“No rest. It is a long journey ahead. I will sleep tonight. There is a good camping place some four hours ride to the south.”
“Is the girl alive?” asked Chareos. Kiall moved in behind him.
“She was when they took her to the fort town,” Okas said. “I could not see beyond that; the distance is too great for me. And I have no hold on her but for the love of Kiall. It is not enough. Had I known her, I would be able to find her anywhere.”
“How long for the journey?”
“Maybe three weeks. Maybe a month. It is rough country. And we must move with care. Nadir tribesmen, outlaws, Wolfsheads, Nadren. And … other perils.”
“What other perils?” asked Beltzer.
“Demons,” answered Okas. Beltzer made the sign of the protective horn on his brow and chest, and Finn did likewise.
“Why demons?” Chareos asked. “What has sorcery to do with this quest?”
Okas shrugged his shoulders and stared down at the ground. He began to trace circular patterns in the dust.
Chareos knelt beside him. “Tell me, my friend. Why demons?”
Okas looked up and met Chareos’ dark eyes. “You asked me here to help you,” he said. “I help you. What if I ask you to help me?”
“You are a friend,” Chareos replied without hesitation. “If you need me—or any of us—you have only to ask. Are the demons hunting you?”
“No. But there is old man—enemy of Jungir Khan. He lives alone in mountains far from here. He is the one I am pledged to help. But if I go alone, I will die. Yet I must go.”
Then I shall go with you,” declared Chareos.
“And I,” echoed Beltzer, clapping his large hand on Okas’ shoulder.
Okas nodded, then returned to tracing his patterns in the dust. He spoke no more, and Chareos left him alone.
Kiall moved alongside Chareos. “I need to speak with you,” he said, walking away from the others. Chareos followed him to a shaded spot beneath a spreading elm. “How does this help us find Ravenna?” the young man asked.
“It doesn’t, Kiall. We may die here.”
“Then why? Did we come so far for nothing?” Kiall stormed.
“Friendship is not nothing. That old man will die without us. What would you have me say? There are few virtues in this world, boy, but friendship is one that I prize. But if you want a reason which has naught to do with honor, then consider this: What chance do we have of finding Ravenna without Okas?” Chareos gripped Kiall’s shoulder. “I have no choice, my friend. None at all.”
Kiall nodded. “I shall go, too,” he said.
Maggrig returned with supplies of food: dried meats, oats, salt, and a sweet tisane made from dried honey and turmeric root. The questers set off toward the south with Okas and Chareos riding at the front and Kiall, Beltzer, and Maggrig following. Finn galloped off into the distance, scouting for sign of raiders or outlaws.
Kiall rode alongside Maggrig. “The thought of fighting demons terrifies me,” he confided.
“And me,” owned Maggrig. “I saw the stuffed corpse of a Joining once when we were in New Gulgothir. A wolfman some ten feet high—he was killed by Ananais, the Drenai hero, during the Ceska wars decades ago. But no demons. Finn had a friend killed by them, so he told me. They were hunting him in his sleep, and he would awake screaming. One night he screamed but did not wake. There was not a mark on him.”
Kiall shivered.
Beltzer dropped back to ride alongside them. “The Nadir Shamans summon the creatures,” he said. “I knew a man once who survived an encounter with them. He’d robbed a Nadir shrine. Then the dreams began. He was being hunted through a dark wood; he had no weapons, and the beasts came closer to him each night.”
“What did he do?” Maggrig asked.
“He journeyed to a Temple of the Thirty near Mashrapur. They made him pass over the ornament he’d stolen—a goblet, I think it was. Then two of the warrior-priests sat with him while he slept. He dreamed of the wood again, but this time the priests were with him, all dressed in silver armor and carrying swords which blazed brighter than lanterns. They fought off the demons and took the man’s spirit to the Nadir shaman who sent them. They agreed to return the goblet and the dreams stopped.”
“He was a lucky man,” said Maggrig.
“Not really. He died soon after in a fight over a tavern whore.”
Beltzer spurred his mount forward and followed Chareos and Okas over a small rise.
Ahead of them was a long valley, and beyond that the seemingly arid, windswept landscape of the Nadir Steppes.
Tanaki rose from her bed, stretched, and walked to the window, opening the shutters and staring out over the empty square.
Movement from behind made her turn, and she smiled at the newcomer.
