David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

'You all know,' said Chien, standing at the centre of the line, 'that treachery awaits us. The Nadir will attack at dusk. It is imperative that they believe they have surprised us, therefore you will be sitting around fires when they come. You may leave your horses saddled. Once the attack begins you may fight as your hearts desire. The Nadir greed and lust for battle shows us that one day they will march on the kingdom of Kiatze itself. With this in mind, it is vital that you account for yourselves well. I would not expect any man to die until he has despatched at least four of the enemy. There will be no retreat; you will die here.' Chien turned away, then swung round again. 'It would not normally be necessary to add to what I have said, but we are standing under an alien sky and far from home. So let me say this: You are the best warriors, the finest of men. If it were otherwise, you would not now be with me. I shall watch the battle from the hill yonder; then I will ascertain whether Mai-syn lives. After that, I will find Jungir Khan and cut the head from his shoulders. That is all.'

Chien removed his brocaded coat of red silk and called Nagasi to him. The warrior shrugged out of his breastplate and pulled on the garment, then bowed to Chien.

'I will see that Oshi arranges your hair in a more regal fashion,' Chien told Nagasi, then walked away to where Sukai stood close to the wagon. The warrior was staring up at the storm-threatened sky.

'How many will they send against us, lord?'

'I do not know. Why does it concern you?'

'If it is less than one hundred we might win, and that would not be in keeping with the plan you have so carefully considered.'

'That is true,' said Chien gravely, 'but I would imagine — following your exhibition at the banquet — that they will want to be certain of the outcome. One hundred would be the barest minimum Jungir Khan would send.'

'And what if we win?' Sukai asked.

'Then you win — and we will think again,' said Chien. 'Now would you be so kind as to cut my hair?'

The men will see you,' protested Sukai. 'It is not fitting.'

Chien shrugged. 'It is important that I pass for a Nadir nomad. A gentleman of the Kiatze has no hope of survival in this barbarous land. Come now, Sukai,' and he sat on the ground. Sukai took a long pair of brass scissors and began to cut away at the heavily lacquered hair, leaving only a top-knot on the crown. Chien stood and removed his shirt and trousers of blue silk, and his high boots. He lifted the canvas from the back of the wagon and pulled out a Nadir jerkin of goatskin, leather breeches and an ugly pair of high riding moccasins.

'This has been cleaned, I take it?' he asked, holding the goatskin at arm's length.

Sukai smiled. 'Three times, lord. Not a louse nor a single flea remains alive in it.'

'It stinks of woodsmoke,' muttered Chien, shrugging his arms into the garment. He clambered into the pair of ill-fitting breeches and tied the rawhide belt. Lastly he tugged on the moccasins.

'How do I look?' he enquired.

'Please do not ask,' said Sukai.

The warrior summoned Oshi, who brought two horses which were unsaddled and re-equipped with Nadir saddles of rough cut leather. There were no stirrups. 'Bury the other saddles,' instructed Chien.

The warrior nodded. 'Also,' Chien added, 'it would be better if Nagasi died having suffered facial injuries.'

'I have already explained that to him,' said Sukai.

'Then it is time for farewells, my friend.'

'Indeed. May your paths be straight, and your days long.'

Chien bowed. 'Look down on me from Heaven, Sukai.'

The warlord took hold of his horse's mane and vaulted into the saddle. Oshi scrambled to the back of his own mare and the two riders galloped from the camp-site.

Chien and Oshi rode high into the hills, hiding the horses in a thick stand of poplar. Then they sat in silence for an hour, Chien praying, Oshi — looking ludicrous in the clothes of a Nadir warrior — wrestling with the problem of how to look after his lord in the midst of this barren, uncivilised land.

His prayers concluded, Chien rose and moved to a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley below. As ordered Sukai had cook-fires burning, the men relaxing around them. Chien allowed anger to wash over his emotions. It was intolerable that a warrior like Sukai should be sacrificed in such a manner; there was no honour here, in this land of treachery and barbarism. With good fortune his secret messages to the Emperor, carried by his most trusted concubine, would mean no further gifts to the Khan. Perhaps also the news would encourage the Emperor to build up his army.

Oshi crept alongside Chien. 'Should we not put distance between ourselves and the action, lord?' asked the old servant.

Chien shook his head. 'It would be most unbecoming to allow them to die unobserved. If there is a small risk to us, then so be it.'

The sun began its slow descent and Chien saw the dust-cloud to the south-west. His heartbeat quickened and he fought for calm. He wanted to see, with a cool eye, the last moments of Sukai's life. It was his hope — albeit a faint one — that one day he could write a poem about it, and deliver it in person to Sukai's widow.

As the Nadir force topped the hills around the campsite, Chien's trained eye swept over them. There were almost three hundred men in the attacking group and his pride swelled. Here, at last, was a compliment from the barbarians: three hundred against twenty. Chien could almost feel Sukai's joy, watching as the twenty men ran to their horses. Sukai took up his position in the centre, drawing both his swords. Nagasi, in Chien's red coat, was beside him.

Screaming their battle cries the Nadir charged. Sukai, forming the point of a wedge, kicked his horse into a gallop to meet them. Dust swirled under the horses' hooves. Chien made to stand, but Oshi tugged nervously at his jerkin and reluctantly Chien sat. He could see Sukai cutting and cleaving a path through the Nadir ranks, and could just make out the features of the traitor Kubai at the rear. Sukai almost reached him, but a spear was thrust through his throat; he killed the wielder, plunged his second blade into the body of a Nadir warrior and fell from the saddle. The battle was brief, but Chien waited until he could count the Nadir fallen. Almost ninety of the enemy had been killed or wounded.

Kubai rode through the Nadir ranks and dismounted alongside Sukai's body, which he kicked three times. Then he hacked the head from the neck and raised it by the hair, swinging round and finally hurling it away to roll in the dust.

Chien backed away to the horses, Oshi following.

They fought well, lord,' said Oshi.

Chien nodded and vaulted to the saddle. The Khan will pay dearly for Sukai's death. I swear this on the souls of my ancestors.'

Turning his horse to the south-east, Chien led the way towards the distant mountains. His sword on his back, his hunting bow in his hand, he flicked the reins and let the stallion run. The wind was cold on his shaved head, but his blood was hot with the memory of the battle.

The distant mountains rose jagged against the sky, awesome in their size, clouds swirling about their peaks.

'Will we cross them, lord?' asked Oshi fearfully.

There is a narrow pass that does not offer perils to the traveller. We will go there.'

'Do they have a name, these mountains? Do spirits wander there?'

They are the Mountains of the Moon. . and spirits wander everywhere, Oshi. Do not concern yourself.'

'I am concerned only for you, lord. Where will I find food to prepare for you? Where will you bathe? How can I clean your clothes?'

Chien smiled and hauled back on the reins, allowing the stallion to walk. He turned to Oshi. 'I did not bring you with me so that you could serve me. I brought you because you are an old man and a friend, Oshi. You served my father with diligence and loyalty, and me with loyalty and affection. I still remember sitting upon your knee and listening to fanciful tales of dragons and heroes. I remember you letting me drink seichi, and eat rice-cakes by your fireside. It was you, Oshi, who cured me of my childhood fears: my nightmares. Do not call me lord any longer. Call me Chien, as you used to when I was a child.'