David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

Beltzer snorted and turned over, his mouth open. Kiall saw that he had lost several teeth and that others were discoloured and bad. How could this fat old man ever have been the golden-haired hero of legend?

I should have stayed in the village, he told himself, and learned the apothecary's skills. At least then I would have been able to afford to take a wife, and build a home. But no, the dreamer had to have his way.

He heard the crunching of boots on the snow outside, and fear rose in him as he pictured the Nadren creeping up on them as they slept. He scrambled to his feet and dressed swiftly. Then he heard Maggrig's voice. Pulling on his boots, he dropped to his knees and eased himself out into the snow-covered clearing. The sky was a rich velvet blue, and the sun was just rising above the mountains to the east. Maggrig and Finn were skinning four white rabbits, the nearby snow spattered with blood.

'Good morning,' said Kiall. The younger man smiled and waved, but Finn ignored the villager. Kiall moved alongside them. 'You're out early,' he remarked.

'Early for some,' grunted Finn. 'Make yourself useful.' He tossed a rabbit to Kiall, who skinned it clumsily. Finn gathered up the entrails and threw them out into the bushes, then he scraped the fat from the furs and pushed them deep into his pack.

Kiall wiped his blood-covered hands on the snow and sat back on a rock. Finn's bow was resting against it and Kiall reached for it.

'Don't touch it!' snapped Finn.

Kiall's anger rose. 'You think I would steal it?'

'I don't much care — but don't touch it.'

Maggrig moved alongside Kiall. 'Don't take it to heart,' he said softly. 'No bowyer likes another man to touch his bow. It is… a superstition, I suppose. You see, each bow is made for one archer. It is designed for him alone. Finn makes his own bows. Even I am not allowed to use them.'

'No need to make excuses for me,' said Finn sourly.

Maggrig ignored him. 'When we get to the cabin,' he told Kiall, 'you will see many bows. Finn will probably give you one — a weapon to suit your length of arm and your pulling strength.'

'It would be no use,' said Kiall. 'I have no eye for archery.'

'Neither had I when I first met Finn. But it is amazing what a man can learn when he is paired with a master. Finn won every prize worth the taking. He even took the Lord Regent's talisman against the best archers of six lands: Drenai, Vagrians, Nadir, Ventrians, and even bowmen from Mashrapur. None could compete with Finn.'

'Not then or now,' muttered Finn, but his expression softened and he smiled. 'Don't mind me, boy,' he told Kiall. 'I don't like people much. But I don't wish you harm — and I hope you find your lady.'

'I am sorry you will not be travelling with us,' said Kiall.

Tm not. I have no wish to have my head shrunk on a pole, or my skin flayed outside a Nadir tent. My battle days are long gone. Quests and the like are for young men like you.'

'But Beltzer is coming,' Kiall reminded him.

Finn grunted. 'He never grew up, that one. But he's a good man in a scrap, right enough.'

'Chareos too,' said Maggrig softly.

'Yes,' agreed Finn. 'A strange man, Chareos. But you watch him, boy, and learn. His kind don't come around so often, if you catch my meaning.'

'I'm not sure that I do.'

'He's a man with iron principles. He knows the world is shades of grey, but he lives like it's black and white. There's a nobility in him — a gallantry, if you like. You'll see what I mean, come the finish. Now that's enough of talking. Wake your companions. If they want to break their fast, they'd better be up. I'll not wait for them.'

The snow held off for several days, but even so the travellers made slow progress across the peaks. On the fifth day Maggrig, leading the group, came too close to the lair of a snow leopard and her cubs. The leopard seemed to explode from the undergrowth, spitting and snarling. Maggrig was hurled from his feet, a jagged tear across one arm of his tunic. Beltzer and the others ran forward, shouting at the tops of their voices — but the animal crouched before them, ears flat to her skull and fangs bared. Finn dragged Maggrig clear and the travellers gave the beast a wide berth. Maggrig's arm was slashed, but not deeply, and the wound was stitched and bound by Finn.

On the following morning they reached the valley where the hunters' cabin was hidden. A blizzard blew up around them and they forced their way, heads bowed against the wind, to the frozen doorway. Snow had banked against it, blocking the door and filling the window-frame alongside. Beltzer cleared it, shovelling it aside with his huge hands. Inside was icy, but Finn got a fire going; it was more than an hour before the heat wanned the cabin.

That was good luck,' said Beltzer, finally stripping his bearskin jerkin and squatting on the rug beside the fire. 'That blizzard could have hit us days ago, and we'd have been trapped out in the mountains for weeks.'

'It may be lucky for you, dung-brain,' said Finn, 'but I do not relish my home being rilled with sweating bodies for days on end.'

Beltzer grinned at the black-bearded hunter. 'You're the least welcoming man I've ever known. Where do you keep the drink?'

'In the well outside. Where else?'

'I mean the ale, or the wine, or even the malt spirit?'

'We have none here.'

'None?' asked Beltzer, eyes widening. 'None at all?'

'Not a drop,' answered Maggrig, smiling. 'Now how lucky do you feel?' His face was white and sweat dripped into his eyes. He tried to stand, but sank back in his chair.

'What's the matter with you?' said Finn, rising and moving to the younger man.

Maggrig shrugged. 'I don't. . feel. .' He sagged sideways from the chair. Finn caught him and carried him to the bed, where Chareos joined him.

'He has a fever,' said Chareos, laying his hand on the hunter's brow. Maggrig's eyes opened.

'Room's going round. . thirsty…" Finn brought him a goblet of water and lifted his head while he drank.

Kiall cleared his throat. 'If you boil some water, I'll make a potion for him.'

Finn swung on him. 'What are you… a magician?'

'I was an apothecary's assistant, and I bought some herbs and powders back in Tavern Town.'

'Well, come and look at him, boy. Don't just stand there!' stormed Finn. Kiall moved to the bedside. First he examined the wound on Maggrig's temple; it had closed and healed well, but his master had always told him that blows to the head often shocked the system. Perhaps the second injury, caused by the leopard's attack, had caught the hunter in a weakened state. Trying to remember what Ulthen had told him of such wounds, he removed the bandage from Maggrig's arm; the cut was jagged and angry, but there was no pus or obvious sign of infection.

Kiall filled a small copper pot with water and hung it over the fire. Within a few minutes the contents were boiling. Then he opened his pack and took out a thick package, wrapped in oiled paper. Inside were a dozen smaller packages, each decorated with a hand-drawn leaf or flower. Kiall selected two of the packets and opened them. Bruising the leaves, he dropped them into the water and stirred the brew with a spoon. Then lifting the pot from the fire, he laid it in the hearth to cool.

'Smells fine,' said Beltzer.

'How would you know?' hissed Finn. 'What have you made there, boy?'

'It's a potion from willow leaves and comfrey. Both are good for fighting fevers, but the comfrey helps to clean the blood and give strength to a sick man.'

'What else is it good for?' asked Beltzer.

'It helps to heal bones and reduce swellings, and stops diarrhoea. It has also — so my master told me — been used to prevent gangrene in wounds. Oh yes… it is good for rheumatic pain too.'