David Gemmell - The Legend of the Deathwalker

'You are not strong man,' she said, sadness in her voice. 'You are frightened man. Many women is easy. Make children is easy. Life with them, help to raise them, that is hard. Watch babies die. . that is hard. I have had two husbands. Both die. Both good men. Strong. My third will be also strong. Many babies, so some will survive.'

Sieben gave a wry smile. 'I tend towards the belief that life holds more than making strong babies. I live for pleasure, for sudden bursts of joy. For surprises. There are enough people making babies and eking out their boring lives in the harshness of deserts, or the green splendour of mountains. The world will not miss my children.'

She considered his words thoughtfully. 'My people came over the tall mountains with Oshikai. They made babies, who grew proud and strong. They gave their blood to the land, and the land nurtured their young. For a thousand years. Now there is me. I owe it to my ancestors to bring life to the land, so that in a thousand years to come there will be those with the blood of Niobe and her ancestors. You are good lover, po-et. You bring many joy-trembles in your love-making. But joy-trembles are easy; I can do that for myself. I feel great love for you. But I will not wed frightened man. I have seen strong warrior of the Curved Horn. He has no wife. I think I will go to him.'

Sieben felt her words hit him like a blow to the belly. But he forced a smile. 'Of course, lovely one. You go and make babies.'

'You want shirt back?'

'No. It suits you. You look. . very fine.'

Without a word she left him there. Sieben shivered as a cold breeze touched his bare skin. What am I doing here, he wondered? A Nadir warrior with short hair and a pronounced widow's peak climbed to the ramparts and, ignoring Sieben, stood staring out to the west.

'A pleasant night,' remarked Sieben.

The man turned and stared at him. 'It will be a long night,' he said, his voice deep and cold.

Sieben saw a candle-flame flickering through the window of the Shrine. 'Still searching,' he said.

'Not searching,' said the man. 'My Lord, Talisman, and your friend are journeying to Giragast.'

'I fear something has been lost in the translation,' said Sieben. 'Giragast isn't a place, it is a myth.'

'It is a place,' said the man stubbornly. 'Their bodies are lying on the cold floor, their souls have gone to Giragast.'

Sieben's mouth was suddenly dry. 'Are you saying they are dead?'

'No, but they are going to the place of the dead. I do not think they will come back.'

Sieben left the man and ran to the Shrine. As the Nadir had said, Druss and Talisman were lying side by side on the dusty floor. The shaman, Nosta Khan, was sitting beside them. On top of the stone coffin was a lighted candle, marked with seven lines of black ink.

'What is happening?' he asked the shaman.

'They go with Oshikai to rescue the witch, Shul-sen,' whispered Nosta Khan.

'Into the Void?'

'Beyond the Void.' Nosta Khan glanced up at him, his eyes dark and malevolent. 'I saw you scatter the parchment to the winds. Did you also throw the knuckle-bones into the well?'

'Yes. And I burnt the hair and buried the pouch.'

'You gajin are soft and weak. Shaoshad deserved his punishment.'

'He wanted to bring Oshikai and Shul-sen back to life, to unite the Nadir,' said Sieben. 'That does not seem so terrible a crime.'

Nosta Khan shook his head. 'He wanted power, and fame. Oh, he could have raised the body, and perhaps even infused it with the soul of Oshikai. But the body would have needed the magic of jewels constantly; he would have been a slave to Shaoshad. Now, thanks to his arrogance, we have no jewels and the power of the land is lost to us. And gajin like you treat us as vermin. His lust for power sentenced us to five hundred years of servitude. He should have been left to rot for eternity.'

Sieben sat down alongside the shaman. 'Not a forgiving people, are you?'

Nosta Khan gave a rare smile. 'Our babies die in childbirth. Our men are hunted down like animals. Our villages are burnt, our people slaughtered. Why for should we forgive?'

'So what is the answer, old man? For the Nadir to mass into a huge army and hunt down the gajin like animals, burning their villages and towns, and slaughtering their women and children?'

'Yes! That is how it will begin. Until we have conquered the world, and enslaved every race.'

'Then you will be no different from the gajin you despise. Is that not so?'

'We do not seek to be different,' replied Nosta Khan. 'We seek to be triumphant.'

'A charmingly honest point of view,' "said the poet. 'Tell me, why are they travelling through the Void?'

'Honour,' said Nosta Khan admiringly. 'Talisman is a great man. Were he destined to live he would make a fine general for the Uniter.'

'He is going to die?'

'Yes,' said Nosta Khan sadly. 'I have walked the many futures but he is in none of them. Now be silent, for I have much work to do.'

From his pouch Nosta Khan removed two small, dry leaves, which he placed under his tongue. Raising his hands, bony fingers spread wide, he closed his eyes. The bodies of Druss and Talisman began to glow, radiating lights of many colours — purple around the heart, bright white pulsing from their heads, red from the lower torso, white and yellow from the legs. It was an extraordinary sight. Sieben remained silent until Nosta Khan sighed and opened his eyes.

'What did you do to them?' whispered the poet.

'Nothing,' answered Nosta Khan. 'I have merely made their life force visible. He is a powerful man, this Druss. See how the energy of his zhi dwarfs that of Talisman? And Talisman is greater than most men.' Sieben gazed at the glowing figures. It was true. The radiance around Druss extended to almost three feet, while Talisman's flickered no more than a foot from his torso.

'What is this. . zhi ? asked Sieben.

Nosta Khan was silent for a moment. 'No man fully understands the mystery,' he said. 'The energy flows around the human body, bringing life and health. It flickers and changes when disease strikes. I have seen old men with the rheumatic in their arms where the zhi no longer flows. And I have seen mystic healers transfuse their own zhi into the sick, making them healthy again. It is connected in some way to the soul. After death, for example, the zhi flares to five times its size. This happens for three days. Then, in a heartbeat, it is gone.'

'But why have you chosen to make it visible?'

'Their souls have gone to a place of untold dangers, where they will be fighting demons. Each cut they take, each wound they suffer, will affect the zhi . I will watch, and when they come close to death I hope to be able to draw them back.'

'You mean you are not certain of your ability to do this?'

'In Giragast there is no certainty,' snapped Nosta Khan. 'Imagine a fight here. A soldier is wounded in the arm; he suffers, but lives. Another man is struck to the heart; he dies instantly. Such can happen in the Void. I can see the wounds they suffer there. But a death blow will extinguish the zhi in an instant.'

'But you said the zhi flares for three days after death,' Sieben pointed out.

'That is when the soul is within the body. Theirs are not.'

The two men lapsed into silence. For several minutes nothing happened, then Talisman's body jerked. The bright colours around him flickered, and a green glow showed on his right leg. 'It has begun,' said Nosta Khan.

An hour passed, the candle-flame burning down to the first of the black lines marked upon its shaft. Sieben found the tension hard to bear. Rising, he went outside to the eastern wall where he had left his saddle-bags. Pulling out a fresh shirt of white linen, embroidered with gold thread, he donned it. Talisman's servant, Gorkai, approached him. 'Do they still live?' he asked.