“It is considered polite to announce yourself, Harokas,” she told the hawk-faced assassin.
He shrugged. “Not in my line of work,” he said with a broad grin.
“I had not expected you for some weeks. Tell me you rode day and night to feast your eyes on my beauty.”
“Would that I could, Princess. But I did bring news that will interest you. There is a group of men riding here, intent on rescuing one of the slave women. It is likely your life will be in some danger from them.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
She chuckled. “You think I should fear six men? I could probably tackle that many myself on a good day.”
“These men are special, Princess. They are led by Chareos the Blademaster. Among them is Beltzer of the Ax—also the bowmen of legend, Finn and Maggrig.”
“The heroes of Bel-azar? What interest can they have in a peasant woman?”
“What, indeed?”
“How did you hear of this?” Tanaki asked.
“They bragged about their mission in a village. The whole of the area is alive with the story.”
“But there is something you are not telling me,” she said, a trace of a smile on her face.
“You are quite correct, Princess,” he replied, opening his arms to her. She stepped in to him, and he kissed her; then she pulled away.
“Later,” she told him. “First tell me all.”
“Oh, no,” he said, sweeping her from her feet and carrying her into the square bedroom at the rear of the hall.
They made love for more than an hour; finally he lay back on the bolster and closed his eyes.
“Now tell me,” she said, raising herself on one elbow and looking down at him.
“You know that if I was the sort of man to fall in love it would be with you, Princess. You are strong, intelligent, courageous, and quick-witted. And in bed …”
“Yes, yes. I compliment you also. But tell me!”
“And you are so single-minded. I admire that.” Her face darkened. “All right, all right,” he said, smiling. “The earl has commissioned me to kill Chareos.”
“And you would like me to do it for you?”
“Well, I am getting old and tired.”
“I noticed that,” she said, sitting up. “And now I have work to do.”
“Why was Tsudai here?” he asked, and she turned back to him, wondering if the concern in his eyes was genuine. Deciding that it was not, she merely shrugged and stood.
“How is it that you hear everything, Harokas? Are you a seer?”
“No, I am a listener. And when Jungir Khan’s general rides across the steppes, I know it is not for exercise.”
“He came to buy women; that was all.”
“Now it is your turn to hold something back. Would you like him dead, Princess?”
“No!” she said sharply.
“As you wish. But he hates you—you know that?”
“He says he loves me.”
Harokas grunted and rolled from the bed. “He wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“And you do?” she asked, slipping into her tunic.
“Sometimes I think I do. What will you do about Chareos
?”
“I will send out riders today.”
“Send the best, Princess.”
“The heroes of Bel-azar will be dead by the end of the week.”
“Perhaps,” he said softly.
Despite its bleak appearance, the land leading to the steppes was teeming with life, and Kiall found himself fascinated by the wonder of the wild. He had spent his life in the valley and knew the habits of deer and wild sheep, but out here there were creatures of rare beauty, and their behavior was sometimes both mystical and comical.
High above them on the fourteenth day of their journey he saw great birds with long rectangular wings swooping and spiraling in the sky. Recognizing them as vultures—but of a type he had not seen before—he spurred his horse to ride alongside Finn, who was half a mile ahead of the group.
Finn reined in and waited for the young man. “Is there a problem?” asked the hunter.
“No. I was watching the vultures. Does it mean something is dying?”
“Not death,” answered Finn, smiling. “Life. They circle like that to find a mate. Watch them closely and you will see the males gliding around the females. Gradually their actions will become like mirror images.”
The vultures soared and wheeled in breathtaking displays.
“Such beauty from creatures of ugliness,” whispered Kiall.
“Why ugliness?” countered Finn. “Because they feed on carrion? They clean the land, Kiall. In many ways they keep it beautiful.”
“Why do they mate in winter? Does the cold not threaten the eggs?”
“No,” Finn replied. “When the female lays, she will sit on the eggs for two months. After they hatch, she will feed the young for a further four months. It is a long period for a bird.”
The questers rode on, crossing streams that rippled down from the mountains, which were swollen with melted snow. Finn caught three large trout, which they cooked for supper on the sixteenth day. He caught them with his hands, which impressed Kiall. The hunter shook his head. “No great skill, Kiall. Even for them it is the mating season,” he said. “They settle down in grooves on the shallow streambed to lay their eggs. They remain still, and if a man is quick and certain, he can ripple his fingers against their sides and flick them from the water.”
