David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

'You are a romantic,' stated Chareos.

'Is that bad?'

'No, it is the best way to live. I felt that way once — and I was never happier.' Chareos stood and stretched his back. 'Hold on to your dreams, Kiall. They are more important than you realise.'

'I shall. Tell me, do you like Beltzer?'

Chareos laughed aloud and the sound, rich and full of good humour, echoed in the valley. 'No one likes Beltzer,' he said. 'Least of all Beltzer.'

Then why do you have him with you? Why did Finn buy his axe?'

'You are the dreamer, Kiall. You tell me.'

'I don't know. I can't imagine. He is so gross; his speech is vile, and he doesn't understand friendship or loyalty.'

Chareos shook his head. 'Don't judge him by his words, my friend. If I was standing alone down there in the valley, surrounded by a hundred Nadir warriors, and I called his name, he would come running. He would do the same for Finn, or Maggrig.'

'I find that hard to believe,' said Kiall.

'Let us hope you never see the proof of it.'

At dawn the next morning the questors moved north into the shadowed pine woods, following a deer trail that wound down to a shallow stream. This they waded across, climbing a short, steep slope to a clearing beyond. The wind gusted and an eerie, high-pitched scream echoed around them. Finn and Maggrig leapt from the trail, vanishing into the undergrowth. Beltzer lifted his axe from the sheath at his side, spat upon his hands, and waited. Chareos stood unmoving, hand on sword-hilt.

Kiall found his limbs trembling and suppressed the urge to turn and sprint from the clearing. The scream came again, an ululating howl that chilled the blood. Chareos walked on, Beltzer following. Sweat dripping into his eyes, Kiall could not bring himself to move. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself forward.

At the centre of the clearing, some fifty paces away, stood a huge stone edifice and before it, on lances decorated with feathers and coloured stones, were two severed heads.

Kiall could not tear his eyes from the shrunken faces. The eye-sockets were empty, but the mouths trembled with each scream. Maggrig and Finn stepped back into view.

'Can we not stop that noise?' hissed Beltzer and Chareos nodded. He walked swiftly to the first lance and held his hand behind the severed head. The scream stopped instantly. Chareos lifted the head and placed it on the ground, then repeated the action with the second. All was silent now, save for the gusting wind. The other questors approached. Chareos squatted down and lifted the silent head, turning it in his hands. Taking his hunting-knife he plunged it deep through the scalp, peeling back the skin, which stretched impossibly before snapping clear of the wooden skull beneath. Chareos stood and lifted the wood to his lips — immediately the blood-curdling scream sounded. He tossed the object to Finn. 'It is merely a kind of flute,' said the former monk. 'The winds enter through the three holes in the base, and the reeds set in the mouth supply the sound. But it is beautifully crafted.' Stooping, he gathered the skin, lifting it by the hair. 'I do not know what this is,' he said, 'but it is not human flesh. See, the hair has been stitched in place.'

Kiall picked up the second head and looked closely at it. It was difficult to know now why it had inspired such fear. He turned it. The wind whistled through it and a low moan came out. Kiall jumped and dropped the head, cursing himself even as the others laughed.

Chareos moved on to the edifice. There were two stone pillars, twelve feet high and three feet square, covered with an engraved script he did not recognise. An enormous lintel sat above the pillars, creating the impression of a gateway. Chareos squatted before it, running his eyes over the script.

Kiall moved around to the rear. There are symbols here,' he said, 'and the stone seems a different colour. Whiter, somehow…" He stepped forward.

'Stop!' yelled Chareos. 'Do not attempt to pass through.'

'Why?' Kiall asked.

Chareos picked up a round pebble. 'Catch this,' he said, tossing it through the opening. Kiall opened his hands, but the stone vanished from sight. 'Throw one to me,' commanded the Blademaster. Kiall obeyed. Again the pebble disappeared.

'Well, do we go through?' asked Beltzer.

'Not yet,' Chareos told him. 'Tell me again all that Okas told you of the Gateway.'

'There was precious little. It leads to another world. That is all.'

'Did he not say it leads to many worlds?'

'Yes,' admitted Beltzer, 'but we do not know how the magic works.'

'Exactly,' said Chareos. 'Did Okas give an indication of when he would pass through the Gateway. Daytime, midnight, sunset?'

'Not as I recall. Is it important?'

'Did he say which side he entered, north or south?'

'No. Let's just go through and see what we find,' urged Beltzer.

Chareos stood. 'Take my hand, and hold to it tightly. Count to five, then draw me back.' He moved to the entrance and held out his arm. Beltzer gripped his wrist and Chareos leaned forward, his head slowly disappearing from view. Beltzer felt the body sag — he did not count, but dragged Chareos back. The Blademaster's face was white, and ice had formed on his moustache; his lips were blue with cold. Beltzer laid him down on the grass, while Finn began rubbing at the frozen skin. After a while Chareos' eyes opened; he stared angrily at Beltzer.

'I said count to five,' he said. 'Not five thousand.'

'You were in there for only a few heartbeats,' Finn told him. 'What did you see?'

'Heartbeats? It was an hour at least on the other side. I saw nothing, save snow and ice blizzards. Not a sign of life. And there were three moons in the sky.' He sat up.

'What can we do?' asked Beltzer.

'Build a fire. I'll think on it. But tell me everything you can remember about Okas and his tribe. Everything.'

Beltzer squatted down on the grass beside Chareos. 'It's not a great deal, Blademaster. I never had much of a memory for detail. They call themselves the People of the World's Dream, but I don't know what that means. Okas tried to explain it to me, but I lost hold of it — the words roared around my head like snowflakes. I think they see the world as a living thing, like an enormous god. But they worship a one-eyed goddess called the Huntress, and they see the moon as her blind eye. The sun is her good eye. That's all.'

Finn lit the fire and joined the two men. 'I have seen them,' he said. 'In the mountains. They move at night — hunting, I think.'

'Then we will wait for moonlight,' said Chareos. 'Then we shall try again.'

The hours passed slowly. Finn cooked a meal of venison, the last of the choice cuts he had taken from the deer killed the previous evening. Beltzer wrapped himself in his blankets and slept, his hand on his axe. Kiall wandered away from the fire, walking to the crest of a nearby hill. There he sat down alone and thought of Ravenna, picturing the surge of joy she would feel when he rode to her. He shivered, and depression struck him like a blow. Would he ever ride to her? And if he did would she just laugh, as she had laughed before? Would she point to her new husband and say, 'He is my man. He is strong, not a dreamer like you'?

A sound came from behind and Kiall turned to see Finn walking towards him. 'You wish to be alone?' asked Finn.

'No, not at all.'

Finn sat down and stared over the rugged countryside. 'This is a beautiful land,' he said, 'and it will remain so until people discover it and build their towns and cities. I could live here until my dying day — and never regret it.'

'Maggrig told me you hated city life,' said Kiall. The hunter nodded.

'I don't mind the endless stone and brick — it's the people. After Bel-azar we were dragged from city to city so that crowds could gawp at us. You would have thought we were gods at the very least. We all hated it — save Beltzer. He was in a kind of Heaven. Chareos was the first to say, "No more". One morning he just rode away.'