His limbs trembled. Deresh Karany screeched with laughter, the sound bizarre and insane. 'You can feel it, can't you?' he shouted. 'Where are your knives now, little man? Here is one for you!' The Ipsissimus pulled the throwing knife from the flesh of his face and tossed it towards Waylander. It clattered on the floor close by. Plucking the other blades from his flesh, he casually threw them down. 'Quick, gather them up,' he said. 'I will enjoy watching you use them against the greatest of demons, the Lord of the Pit. Do you feel honoured? Your soul is to be devoured by Anharat himself!'
The air around Waylander vibrated. Terror, pure and undiluted, swept through him, and he felt a desperate need to escape this place.
'Why not run?' mocked Deresh Karany. 'If you are fast enough his wings will not be able to catch you!'
Waylander hefted his sword, anger coming to his aid. He was still unsteady on his feet, but he prepared himself for one last attack.
A dark figure appeared in the rippling wall, then ducked down and stepped into the room. Its skin was black and scaled, its head round, its ears long and pointed. As it entered it raised itself up until it stood more than ten feet tall, its head just below the rafters. Black wings stretched out, touching the walls on either side. Fire burned in the demon's eye sockets and flames flickered from its wide mouth. A sickening odour filled the room. Waylander recognized it. It was the stench of decaying flesh.
'I summoned thee, Anharat,' said Deresh Karany.
'For what purpose, human?' came the response. As it spoke, fire billowed from the gaping mouth, curling up against the skin of its face. The words hung in the cold air, echoing around the rafters.
'To kill my enemy.'
The Demon Lord's burning eyes fastened on Waylander. Ponderously he advanced across the room. As his taloned feet touched the ornate rugs the cloth burst into flame. Smoke rose around the creature.
Waylander flipped the shortsword, catching it by the blade as he prepared to hurl it into the breast of the demon.
The beast paused. Its head arched back and it began to laugh. Flames roared from its mouth, the sound causing the room to tremble. Waylander threw the sword. As it left his hand it burst into flame then flew up to plunge into one of the rafters. The Demon Lord swung to face Deresh Karany. 'Ah, but this is a good moment!' he said. 'I have always loathed humans, Deresh Karany, but you I hold in utter contempt. Did I not warn you that this gateway would be protected? Did I not tell you that only the death of three kings would open the portals? Did you listen? No. Hundreds of my people have been slain, and now you have the effrontery to call upon Anharat to kill a single human.'
'You must obey, Demon!' shouted Deresh Karany. 'I have followed all the ancient rituals. To the last detail. Ten deaths I have given you, and the incantations were perfect. You have no choice but to accept my order.'
'Oh, this is exquisite! You are a skilled sorcerer, Deresh Karany. You know all the laws governing the Summoning. And what, pray, is the prime law?'
'There must be a death. That is the price! And there he is, Anharat. Kill him, and the ritual is complete.'
'And how many times can a man be killed?' asked the Demon Lord, moving slowly towards Deresh Karany until he towered over the Ipsissimus. Waylander stood silently by. Deresh Karany tried to back away. The wall stopped him.
'I don't understand,' he said, his voice shaking. 'Kill him - and go!'
'I cannot kill him, mortal. For he is already dead. His heart no longer beats. His body stands only because a magicker laid a spell upon it.'
'No. This cannot be!' shouted Deresh. 'You are trying to trick me!'
'The prime law,' said Anharat. 'There must be a life.' His huge arm snaked out. Sharp talons crunched through Deresh Karany's body, hauling him into the air. As Waylander watched, the Demon Lord tore open the sorcerer's chest, ripping out his heart. Yet still Deresh struggled. 'Even better,' said Anharat. 'You have mastered the art of regeneration. You will wish you had not. For now it may take a hundred years for you to die.' A blast of flame roared from the demon's mouth, engulfing the beating heart in his hand. Ponderously he turned and moved back to the rippling wall. Deresh Karany was still struggling as Anharat ducked down and stepped through.
