David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

He came to awareness with a sudden blaze of light and found himself standing, with the others, before a fire in another cave. The body of an old man lay there, seemingly asleep. The man's spirit rose from the still form and approached them.

Asta Khan said nothing, but bowed deeply to Okas. The Tattooed Man knelt and traced a large circle in the dust of the cave floor, then rose and took Asta's hand, leading him to the centre of the circle. Asta Khan sat while Chareos, Beltzer, Kiall and Okas grouped themselves around him. Black smoke billowed from the cave walls, closing in on the questors. Beltzer lifted his axe and Chareos and Kiall drew their sabres. A sibilant hissing began from within the smoke.

Okas began to chant and was joined by the voice of Asta Khan. White light shone in the circle, blazing from the blades of the questors.

The smoke parted and a tall figure in black armour came into view. He was wearing a dark, winged helm with the visor down, and his arms were folded across his chest.

'It is time to die, Asta Khan,' he declared.

Finn knelt beside the still forms of the departed questors, staring silently at the motionless bodies. Then he took up his bow and moved to the cave mouth where Maggrig joined him. For some time the two men sat in silence there, watching the moonlight on the swaying branches of the trees.

'Anything?' whispered Maggrig.

Finn shrugged. 'You take the trail to the left; I'll watch over the right. But do not move too far from the cave mouth.' Maggrig nodded, and smiled. Notching an arrow to the string, he moved swiftly out into the open and vanished into the undergrowth. Finn waited for several minutes with eyes closed, allowing the darkness to concentrate his hearing. The sounds of the night were many, hidden within the whistling of the wind, the sibilant whispering of the leaves. He opened his eyes and slowly scanned the trail. Satisfied at last, he slipped out into the moonlight and moved to the right. Hiding places were many, but Finn needed somewhere which would supply a killing ground. The bow was not a good night weapon. Distances were hard to judge under moonlight, added to which a good defensive position could prove a death-trap unless there was also a second, safe way out.

He crouched behind a screen of bushes and tried to locate Maggrig. There was no sign of the blond hunter, and Finn smiled. At last he was learning something! An hour passed. . then another.

Finn closed his eyes and pushed his concentration through the sounds of the night — flattening them, flowing with the rhythms of the land, seeking the discordant. There was nothing — and this worried him. Okas was rarely wrong, and if he said there were enemies close then enemies were close. Finn licked his lips and felt his heartbeat quicken. If he could not hear them or see them, there were only two options to consider: either Okas was wrong, or the men hunting them were as skilled as the defenders. Keeping his actions slow and smooth, Finn dropped lower to the ground and glanced back at the cave mouth. There was no movement that he could see. He stared at the rock-face, allowing his peripheral vision into play. Nothing. Just rocks, and grass, and dark scattered bushes.

Easing himself back, Finn strung his bow and notched an arrow. If the enemy were skilled, then perhaps they had seen him and Maggrig move from the cave. The thought of danger to Maggrig almost made him panic, but he quelled the feeling savagely. If they had seen them, then they would now be moving into place to make the kill. Yet Finn had chosen his route with care and his position was a good one. Boulders protected his right flank, there was killing ground ahead and to the left. Behind him was a narrow trail which cut to the right back to the rock-face. Bellying down, he moved on his elbows until he was screened by the undergrowth. He had now lost the advantage of the killing ground on the left, but was protected from immediate attack and knew his enemies could no longer see him.

'This is nonsense,' he told himself. 'There is no one there. You are being frightened by shadows.'

Think, man, think! He put himself in the place of the hunters. You have seen the quarry. What now must you do?

You must make him show himself for a killing shot.

How?

Give him a target. Let him see you. Finn risked a glance to the killing ground now ahead to the right. Yes, that is where I would order a man to walk. Which would mean that Finn would have to rise in order to aim. He flicked his gaze back to the undergrowth behind him. There were only two possible places for an assassin to wait: by the gnarled beech, behind the thick silver trunk, or behind the rounded boulder leading to the cave mouth. Or perhaps both? Finn began to sweat.

The only sensible course was to retreat. The enemy had all the advantages. But to give ground would mean fleeing to the cave and that would bring him into the open. Even if he made it to the rock-face, he would then be trapped inside. And Maggrig would be stranded. Gently placing his bow on the ground, he raised his hands to his face with thumbs pressed together and gave out the low hoot of a night owl four times.

The grunting cough of a badger came from ahead.

Maggrig was still safe. Better still, he knew the danger and had spotted one of the enemy.

Finn dropped below the bushes and edged back, making no sound.

A man carrying a bow moved out into the open ahead of him. For Finn to make the shot he would have to stand. The man angled towards his hiding place and Finn took a deep breath and rose, drawing back on his bowstring. Suddenly he swivelled. Another attacker appeared from behind the boulder twenty paces to the rear; Finn sent an arrow which hammered into the man's skull, then dived to the earth. Two shafts sliced the air where he had been standing. Pushing his knees under him Finn sprinted from his hiding place, hurdling bushes and boulders to drop behind a fallen tree. From here he could see the body of the man he had killed.

Now the game was more to his liking. They had hunted him with great skill, arrogantly confident of their talents. Now one was dead and the others would be nervous. Dropping to his belly once more he crawled back from the tree and, staying flat, notched a second arrow to his bow.

The hunters had to attack from the front now. Was there an edge? They had seen Finn was right-handed; therefore they should come from his right. It would give them an extra fraction of a second in which to make the kill. He angled his body to the right and waited.

A warrior carrying a long spear hurdled the fallen tree and Finn shot him in the chest. The man staggered. A second attacker came from the left. . discarding his bow Finn rolled, came up with his hunting-knife, swerved away from the lunging spear and rammed his blade home into the man's belly. He held the dying man to him and scanned the undergrowth. He could see no one. With a curse he let the body drop and ran to his bow, scooping it into his hand. Just as he straightened he saw a bowman rear up. Finn was dead, and he knew it…

An arrow from Maggrig took the bowman high in the shoulder. The man screamed and loosed his own shaft, but it flew to the left of Finn who scrambled back into the bushes.

The cave, Finn!' shouted Maggrig, breaking all the rules. Finn swung to see three men running across the open ground. He sent an arrow after them, but the distance was too great and his shot was high and wide. Hurling aside his bow, he drew his knife and raced after them.

But they vanished within the cave, and he knew he would be too late.

'Stand firm, or we are all lost,' said Okas. Kiall took a deep breath and watched the swirling smoke.

It vanished to reveal a glittering landscape of stark mountains and tall, skeletal trees devoid of leaves. There were six scaled creatures, their huge mouths rimmed with sharp pointed fangs. They shuffled towards him with arms extended and Kiall recoiled in horror. They had no hands or paws. Instead bloated faces hung from the ends of their arms, sharp teeth gnashing and clicking inside the hollow flesh. Each of the demons was more than seven feet tall, and their horned skin appeared impervious to Kiall's own slender sabre. He glanced to his right, seeking encouragement from Chareos.