David Gemmell - The Legend of the Deathwalker

'For a time,' said Talisman. 'Much depends on how many ladders the enemy have. If they are well equipped, they will sweep over us.'

'A thousand curses on all of them,' hissed Gorkai.

Talisman grinned. 'They will not have enough ladders. They would not have expected a siege. And there are no trees to hack down here to make them. We have close to two hundred men now, fifty per wall should they try to attack on all sides. We will hold them, Gorkai — at least for some days.'

'And then what?'

'We live or die,' answered Talisman, with a weary shrug.

Far away to the south-west the sky began to glow a dull, flickering red. 'What is that?' asked Gorkai.

'With luck it is the enemy camp burning,' said Talisman grimly. 'It will not slow them overmuch, but it will rob them of their complacency.*

'I hope many die.'

'Why do you stay?' asked Talisman.

Gorkai looked puzzled. 'What do you mean? Where else would I be? I am Wolfshead now, Talisman. You are my leader.'

'I may have led you to a path of no returning, Gorkai.'

'All paths lead to death, Talisman. But here I am at one with the Gods of Stone and Water. I am Nadir again, and that has meaning.'

'Indeed it does. And I tell you this, my friend, it will have more meaning in the years to come. When the Uniter leads his armies the world will tremble at the sound of the name Nadir.'

'That is a pleasant thought to take to my bed,' said Gorkai, with a smile.

Just then both men saw the figure of Zhusai emerge from the sleeping quarters. She was dressed only in a shift of white linen and she walked slowly, dreamily, towards the gates. Talisman ran down the steps, closely followed by Gorkai, and they caught up with her on the open steppes. Gently Talisman took her by the arm. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking. 'Where is my Lord?' she asked.

'Zhusai? What is wrong?' whispered Talisman.

'I am lost,' she said. 'Why is my spirit chained in the Dark Place?' A tear formed and fell to her cheek. Talisman took her in his arms and kissed her brow.

'Who speaks?' said Gorkai, taking Zhusai's hand.

'Do you know my Lord?' she asked him.

'Who are you?' asked Gorkai. Talisman released his hold and turned towards the warrior. Gorkai gestured him to silence and stepped before the woman. 'Tell me your name,' he said.

'I am Shul-sen, the wife of Oshikai. Can you help me?'

Gorkai took her hand and kissed it. 'What help do you require, my Lady?'

'Where is my Lord?'

'He is. .' Gorkai fell silent and looked to Talisman.

'He is not here,' said Talisman. 'Do you recall how you came here?'

'I was blind,' she said, 'but now I can see, and hear and speak.' Slowly she looked around. 'I think I know this valley,' she said, 'but I do not remember the buildings here. I tried to leave the Dark Place, but there are demons there. My spells have no effect. The power is gone and I cannot leave.'

'And yet you have,' said Gorkai. 'You are here.'

'I do not understand,' she said. 'Am I dreaming? Someone called me, and I awoke here. These clothes are not mine. And where is my lon-tsia? Where are my rings?'

Suddenly she jerked as if struck. 'No!' she cried. 'It is drawing me back. Help me! I cannot abide the Dark Place!' Wildly she reached out, grabbing Talisman's arm, then she went limp and fell against him. Her eyelids fluttered and Zhusai looked up at Talisman. 'What is happening, Talisman?' she asked.

'What do you remember?'

'I was dreaming. You remember? The woman in the cave? She was walking hand-in-hand with a man. Then the sun died away, and walls of black rock formed around us. . her. All light faded until the darkness was absolute. The man was gone. I. . she. . tried to find a door in the rock, but there was none. And there were moans and snarls coming from close by. That is all I can remember. Am I going mad, Talisman?'

'I do not think so, my Lady,' said Gorkai softly. 'Tell me, have you ever seen visions?'

'No.'

'Have you ever heard voices, though there was no-one near?'

'No. What are you saying?'

'I believe the spirit of Shul-sen is somehow drawn to you. I don't know why. But I do know you are not insane. I have seen spirits, and spoken with them. It was the same with my father. What we have just experienced here was no dream-walking. Your voice was different, as was your manner. You agree. Talisman?'

'This is beyond my understanding,' admitted the Nadir leader. 'What must we do?'

'I do not know what we can do,' said Gorkai. 'You told me that Oshikai is searching for his wife, and now we know that Shul-sen is also seeking him. But their world is not ours, Talisman. We cannot bring them together."

The moon vanished behind a bank of clouds, plunging the steppes to darkness. A man cried out in the distance, and Talisman saw a light hastily struck, and a lantern flickered to life outside the tent of Kzun.

The blind Nadir priest, Enshima, sat silently on the edge of the rocks overlooking the steppes below. Behind him, at the hidden spring, some two dozen refugees — mostly older women and young children — sat forlornly in the shade. He had seen the distant fire in the night, and felt the passing of souls into the Void. The priest's pale blue robes were dust-stained, and his feet were sore and bleeding from walking upon the sharp, volcanic rock that blighted this area of the mountains.

Silently Enshima offered up a prayer of thanks for the ragged band of Curved Horn who had reached the spring two days before. They had been part of a larger group attacked by Gothir Lancers, but had managed to flee to higher ground where the heavily armed horsemen could not follow. Now they were safe for the moment. Hungry, bereaved, desolated, but safe. Enshima thanked the Source for their lives.

Releasing the chains of his spirit Enshima soared high above the mountains, gazing down on the vast emptiness of the steppes. Twelve miles to the north-west he could see the tiny battlements of the Shrine, but he did not fly there. Instead he scanned the land for the two riders he knew would soon be approaching the spring.

He saw them riding out of a gully some two miles from the rocks in which his body sat. The axeman was leading two horses while the poet, Sieben, rode at the rear, carrying the babe wrapped in its red blanket. Floating closer to the lead rider, he looked closely at the man. Riding a sway-backed mare, he was dressed in a jerkin of black leather with shining silver shoulder-guards, and carrying a huge, double-headed axe.

The route they were taking would lead them past the hidden spring. Enshima floated closer to the poet. Reaching out with his spirit hand, he touched the rider's shoulder.

'Hey, Druss,' said Sieben. 'You think there might be water in those rocks?'

'We don't need it,' said the axeman. 'According to Nuang the Shrine should be no more than around ten miles from here.'

'That may be true, old horse, but the child's blanket is beginning to stink. And I would appreciate the opportunity to wash some of my clothes before we make our grand entrance.'

Druss chuckled. 'Aye, poet, it would not be seemly for you to arrive looking any less than your glorious best.' Tugging the reins to the left, Druss angled towards the dark, volcanic rocks.

Sieben rode alongside him. 'How will you find these healing jewels?' he asked.

The axeman pondered the question. 'I expect they are in the coffin,' he said. 'That would be usual, would it not?'

'It is an old shrine. I would think it would have been pillaged by now.'

Druss was silent for a moment, then he shrugged. 'Well, the old shaman said they were there. I'll ask him about it when I see him.'

Sieben gave a wry grin. 'I wish I had your faith in human nature, Druss, my friend.'