As the portal closed Waylander heard one last despairing scream.
Then there was silence.
Kysumu had never fought better in his life. He was the representative of humanity in a battle to save his world, and pride flooded his muscles with a power he had never before experienced. This was what he had been waiting for his entire life. To be the instrument of good against evil, to be the hero. He was unstoppable, and fought beside the Riaj-nor with a chilling ferocity.
At first they clove deep into the superior ranks of the Kriaz-nor, driving towards the great arch. It was a curious sight and, even as he battled, Kysumu found it wondrous. Above him the sky was lit by moon and stars, and yet sunshine was beaming through the gateway, casting a golden light upon the stark ruins of Kuan-Hador. Intermittently dark-blue lightning would ripple across the opening, filling the air with an acrid smell.
The Riaj-nor had hacked and cut their way forward. Four warriors burst through the Kriaz-nor lines and sprinted towards the gateway. A dozen Kriaz-nor gave chase. As the grey-garbed warriors reached the portal they hurled their blades towards the golden light. As the swords crossed the opening they flared with a brilliance that dazzled the eye. Blue lightning tore across the huge arch. To Kysumu it seemed fractionally darker than before, but still the sunlight from another world streamed through. Unarmed now, the four Riaj-nor had turned and flung themselves at their enemies. They were cut down in moments.
That had been almost an hour ago.
Now the lightning was pale, and within its flare Kysumu could see white streaks. Only around thirty of the Riaj-nor were still fighting, and though they had taken a terrible toll on the enemy they were still outnumbered two to one. Ren Tang had fallen moments before, cut down by two Kriaz-nor. As he fell, his chest pierced, he reached out and pulled one of the warriors in close, ripping out his throat with his teeth.
The sound of thunder rumbled from some distance away, as a storm broke over the Bay of Carlis. The wind changed and a light rain began to fall over the ruins. Kysumu's grey robes were saturated with blood, and now the rain made the ground slippery beneath his feet. Yet still he fought with controlled frenzy. Two more Riaj-nor forced a way past the enemy, running at the gateway and throwing their swords towards it. As the blades disappeared the white streaks faded, the lightning becoming a blue so deep that the sunlight could no longer shine through. Three Kriaz-nor fighters peeled back from the battle, killing the unarmed warriors, and taking up positions directly in front of the gateway, ready to cut down any who broke through.
Song Xiu killed two warriors, then darted through the gap. Kysumu ducked under a slashing blade, disembowelled the wielder, then ran after him. But before they could reach the gateway a group of Kriaz-nor cut them off. Back to back Kysumu and Song Xiu struggled to defend themselves. The remaining Riaj-nor swept forward to aid them. Many were killed.
Only a dozen made it, forming a defensive circle. They were exhausted now.
'It would take no more than one - maybe two blades,' said Song Xiu, during a momentary lull in the fighting. He swore and cast an angry glance at the stone arch. They were so close now that their faces, and those of their enemies, were bathed in blue light. One warrior tried to fling his sword over the heads of the Kriaz-nor. It spun towards the gateway, but an enemy warrior leapt and caught it by the hilt. The blade shivered and broke.
Song Xiu stared venomously at the remaining Kriaz-nor, who were standing now some ten feet away. They were equally weary. 'One last charge,' said Song Xiu. A movement caught Kysumu's eye. He glanced to the left.
Low to the ground, moving behind a ruined wall, was a crawling figure. Kysumu saw the edge of a wolfskin jerkin. Suddenly Yu Yu Liang surged to his feet, sprinting towards the gateway. The three Kriaz-nor stationed there ran to bl
ock his way.
Yu Yu leapt at them, his sword cleaving through the air.
'Now!' shouted Song Xiu.
The Riaj-nor charged. Kysumu lost sight of Yu Yu and joined Song Xiu and the others. They threw themselves at the enemy. The Kriaz-nor did not give ground, nor could the weary attackers force them back.
