feet.

'You are very skilled,' he said. 'I shall be proud to add your head to my tree.' His left arm was hanging useless now, blood streaming over his hand and dripping to the ground. In that instant Quing-chin experienced a moment of regret. Shanqui had been an arrogant, boastful young man, who had challenged this warrior and had died for it. And now, according to Nadir custom, Quing-chin would send this man's soul to serve him for eternity. He sighed.

'I too feel pride,' he said. 'You are a man among men. I salute you, Sky Rider.'

The Sky Rider nodded. . then ran forward into the attack. Quing-chin swayed aside from the desperate thrust, slamming his own blade into the man's belly and up through the heart. The Sky Rider fell against him, his head falling to Quing-chin's shoulder as the dying man's knees gave way. Quing-chin caught him as he fell and lowered him to the ground. With a shuddering sigh the Sky Rider died.

This was the moment. Kneeling beside the body, Quing-chin drew his knife. The two lines of riders waited, but Quing-chin rose. 'I will not take this man's eyes,' he said. 'Let his friends bear him away for burial.'

Shi-da leapt from his pony and ran to him. 'You must, brother! Shanqui must have the eyes in his hand, or he will have no servant in the Netherworld!'

A Sky Rider nudged his pony forward, then dismounted alongside Quing-chin. 'You fought well, Dalsh-chin,' he said.

The Fleet Ponies warrior turned at the sound of his childhood name, and looked into the sorrowful eyes of the Sky Rider. Lin-tse had changed little in the two years since they had left the Bodacas Academy; he was broader in the shoulder now, and his head had been shaved clean save for a short braid of dark hair at the crown. 'It is good to see you again, Lin-tse,' he said. 'It saddens me that it should be on such an occasion.'

'You talk like a Gothir,' said Lin-tse. 'Tomorrow I will come to your camp. And when I have killed you I will take your eyes, and give them to my brother. You will serve him until the stars are ground to dust.'

Back at his own tent, Quing-chin stripped off his bloodstained jerkin and knelt upon the ground. In the two years since he had left the Bodacas Academy he had fought to re-establish his Nadir roots, aware that his own people felt he was somehow tainted by his years among the Gothir. He had denied it, even to himself, but today he knew that it was true.

Outside he heard the riders returning with the head of Shanqui, but he remained in the tent, his thoughts sombre. The rituals of the revenge-duel differed from tribe to tribe, but the principles remained the same. Had he cut out the eyes of the Sky Rider and placed them in the dead hand of Shanqui, then the spirit of the Sky Rider would have been bonded to Shanqui for eternity. The belief was that the Sky Rider would be blind in the Void, unless Shanqui loaned him the use of his eyes. This would ensure obedience. Now Quing-chin had broken the ritual. And to what purpose? Tomorrow he must fight again. If he won, another warrior would challenge him.

His friend Shi-da entered the tent, and squatted down before him. 'You fought bravely,' said Shi-da. 'It was a good fight. But tomorrow you must take the eyes.'

'The eyes of Lin-tse,' whispered Quing-chin. 'The eyes of one who was my friend? I cannot do this.'

'What is wrong with you, my brother? These are our enemies!'

Quing-chin rose. 'I shall go to the Shrine. I need to think.'

Leaving Shi-da, he ducked under the tent-flap and stepped out into the sunshine. The body of Shanqui, wrapped in hide, had been left within yards of his tent. The right hand of the corpse had been left exposed, the fingers clawed and open. Striding to his dappled pony, Quing-chin mounted and rode to the white-walled Shrine. In what way did they poison my Nadir spirit, he wondered? Was it the books, the manuscripts, the paintings? Or perhaps the teachings concerning morality, or the endless discussions on philosophy? How can I know?

The gates were open and Quing-chin rode inside and dismounted. Leaving his pony in the shade, he strode towards the Shrine.

'We shall make them suffer, as Zhen-shi suffered,' said a voice. Quing-chin froze. Slowly he turned towards the speaker.

Talisman stepped from the shadows and approached the taller man. 'It is good to see you again, my friend,' he said.

Quing-chin said nothing for a moment, then he gripped Talisman's outstretched hand. 'You gladden my heart, Okai. All is well with you?'

'Well enough. Come, share water and bread with me.'

The two men strolled back to the shade, where they sat beneath a wooden awning. Filling two clay cups with cool water from a stone jug, Talisman passed one to Quing-chin. 'What happened in the fight this morning?' he asked. 'There was so much dust I could see nothing from the walls.'

'A Sky Rider died,' said Quing-chin.

'When will such madness end?' asked Talisman sadly. 'When will our eyes be opened to the real enemy?'

'Not soon enough, Okai. Tomorrow I fight again.' He looked into Talisman's eyes. 'Against Lin-tse.'

Lin-tse sat on a rock sharpening his sword, his face impassive and his anger masked. Of all the men in the world, the lastàhe wished to kill was Dalsh-chin. Yet such was his fate, and a true man never whined when the Gods of Stone and Water twisted the knife! The whetstone slid along the sabre's edge and Lin-tse imagined the silver steel blade slicing through Dalsh-chinçs neck. He swore softly, then stood and stretched his back.

At the last there had only been four Nadir janizaries at the Academy — himselfì Dalsh-chin, the miserable Green Monkey boy, Zhen-shi, and the strange one from the Wolfshead, Okaiî Some of the others had fled, most had simply failed their examinations miserably — much to the delight of Gargan, Lord Larness. One had been hanged after killing an officer; another had committed suicide. The experiment — as Lord Larness intended — had been a failure. Yet much to the Gothir general's chagrin four Nadir youngsters had consistently passed the examinations. And one — Okai — excelled above all other students including the general's own son, Argo.

Lin-tse scabbarded his sword and walked out on to the steppes. His thoughts turned to Zhen-shi, with his frightened eyes and his nervous smile. Tormented and abused, he had fawned around the Gothir cadets, especially Argo, serving him like a slave. 'Grinning Monkey', Argo called him and Lin-tse had despised the youth for his cowardice. Zhen-shi carried few scars, but then he was everything the Gothir boys had been taught to expect of a barbarian — subservient and inferior to the civilized races.

Yet he had made a mistake — and it had cost him his life. In the end-of-year examinations he had outscored all but Okai. Lin-tse still remembered the look on Zhen-shi's face when the results were announced. At first his delight was obvious but then, as he gazed at Argo and the others, the full horror of his plight dawned on him. Grinning Monkey had beaten them all. No longer did they see him as an object of scorn or derision. Now he became a figure of hate. Little Zhen-shi had withered under their malevolent gazes.

That night Zhen-shi had plunged from the roof, his body crushed to pulp on the snow-covered cobbles below.

It was winter, the night harsh and cold, ice forming on the insides of the glass windows. Yet Zhen-shi had been dressed only in a loincloth. Hearing the scream as he fell, Lin-tse had looked out of the window and saw his scrawny body leaking blood to the snow. He and Okai had run out with scores of other boys, and stood over the corpse. The body bore the red weals of a lash on the back, buttocks and thighs. The wrists were also bleeding.