David Gemmell - Quest for Lost Heroes

'Be silent, Beltzer,' said Chareos, 'we have enough enemies without adding more.' He turned to Chien and bowed deeply. 'It is a pleasure to meet you, ambassador. You will forgive, I hope, the words of my companion. We have been riding for weeks, with little food, and we have lost three of our comrades. We are short on provisions, on stamina, and on courtesy.'

Chien nodded. 'A graceful apology, sir. Perhaps you would follow me, and then we can see to the introductions? There is venison and a warm fire in the cave.'

Chien spun on his heel and marched off, followed by Oshi. Beltzer grinned. 'Plucky little game-cock, isn't he? I'm damned if I don't like him.'

'That is just as well,' said Chareos softly. 'Had you attacked him he would have killed you.' Without another word Chareos stepped into the saddle and touched his heels to the grey.

At the cave the questors finished the venison with a speed that, to Chien at least, was more gorging than dining. Still, they were barbarians after all, and little more could be expected of them.

'Where is Asta Khan?' asked Chareos, wiping the fat from his fingers on to the front of his shirt.

'Sleeping,' answered Chien. 'He will join us this evening. Perhaps we could complete the introductions?'

'Of course. Well, that is Beltzer.' The giant grinned and thrust out a hand. Chien looked down at it with some distaste. It had all the aesthetic appeal of a shovel: the fingers were thick and short, ingrained with dirt, and there were grease stains on the skin. Chien sighed and gripped the hand briefly. Harokas merely nodded, as did Tanaki, but Kiall also offered his hand. This one at least was clean.

'So why is an ambassador from the east dressed as a Nadir rider?' asked Chareos.

Chien told him of the bridal gift, and of the attack upon his party. 'Unfortunately treachery is a way of life among the Nadir,' he said.

'Not only the Nadir,' put in Tanaki, her face blushing. 'The Gothir too have a long history of betrayal and broken promises.'

'I am sorry, Princess,' said Chareos. 'You are of course correct; it was a discourteous comment. But tell me, ambassador, what are your plans? Why have you not tried to reach a port for a ship home?'

'All in its own time, Chareos,' answered the warrior. 'But for now I have offered my aid to Asta Khan, and he is willing to help you. That, I believe, makes us companions.'

'You are more than welcome to travel with us, but I would appreciate knowing your purpose. It does not sit well with me to have a comrade whose plans are a mystery.'

'That I can understand. But I will follow your lead and even your instructions as leader of the group. You need know no more. When my own plans are more stone than smoke, I will inform you — and we will part company.'

Chien moved to the rear of the cave and settled down alongside a second fire, built for him by Oshi. He was more relaxed now. Chareos was almost civilised, and a thinking man. Beltzer was obviously no great thinker, but he wielded the huge axe as if it was no weight at all. The woman was unusual — great facial beauty, but with a body too stringy and boylike for Chien's taste. Yet her eyes radiated strength and purpose. Chien could identify no weak point within the group, and that pleased him.

He settled down to sleep.

Chareos wandered to the cave-mouth, looking up at the stars. There were few clouds and the vault of Heaven was enormous, breathtaking in its scale.

'Welcome to my hearth,' said a sibilant voice and Chareos felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stiffen. He turned slowly. Squatting in the shadows was an old man, wearing a thin loin-cloth of skin and a necklace of human teeth.

'Thank you, Asta Khan,' replied Chareos, moving to sit opposite the old man. 'I am glad to see you well.'

'Your aid was vital. I will not forget it.'

'Okas is dead,' said Chareos.

'I know. Protecting me was a great trial for him and he had little strength left. Now I shall aid you. I know a way into the city — into the bowels of the palace. There you can rescue the woman.'

'Why would you do this, shaman? And do not tell me about paying a debt: that is not the Nadir way. What do you hope to gain?'

'What does it matter?' asked Asta, his face a mask, his eyes cold and impenetrable.

'I do not enjoy playing another man's game.'

'Then let me say this — I have no interest in the woman. You may take her. That is what you want, is it not? There is nothing else you desire?'

'That is true enough,' answered Chareos, 'but now I have two men with their own secret plans.'

Asta cackled and the sound made Chareos shiver. 'The Kiatze? He wishes only to kill Jungir Khan. No more. When the time is right, he will leave you. Now you have only one man to concern yourself with.'

Chareos was uneasy, but he said nothing. He did not like Asta Khan and knew there was more to be said. Yet he could find no words. The old man watched him, his eyes unblinking. Chareos had the feeling his mind was being read.

'You must rest tonight,' said Asta. 'Tomorrow we walk the Path of Souls. It will not be an easy journey but, with luck and courage, we will pass through.'

'I have heard of this Path,' whispered Chareos. 'It is between worlds and it is said to be inhabited by evil creatures. Why must we walk it?'

'Because even as we speak the general Tsudai is riding towards us. He will be in the mountains by dawn. But, of course, you may prefer to fight three hundred men. .'

'Three of our party are dead already. I wish to see no more die.'

'Sadly, Chareos, such is the fate of the ghosts-yet-to-be.'

Beltzer could not sleep. He lay back in the flickering torchlight and closed his eyes, but all he could see were the faces of Finn, Maggrig and Okas. Rolling to his side, he opened his eyes. His axe was resting against the cave wall beside him and he looked at his reflection in the broad blades.

You look like your father, he told himself, remembering the grim-faced farmer and his constant, unrelenting battle against poverty. Up an hour before dawn, in bed at midnight, day in day out, engaged in a war he could never hope to win. The farmland was rocky, near barren, but somehow his father had fought the sterile environment, producing enough food to feed Beltzer and his five brothers. By the time Beltzer was fourteen three of the brothers had gone, run away in search of an easier life in the city. The other two had died with his mother during the Red Plague. Beltzer stayed on, working alongside the bitter old man until at last, while guiding the plough-horses, his father had clutched his chest and sagged to the ground. Beltzer had been felling trees in the high meadow and had seen him fall. He had dropped his axe and sprinted down to him, but when he arrived the old man was dead.

Beltzer could not remember one kind word from his father, and had seen him smile only once, when he was drunk one midwinter evening.

He had buried him in the thin soil and had walked from the farmhouse without a backward glance.

Of his brothers he heard nothing. It was as if they had never been.

His mother was a quiet woman, tough and hardy. She too had rarely smiled, but when he thought back he realised she had had little to smile about. He had been beside her when she died. Her face had lost its perennial weariness; she had been almost pretty then.

Beltzer sat up, feeling melancholy. Looking around, he saw Chareos asleep by the dying fire. He rose and took his axe, wanting to see the stars, feel the night wind on his face.

He missed Finn. That night on the gate-tower when the Nadir dragged the bowman from the walls Beltzer had leapt in among them, cleaving and killing. He was amazed to find Chareos and Maggrig beside him. Stooping, he had lifted Finn to his back and run for the gate.