As the days passed, more and more wildlife was seen: great crested grebes on shallow lakes; coots; herons in their comical mating dances, leaping on sticklike legs to attract the females; huge black kites swooping, diving, meeting in the air.
Okas withdrew ever more into himself, often riding with his eyes closed, lost in thought. Once he almost fell from the saddle, but Beltzer caught him.
On the afternoon of the seventeenth day Okas moved his pony alongside Chareos. “We must find a hiding place,” he said.
“Why? Are there enemies close?”
“Yes, those, too. But this will be the night of the demons.”
Chareos nodded and rode to Finn. The hunter galloped off toward the west, where rearing rock faces rose from the snow-speckled ground. By dusk the questers were camped in a deep cave on the side of a hill.
They ate in silence seated around a small, flickering fire. Okas forbade any meat to be eaten and sat with head bowed, eyes closed. At last his head came up, and he looked at Chareos.
“This is a night of great peril,” he said softly. “The forces that will come against you are strong in their evil, powerful in their malice. They have been fed with the deaths of many, many people.”
“Tell us of the old man we are to protect,” invited Chareos. Sweat shone on his face, and he could feel the cool breeze of the night on his skin. Watching the swordsman, Kiall felt his fear. Beltzer, too, remained silent, his small round eyes peering intently at Okas.
“His name is Asta Khan, and for many years he was shaman to Tenaka Khan, Lord of the Wolves. When Tenaka … died … he left tribe and traveled—eventually—to Mountains of Moon. Tenaka’s son, Jungir, and his own shaman, have decided it is time for Asta to die. They have sacrificed forty of Asta’s blood kin to feed the spirits and weaken the old man. Tonight the demons will fly.”
“Why is he such a threat to Jungir?” Finn inquired.
“He knows a secret Jungir wishes kept silent. Jungir Khan murdered his father.”
“And that is all?” asked Beltzer.
“Not all,” admitted Okas, “but all I know for certain.”
“Can we defeat these demons?” asked Beltzer. “Can my ax cut them?”
“We shall be entering their world. In that place, yes, they can die. But their powers are very great. You are strong, fat Beltzer, but where we travel it is not strength of body but strength of heart which is important. It is a place of faith and miracles, a place of spirit.”
“How do we go there?” Finn asked.
“You do not go there,” replied Okas. “Two must remain to protect the fleshly forms of those who fly. You, Finn, are best man for this.”
Kiall’s breathing became shallow, and he could feel his heart fluttering like a caged moth. But he remained silent.
“I will go,” declared Chareos, “as will Beltzer.” He looked at Maggrig, then at Kiall. The blond hunter smiled at Kiall, reading his terror.
“I will come with you,” stated Maggrig.
“No,” said Okas. “You will remain. There are enemies who have discovered our trail, and they will come in the night. Your skills with the bow are needed here.”
“Then,” said Kiall, his voice shaking, “I must come?”
“There is no must, my friend,” answered Okas with a gentle smile. “This is a task for ghosts-yet-to-be. Perhaps we can win with only Beltzer, Chareos, and myself.”
“I … I will come,” said Kiall. “I began this quest, and I will walk where the dangers lie.” He swallowed hard.
Chareos reached over and patted his shoulder. “Well said, Kiall.”
“You stick close to me, boy,” Beltzer told Kiall, hefting his ax. “I’ll see you safely home.”
“It is time,” said Okas. “Finn, when we have departed, put out fire and watch trails. With good fortune we return by dawn.” He rose and led the three companions deeper into the cave, where they sat in a circle. Okas began to chant in a hissing tongue that the others could not understand. Listening to the chant, Kiall found his mind spinning. Stars swam before his eyes, and the roar of rushing rivers filled his ears. Then darkness fell, a darkness so complete that all sense of being departed from him.
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 center 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 questers. Beltzer lifted his ax and Chareos and Kiall drew their sabers. 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 questers.
The smoke parted, and a tall figure in black armor 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 questers, 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 his 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 someplace that would supply a killing ground. The bow was not a good night weapon. Distances were hard to judge under moonlight, and 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 that 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, putting 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 their enemies 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, and there was killing ground ahead and to the left. Behind him was a narrow trail that 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.