David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

Chien bowed — but not low. He straightened. 'I cannot thank you sufficiently, sire, for the time you have allowed me.' He backed seven paces, instead of ten, and turned.

As the great doors swung shut Jungir turned to a broad-shouldered warrior at his side. 'You will guide them south for a week. Then there will be an attack on them. No one survives. You understand, Kubai?'

'I do, sire.'

'And see that they do not move around in the palace. I want no one to mention the yellow-faced bitch.'

'As you wish, Lord Khan.'

The chamberlain led Chien through the maze of tunnels to three large, square adjoining rooms. Windows in the west walls looked out over an exquisitely ugly garden of shrubs. In the first room was a bed, four chairs, a table and three lanterns. The second contained only a narrow bed and a single lantern, while the third boasted a metal bath, three barrels of water and several thin towels.

'It is almost too luxurious,' said Chien, without a hint of mockery. The chamberlain gave a thin-lipped smile and left. Chien turned to his manservant, Oshi, a wiry ex-slave who had served Chien's family for forty years. 'Find the spy-holes,' ordered Chien, using an obscure Kiatze dialect. Oshi bowed and moved around the room for several minutes.

'There are none, lord,' said Oshi finally.

'Is there no end to their insults?' snapped Chien. 'Do they feel I am not important enough to spy on?'

'They are savages, lord.'

'Go and find where they have put Sukai and the others. Send Sukai to me.'

'At once, lord. Or should I prepare your bath first?'

'I will bathe tomorrow. I would not put it past these Nadir to have urinated in the water-barrels.' Oshi chuckled and left the room. Chien pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and dusted one of the chairs. A dark shape scuttled across the room behind him and Chien swivelled, his hand snapping a small throwing-knife from his sleeve. The blade flashed across the room and the black rat died instantly, almost cut in half.

Minutes later, as Chien stood at the window staring down at the grey-green shrubs in what passed for a royal garden, there came a discreet tap at the door.

'Enter!' he commanded.

Sukai marched into the room and bowed as low as his lacquered leather breastplate would allow. The officer carried his iron helm against his chest. He was neither tall nor especially formidable in appearance, yet his skill with the long, curved chantanai blade was known throughout the Middle Kingdom. He had served Chien for eleven years — and not once in that time had Chien seen him without his hair combed, oiled and lacquered. Now it was hanging lank about his shoulders.

'Why do you come here looking like the basest peasant?' asked Chien, still using the Kiatze dialect.

'A thousand apologies, noble lord,' Sukai replied. 'I was preparing for my bath — I did not think you would wish to wait for me to dress properly.'

'You are correct in that, Sukai. But it was improper to prepare to bathe without first ascertaining whether I had need of you. However, in a city of barbarians it is difficult to retain hold of civilised behaviour. Have you checked your room?'

'I have, lord. There are no passageways hidden, and no secret hearing tubes.'

'Disgraceful!'

'They are an insulting people.'

Oshi entered silently, bowed twice — then saw the dead rat. He retrieved Chien's knife and removed the corpse by the tail. 'It has fleas,' he said, holding the body at arm's length.

'Throw it from the window,' ordered Chien. 'If we leave it here, we will probably find it served to us for supper.' Oshi hurled the rat to the gardens below and wandered off to the back room to clean the knife, while Chien turned back to the warrior. 'Tomorrow we will be leaving for the south.'

'Yes, lord.'

Chien hesitated and closed his eyes. His concentration hardened and he felt the floating presence of a spirit within the room. He smiled. So, he thought, they are not quite such savages. His fingers flickered against his belt; Sukai read the message, and smoothly moved from Kiatze to Nadir.

'Will the Lord Khan be supplying us with guides, sir?'

'But of course. He is a noble king, of a noble line. But I do not think we should all presume upon his hospitality. You will arrange for a guard of twenty men to take the women and all manservants bar Oshi back to Kiatze. I will send a message to the Divine Emperor, telling him of the success of our mission and the kind words of Jungir Khan. The journey south would be too hard on my girls.'

'Yes, lord.'

'We will take only one wagon — with gifts for the Queen. All my goods will go back to Kiatze.'

'With the exception of your tent, my lord?'

'No, that also. I will take my paints and brushes, that is all. There may be some interesting flowers along the way.' His ringers appeared to brush a speck of dust from his sleeve.

Sukai bowed. 'I have noticed many red blooms, sir.'

'You will see many more."

Sukai's face hardened. 'May I be permitted to write to my family, lord?'

'Of course. Now leave me. I will see you at dawn.'

As the officer departed Oshi returned to the room with Chien's freshly cleaned knife in his hands. Chien returned the blade to the oiled sheath in his sleeve.

Oshi moved the cleaned chair to the window and Chien sat, seemingly lost in thought. He focused his mind on the intrusive spirit in the room and saw a thin, wrinkled old man with pale eyes and a weasel face. He was floating just below the high ceiling. Chien sat silently until the watcher's presence faded.

'Oshi!'

'Yes, lord?'

'Go to the kitchens and find some bread. They will have no fish, but choose me some dried meat that is not full of corruption.'

'At once!'

Chien folded his arms and thought of Mai-syn. To her this place must have seemed worse than squalid. He concentrated on the beauty of her face, trying to communicate with her spirit. But there was only a cosmic silence. Perhaps she is too far from here, he thought. Perhaps not, the darker side of his nature told him.

The chamberlain knocked at the door and told Chien that the Lord Jungir Khan had arranged a feast in his honour. It would be this evening at moonrise. It would be acceptable if the Lord Ambassador wished to bring the Chief of his Guards. Chien bowed and accepted.

What new humiliation will the savages plan for tonight, he wondered?

The great hall was packed with warriors, seated around a score of bench tables pushed together to make an enormous open square. Jungir Khan — in tight-fitting tunic of black leather embroidered with gold thread — sat at the southern end of the hall, the throne dais behind him. Chien was seated at his right hand and to his right sat Sukai, ill at ease and eating little. To Jungir's left was a wizened man whom the Khan introduced as Shotza, the court shaman. Chien inclined his head to the man. 'We have heard much of the skills of the Nadir shamen,' he said.

'As we have of the court magicians of the Kiatze,' responded Shotza. 'Is it true they make tiny golden machines that fly in the air, imitating birds?'

'The Divine King has three,' answered Chien-tsu.

Shotza nodded, but seemed unconvinced.

The feast involved eating an extraordinary amount of meats which, back in Kiatze, would have been refused by the court dogs. In the main, it was high beyond the point of rotting. To offset this, the guests covered the food with spices. Chien ate sparingly and drank less. The liquor being consumed by the Nadir was distilled, he was told, from rancid goats' milk. 'How clever,' he remarked. How apt, he thought.

Between the interminable courses there were performances by jugglers or acrobats. They were not especially skilled, though Chien applauded politely.