David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

'Why would anyone do this, Maggrig? What is gained by it?'

The hunter spread his hands. 'There is no answer I can give you. I took part in a raid on a Nadir camp once. We had found several of our men tortured over camp-fires, their eyes burned out. We followed the raiders to their village and captured them. Our officer, a cultured man, ordered all the children to be brought out to stand before the captives. Then he slew them in front of their parents. After that the Nadir were hanged. He told us the Nadir did not fear death, so to kill them was no real punishment. But to butcher their children before their eyes — that was justice.' Maggrig fell silent.

Kiall looked back at the village. 'There is no justice in any of it,' he said. The others joined them and the group moved back from the slope to make camp. Finn was unable to light a fire because the wood was too damp, and the questors sat in a circle, saying little.

'Was Okas among the dead?' asked Kiall.

Chareos shrugged. 'Difficult to tell. Many of the corpses have been stripped almost clean, but I saw no tattooes I could remember."

'Have we arrived in the midst of a war between them?'

'No,' answered Finn. 'The Tattooed People are small, and pigeon-toed. The tracks of the raiders show them to be tall. I found this,' he went on, pulling a broken gold wristband from the pocket of his deerskin jerkin. Behzer gasped as he saw it.

'Sweet Heaven!' he exclaimed. 'How heavy is it?' Finn tossed it to him. 'It must be worth around a hundred Raq,' said the giant.

'The owner threw it away when it broke,' said Finn. 'Gold cannot be worth that much here.'

'It isn't,' agreed Chareos, producing a small, barbed arrow-head — it too was gold.

'I am beginning to like it here,' remarked Beltzer. 'We could go back to Gothir as rich men.'

'Let us be content to be going back as live men,' snapped Chareos.

'I am with you on that,' whispered Finn, holding out his hand to Beltzer, who reluctantly returned the wristband.

Chareos rose. 'It is coming on towards dusk,' he said. 'I think we should make our way back to the Gate and camp there.' He shouldered his pack and led the others towards the north-west. They moved warily, stopping often while Finn scouted the trail ahead, and Kiall grew increasingly nervous. There would be little chance of hearing the approach of a legion of enemy warriors, not above the cluttering of the dark creatures in the trees, the distant roar of hunting cats and the rushing of unseen rivers and streams. He kept close to Chareos, Beltzer bringing up the rear with his huge axe in his hands.

Up ahead Finn dropped to his haunches, raising his arm and pumping his fist three times in the air. Then he rolled to the left and out of sight. Maggrig ducked into the undergrowth, followed swiftly by Chareos and Beltzer. Kiall stood for a moment alone on the trail. Three tall warriors came into sight, dragging a young woman; they saw Kiall and stopped, perplexed. They were tall men, bronze of skin with dark, straight hair. Gold glittered on their arms and ankles. Two of them carried weapons of dark wood, while the third had a long knife of burnished gold. They wore necklets of coloured stone, and their faces were streaked with many colours. The woman was small, her skin copper-coloured. On her brow was a blue tattoo. She wore only a loincloth of animal skin.

Slowly Kiall drew his sabre. One of the warriors screamed a war-cry and ran at him, his wooden club raised high. Kiall dropped into the sideways crouch Chareos had taught him, then sprang forward, the sabre lancing the man's chest. The bronze warrior staggered back as the sword slid clear. He looked down at the wound, saw the blood burst from it and slumped face first to the ground. The young woman tore herself free of her captors and ran down the trail towards Kiall who stepped aside to let her pass. The remaining warriors stood, uncertain. But from behind them came a score more of their comrades.

Kiall plunged left into the undergrowth as the hunters rushed forward. The ground dropped away and he lost his footing, slipping and sliding down a mud-covered slope to land in a sprawling heap at the bottom.

Half winded, he struggled to rise. Gathering his sabre he glanced up: the bronze warriors were coming down towards him. Spinning on his heel, he raced down a narrow trail. Broad, overhanging leaves lashed at his face, thorn-covered branches ripping at his clothes. Twice he slipped and fell, but the bloodcurdling cries of the pursuing hunters fed his panic, giving strength to his flight.

Where were his friends? Why were they not helping Aim?

He forced his way through a last section of dense undergrowth and emerged on the muddy bank of a great river, wider than the lakes of his homeland. His breathing was ragged, his ears filled with the drumming of his heart.

Where can I go?

He had lost all sense of direction and thick, lowering clouds obscured the sun. He heard shouts from his left and swinging to the right, he ran along the river-bank.

A huge dragon reared from the water, its elongated mouth rimmed with teeth. Kiall screamed, and leapt back from the river's edge. A spear sliced the air by his head and he turned in time to see a bronze warrior diving at him. The warrior crashed into Kiall, hurling them both back towards the river-bank. His sabre knocked from his hand, Kiall surged up and crashed his fist into the man's face, knocking him sideways. The warrior sprang upright but Kiall leapt feet-first, his boots thudding against the man's chest and propelling him back into the dark water. As the warrior struggled to the surface and began to wade ashore, the dragon's head reared behind him, the monstrous jaws clamping home on his leg. He let out an agonising scream and began to stab at the monster's scaled hide with a golden knife. Blood billowed to the river's surface and Kiall watched in horror as the warrior was dragged from sight.

Kiall tore his eyes from the scene and took up his sabre. He scanned the trees for sign of the enemy. A sudden movement behind made him spin round with sword raised. It was the young woman and she waved him towards where she was hidden in the undergrowth. He ran to her, dropped to his knees and crawled inside the spike-leaved bushes. Carefully she eased leaves back across the opening.

Within seconds more of the enemy arrived on the scene. They stood at the river-side, watching the struggle between the dying warrior and the dragon. When it was over the hunters squatted in a circle and^spoke in low voices; one pointed up the trail, and it seemed to Kiall they were arguing about which direction to take. A large spider, hairless and bloated, crawled on to Kiall's hand. He stifled a scream. The girl swiftly leaned over him, plucking the insect from his skin and carefully placing it on a leaf.

The hunters rose and moved off into the jungle.

Kiall lay back and smiled at the young woman. She did not respond in kind, but touched her hand to her breast, then to her brow, then pressed her ringers to Kiall's mouth. Not knowing how to respond, Kiall lifted her hand and kissed it. She settled down beside him, closed her eyes and slept.

For some time he lay awake, too frightened to leave the sanctuary of the undergrowth. Then he too drifted off into a light doze — and awoke with the moon shining high above the trees. The woman sat up and crawled into the open. Kiall followed. She whispered something to him, but it was a language he had never heard.

'Okas?' he asked. Her head tilted. 'I am looking for Okas.'

She shrugged and trotted off along the river-bank. He followed her through the moonlit jungle, up over hills and rises, down through vine-choked archways and on to a wide cave where she stopped outside and held out her hand. He took it and was led inside. Torches flickered and he saw more than thirty of the Tattooed People sitting around fires built within circles of stone. Two young men approached them. After the woman had spoken to them for a few moments, he was led further into the cave.