The battle was being fought as if in a dream, the movements of the warriors slow and sluggish. Finally both sides fell back and stared malevolently at each other. There were only eight attackers still standing, and fourteen Kriaz-nor.
In the lull Kysumu looked around for Yu Yu. He knew what he would see.
His body lay close to the gateway. His sword arm had been severed. The Rajnee blade lay beside it. Kysumu felt sick with grief. Then he saw the body twitch. The Kriaz-nor guarding the gateway had moved forward to stand with their comrades. None of them could see Yu Yu.
Kysumu watched as Yu Yu rolled to his side. There was a ghastly wound in his belly, and his entrails had spilled out. Even so, he began to crawl, leaving a bloody smear upon the rocks. Reaching out with his left hand, Yu Yu gathered up the fallen sword. He groaned as he did so. One of the Kriaz-nor swung round. Yu Yu flung the blade into the gateway.
There was a searing burst of brightness, accompanied by a high-pitched hum that made the ground vibrate. The blue lightning ceased to crackle. Instead a silver sheen covered the gateway.
The Kriaz-nor turned suddenly and raced towards the arch. Thirteen made it through, but as the last warrior crossed it the silver became grey rock. At first it seemed that the warrior had merely stopped in the gateway, but then his body slid down the stone and flopped to its back. He had been cut in half.
Kysumu ran to where Yu Yu lay. Gently he turned him. Yu Yu's eyes were open.
'Oh, my friend,' said Kysumu, tears flowing, 'you closed the gateway.'
Yu Yu could not hear him, and Kysumu gazed down into the dead face. He hugged Yu Yu to him and sat rocking back and forth. Song Xiu moved to his side and sat down. For a while he was silent as Kysumu wept. Then he spoke. 'He was a good man,' he said.
Kysumu kissed Yu Yu's brow, then laid him back on the ground. 'It makes no sense to me,' said Kysumu, brushing away his tears. 'He could have lived. He didn't want to be the pria-shath. He didn't want to fight demons and die. So why? Why did he throw away his life?'
'He did not throw it away, human. He gave it. For you, for me, for this land. Why do you think he was chosen? If the Source had wanted the best swordsman he might have picked you. But He didn't. He wanted a man. An ordinary man.' Song Xiu chuckled. 'A ditch-digger with a stolen sword. And look what that ditch-digger achieved.'
'It just makes me sad,' said Kysumu, reaching down and stroking Yu Yu's face.
'It makes me proud,' said Song Xiu. 'I shall find his soul in the Void, and we will walk together.'
Kysumu looked into the warrior's face. Song Xiu's hair was grey, his face ageing. 'What is happening to you?'
'I am dying,' said Song Xiu. 'We are out of time.'
Kysumu swung round and saw that the other Riaj-nor were all stretched out on the ground, unmoving. 'Why?' asked Kysumu.
'We should have died thousands of years ago,' Song Xiu told him, his voice no more than a whisper. 'We knew when we returned that there would be only days left to us. Yu Yu Liang made it worth the price we paid.'
Song Xiu lay down. His hair was white now, the skin of his face as dry as parchment. Kysumu moved to him. 'I am so sorry,' he said. 'I... misjudged you. All of you. I have been a fool. Forgive me!'
The Riaj-nor did not answer. A breeze blew across the ruins. Song Xiu's body shivered and turned to dust.
Kysumu sat for a while, lost in thoughts and bittersweet memories. Then he took his sword and dug out a grave for Yu Yu Liang. He covered it with stones, then sheathed his weapon and walked away from the ruins of Kuan-Hador.
Waylander gathered up his crossbow, and his knives, and moved down the stairs to the lower library. Keeva was sitting there, but there was no sign of the two warriors.
They left,' said Keeva, rising and putting her arms around the Grey Man. 'How are you feeling?'
'Like death,' he told her, with a wry grin.
