David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

The winter storms eased off on the nineteenth day, but even then it took another three weeks before the exhausted group topped the last rise before Tavern Town.

Beltzer led the way down to the inn, pounding on the door and calling for Naza. The little man shouted with delight when he saw the giant and embraced him.

'I feared you dead,' he said. 'Come in, come in! Mael has just lit the fire. It will soon be warm. Come in!'

'Where is everyone?' asked Kiall.

'They don't fell the timber at this time of year,' replied Naza. 'There will be no one here for another two months. Most of the passes are blocked. Sit down by the fire. I will fetch you some wine.' His smile faded as Okas entered the tavern. 'He's. . he's. .' stammered the innkeeper.

'Yes, he is,' said Chareos swiftly. 'He is also a friend who, like us, last ate three days ago.'

'Wine first,' grunted Beltzer, throwing his arm around Naza's shoulder and leading him back towards the cellar.

The flames took hold of the logs and began to rise, but even so it was cold inside the inn. Chareos pulled up a chair and sat. His eyes were dull, and purple rings showed under them. Even the hardy Finn was exhausted. Only Okas and Kiall seemed none the worse for the ordeal in the mountains. The old man had been untroubled by the cold, and the youngster had grown in strength as the days passed.

'We're too old for this,' said Finn, reading Chareos' thoughts. Chareos nodded, too tired to reply. Returning with wine, Beltzer thrust a poker deep into the fire and waited until the iron glowed red and bright. Then he plunged it into the wine pitcher. He poured five goblets and handed one to each of the questors. He downed his own swiftly and refilled the goblet. Naza brought them bread, smoked cheese and cold meat.

After the meal Chareos slowly climbed the stairs to the upper guest room, pulled off his boots and was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the bolster. Maggrig and Finn took a second room, while Okas lay down on the stone hearth and slept before the fire.

Beltzer and Kiall sat together, the giant calling out for a third pitcher of wine.

Mael brought it. 'I take it you still have no money?' she asked.

'Oh yes, he has,' said Kiall. 'Pay the bill, Beltzer.'

Beltzer muttered a curse and dipped into his pocket, producing a thick gold ring. Mael took it, judging the weight. 'That should settle about half of what you owe Naza,' she said, leaving her hand extended.

'You are a hard woman,' grumbled Beltzer. He fished around in his pocket, seeking a small token, but he had only larger items. Finally he produced a wristband. 'That's worth ten times what I owe,' he told her.

Mael laughed at him, as she took the band and examined it. 'I have never seen workmanship like it, nor gold as red as this. Naza will give you a fair price — and you are right. It is worth far more than you owe. I will see to it that you are reimbursed.'

'Don't bother,' said Beltzer, flushing. 'Keep it. I'll probably come back one day, with not a copper coin to my name.'

There's truth in that,' she told him.

After she had gone Beltzer turned to Kiall. 'What are you staring at, boy? Never seen a man settle a debt before?'

Kiall had drunk too much wine and his head was light, his thoughts serene. 'I never thought to seeyou settle one.'

'What does that mean?'

'I took you for a selfish, greedy pig,' said Kiall, smilingly oblivious to Beltzer's growing anger.

'I pay my debts,' declared Beltzer.

'Truly? You didn't even thank Finn for buying back your axe — and that cost him dear.'

'That is between Finn and me. You don't count, boy. Now curb your tongue — before I cut it out!'

Kiall blinked and sobered swiftly. 'And you are a liar,' he said. 'You told me Tura was dead, drowned in a dock. All lies. And I don't fear you, you fat-bellied pig. Don't threaten me!'

Beltzer lurched to his feet and Kiall rose, scrabbling for his sabre, but not before Beltzer's ringers grabbed the front of his jerkin and hoisted him into the air. As Beltzer's fist rose Kiall's foot lashed up into his groin and the giant bellowed with pain, dropping the younger man and staggering back. Now Kiall drew his sabre. Beltzer grinned at him — and advanced.

'What are you going to do with that, boy? You going to stick old Beltzer? Are you?' Kiall backed away, aware that the situation had careered out of control. Beltzer lunged at him, slapping the sabre aside. Kiall hit him with a straight left that slammed into Beltzer's face. The giant ignored the blow and struck Kiall's jaw open-handed, cartwheeling the younger man across the floor. Half-stunned, Kiall came to his knees and dived head-first at Beltzer's belly. Beltzer's knee came up with sickening force, snapping Kiall's head back. .

He awoke to find himself in the chair by the fire with Beltzer sitting opposite him.

'Want some wine?' Beltzer asked. Kiall shook his head. Hammers were beating inside his skull. 'You are a game fighter, boy, and one day you may even be a wolf. But wolves know better than to tackle a bear.'

Til remember that,' Kiall promised. 'And I'll have that wine now.'

Beltzer handed him a goblet. 'I love old Finn. And he knows how much it meant to me to have that axe back; he didn't need any words. Back at Bel-azar, Finn was dragged from the ramparts by the Nadir. Chareos, Mag-grig and me, we jumped down to haul him clear. It was I who carried Finn on my back, and cut a path to the gate-tower. He didn't thank me then; he didn't need to. You understand?'

'I believe I do.'

'It's the drink. It makes me talk too much. You don't like me, do you?'

Kiall looked at the flat, ugly face under the shining bald head; he stared into the small round eyes. 'No, not much,' he admitted.

Beltzer nodded solemnly. 'Well, don't let it concern you. I don't like myself much, either. But I was on the mountain, boy. No one can take that away from me.'

'I was on the mountain too,' said Kiall. 'Not my mountain. But maybe you will, one day.' 'What is so special about it?' 'Nothing,' replied Beltzer. Then why should I wish to go there?' Beltzer looked up from his wine. 'Because that's where your lady is, Kiall.'

Moonlight bathed the grey stone walls, and a hunting owl swooped low over the deserted ramparts. Chareos could hear the screams of the wounded and the dying, yet there were no bodies sprawled on the stone, no blood pooling by the gate-tower steps. As he sat down on the edge of the crenellated battlement, staring out over the valley of Bel-azar, the screams faded into the echoes of memory. The land was now empty of life. Where Nadir camp-fires had lit the valley like fallen stars, now there was only the shimmering grass, the lonely boulders and a long-dead lightning-struck tree.

Chareos was alone. He could not remember travelling to Bel-azar, but that did not seem to matter. He felt, in some strange way, that he was home — safe among the ghosts of the past.

Safe? Dark shapes moved at the edge of his vision, vanishing into the shadows as he swung to confront them. He backed away to the rotted gate-tower door and climbed the spiral steps to the circular battlement. There he drew his sword and waited. He could hear the scratching of talons on the stairway, smell the fetid odours of the dwellers in the dark: slime on fur, the sweet, sickly stink from mouths that fed on corpses.

He slammed shut the top door. There was no bolt and he dropped his sword into the catch, wedging the door shut. Heavy bodies beat upon the wood. 'Beltzer!' called Chareos. 'Help me!' But there was no answer. 'Maggrig, Finn!' 'It would seem you are alone, kinsman,' said a quiet voice and Chareos turned slowly, knowing whom he would see. The tall man sat on the battlement's edge, his black hair tied at the nape of the neck, his violet eyes seeming grey in the moonlight.