David Gemmell - The Legend of the Deathwalker

The mare's head came up, nostrils quivering, and she quickened her pace. 'There is water, right enough,' said Sieben. 'The horses can smell it.'

They climbed the narrow, twisting trail, and as they reached the crest two ancient Nadir warriors stepped out ahead of them. Both were carrying swords. A small priest in robes of faded blue appeared and he spoke to the old men, who grudgingly backed away. Druss rode on, dismounting by the spring and casting a wary eye over the group of Nadir sitting close by.

The priest approached him. 'You are welcome at our camp, axeman,' he said. The man's eyes were blind, their pupils of smoky opal. Laying Snaga against a rock, Druss took the baby from Sieben and waited as the poet swung down.

'This child needs milk,' said Druss. The priest called out a name and a young woman came forward, moving hesitantly. Taking the child from Druss, she walked back to the group.

'They are survivors from a Gothir raid,' said the priest. 'I am Enshima, a Priest of the Source.'

'Druss,' said the axeman. 'And this is Sieben. We are travelling. .'

'To the Shrine of Oshikai,' said Enshima. 'I know. Come, sit with me for a while.' He walked away to a cluster of rocks by the spring. Druss followed him, while Sieben watered the horses and refilled their canteens.

'A great battle will be fought at the Shrine,' said Enshima. 'You know this.'

Druss sat down beside him. 'I know. It does not interest me.'

'Ah, but it does, for your own quest is linked to it. You will not find the jewels before the battle begins, Druss.'

The axeman knelt by the spring and drank. The water was cool and refreshing, but it left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Looking up at the blind man, he said, 'You are a seer?'

'For what it is worth,' agreed Enshima.

'Then can you tell me what this damned war is about? I see no sense in it.'

Enshima gave a rueful smile. 'That question presupposes there is sense to any war.'

'I am not a philosopher, priest, so spare me your ruminations.'

'No, Druss, you are not a philosopher,' said Enshima amiably, 'but you are an idealist. What is this war about? As with all wars it is about greed and fear; greed in that the Gothir are rich and desire to stay that way, and fear in that they see the Nadir as a future threat to their wealth and position. When has a war been fought over anything else?'

'These jewels exist, then,' said Druss, changing the subject.

'Oh, they exist. The Eyes of Alchazzar were crafted several hundred years ago. They are like amethysts, each as big as an egg, and each imbued with the awesome power of this savage land.'

'Why will I not find them before the battle?' asked Druss, as Sieben came up and sat alongside.

'Such is not your destiny.'

'I have a friend in need of them,' said Druss. 'I would appreciate your help in this matter.'

Enshima smiled. 'It gives me no pleasure to withhold help from you, axeman. But what you would ask of me I shall not give you. Tomorrow I will lead these people deep into the mountains, in the hope — vain though it may be — that I can keep them alive. You will journey to the Shrine, and there you will fight. For that is what you do best.'

'You have any bright words of comfort for me, old man?' asked Sieben.

The old man smiled and, reaching out, patted Sieben's arm. 'I was set a problem, and you helped solve it, for which my thanks. What you did, back in the death chamber, was a pure and good act, for which I hope the Source blesses you. Show me the lon-tsia.' Sieben fished into his pocket and produced the heavy silver medallion. The old man held it up before his face and closed his wood-smoke eyes. 'The male head is that of Oshikai Demon-bane, the female that of his wife, Shul-sen. The script is Chiatze. A literal translation would be Oshka-Shul-sen — together . But it really means spirit-entwined . Their love was very great.'

'Why would anyone want to torture her so?' asked Sieben.

'I cannot answer that, young man. The ways of evil men are lost to me; I have no understanding of such barbarity. Great magic was used, in order to cage Shul-sen's spirit.'

'Did I free her?'

'I do not know. A Nadir warrior told me that the spirit of Oshikai has been searching for her through the endless dark valleys of the Void. Perhaps now he has found her. I hope so. But as I said, the spells were very great.'

Enshima returned the lon-tsia to Sieben. 'This too has had a spell cast upon it,' he said.

'Not a curse, I hope,' said the poet, holding the medallion gingerly.

'No, not a curse. I think it was a Hide-spell. It would have masked it from the eyes of men. It is quite safe to carry, Sieben.'

'Good. Tell me — you said the man was Oshikai, and yet the name upon it is Oshka. Is that a short form?'

'There is no i in the Chiatze alphabet. It is written as a small curved stroke above the preceding letter.'

Sieben pocketed the medallion and Enshima rose. 'May the Source guard you both,' he said.

Druss strode away and mounted the mare. 'We leave you the two ponies,' he said.

'That is most kind.'

Sieben paused beside the old man. 'How many defenders at the Shrine?'

'I expect there will be fewer than two hundred when the Gothir arrive.'

'And the jewels are there?'

'Indeed they are.'

Sieben swore, then he smiled sheepishly. 'I was rather hoping they weren't. I am not at my best in battles.'

'No civilized man is,' said the priest.

'So why are the jewels hidden there?' asked Sieben.

Enshima shrugged. 'They were crafted several hundred years ago, and set in the head of a stone wolf. A shaman stole them. Obviously he wanted the power for himself. He was hunted and hid the jewels, then he tried to escape over the mountains. But he was caught, tortured and killed near where you found the bones of Shul-sen. He did not reveal the hiding-place of the Eyes.'

'The story makes no sense,' said Sieben. 'If the jewels were imbued with great power, why did he leave them behind? Surely he could have used their power against his pursuers?'

'Do the deeds of men always, as you say, make sense?' countered the priest.

'After a fashion,' argued Sieben. 'What kind of power did the Eyes possess?'

'That is difficult to say. Much would depend on the skill of the man using them. They could heal all wounds, and breach any spell. They were said to have powers of regeneration and replication.'

'Could their power have hidden him from his pursuers?'

'Yes.'

'Then why did he not use it?'

'I am afraid, young man, that will remain a mystery.'

'I hate mysteries,' said Sieben. 'You said regeneration. They could raise the dead?'

'I meant regeneration of tissue — as in deep wounds, or diseases. It was said that an old warrior became young again after being healed by them. But I think that is a fanciful tale.'

Druss pushed himself to his feet. 'Time to move on, poet,' he said.

A young Nadir woman approached them, carrying the baby. Silently she offered it to Sieben. The poet stepped back. 'No, no, my dear,' he said. 'Fond as we are of the little tyke, I think he is better off here, with his own people.'

Talisman walked along the narrow wooden ramparts of the north wall, testing the strength of the structure, examining the ancient beams that held them in place. They seemed solid. The parapets were crenellated, allowing for archers to shoot through the gaps. But each Nadir warrior carried only about twenty arrows, and these would be exhausted by the end of the first charge. The enemy would be loosing shafts, and these could be gathered. Even so, this would not be a battle won by archery. Gazing around, he saw Kzun directing building operations below the broken wall. A solid fighting platform had been constructed there. The Lone Wolves leader was still sporting the white scarf Zhusai had given him. Kzun saw him watching, but did not wave. Quing-chin was working with a team on the gates, smearing animal fat to the hinges, trying to free them. How long since they have been closed, Talisman wondered. Ten years? A hundred?