'I heard the. . . demon,' she said. 'I have never been more terrified. Not even when Camran took me from the village.'
'That seems a long time ago now,' he replied. Taking her hand Waylander made his way down to the terrace steps where he found Ustarte waiting.
'The gateway is closed,' she told him. 'Yu Yu Liang died to seal it. Kysumu survived.'
Waylander glanced around him, seeking the body of Eldicar Manushan. 'He is dead,' said Ustarte.
Truly dead?' queried Waylander. 'I would have thought the fall would have killed him.'
'He had some regenerative powers. They could not withstand being struck by a bolt of lightning.'
'So it is over,' said Waylander wearily. That is good. Where is Matze?'
'He is still tied in the cellar. Keeva can release him. You and I have to go to the stables.'
'Why there?'
'I have one last gift for you, my friend.'
Waylander smiled. 'I can feel death approaching, Ustarte. My blood is flowing sluggishly and your spell is wearing off. I do not think this is a time for gifts.'
'Trust me, Grey Man.'
Taking his arm she led him back into the palace.
Keeva ran down to the cellar to free Matze Chai. The old man was naked and tied to a chair. He looked up as she entered, and stared at her quizzically.
'I am here to free you,' she told him. 'The Grey Man has killed the sorcerer.'
'Of course he has,' said Matze. 'And what, pray, possessed you to come to me without bearing any clothing for me to wear? Does a little peril make people lose all sense of good manners? Untie me, then go to my rooms and fetch a suitable robe and some soft shoes.'
Keeva shook her head and smiled. 'My apologies, Lord,' she said, with a bow. 'Is there anything else you require?'
Matze nodded, 'If any of my servants have survived you can tell them to prepare a sweet tisane.'
The dawn was breaking as Keeva made her way to the stables. She found Ustarte sitting on a stone bench under a willow tree. The two Kriaz-nor warriors were beside her. There was no sign of the Grey Man. 'Where is he?' she asked.
'He is gone, Keeva. I opened a portal for him.'
'Where did you send him?'
'Where he always wanted to be.'
Keeva sat down. A great sadness settled upon her. 'It is hard to believe,' she said, 'that there is no Grey Man. He seemed somehow . . . immortal, unbeatable.'
'And he is, my dear,' Ustarte told her. 'He is only gone from this world. Waylander will never truly die. Men like him are eternal. Somewhere, even as we speak, there is another Grey Man, preparing to face his destiny.' Keeva glanced at the two warriors, then back at the priestess. 'And what of you? Where will you go?'
'We do not belong here, Keeva. Now that I am no longer using most of my power to thwart Deresh Karany I have enough energy to take us home.'
'You will go back to the land of Deresh Karany?'
'The fight is over for you - but not for me. I cannot rest while the evil that spawned Deresh Karany still thrives.' Keeva turned to the warriors. 'And you will help her?'
'I think that we will,' said Three-swords.
Epilogue
Using a stiff broom Tanya swept the dust from the hard-packed clay floor. As much rose around her as was pushed out through the door. Dakeyras had carved designs in the clay, and around the hearth he had created a mosaic with coloured stones from the streambed. Last year's crop had barely supplied them with enough coin to last the year, but Dakeyras had promised that with the first profits from the farm a real floor would be laid.
Tanya was looking forward to such a time, though, as she gazed upon the mosaic, she felt a stab of anticipated regret. She had been pregnant with the twins when Dakeyras had returned from the stream with the sack of stones. Six-year-old
Gellan had been with him, full of excitement. 'I found all the red stones, Mama. I picked them all,' he said. 'Isn't that right, Father?'
'You did well, Gil,' said Dakeyras.
'You also soaked your new leggings,' Tanya told the boy.
'You can't take stones from a streambed without getting wet,' said Dakeyras.
'That's right, Mama. And it was fun getting wet. I almost caught a fish with my hands.' Tanya gazed into the boy's bright-blue eyes. He grinned at her and her heart melted. 'All right,' she said, 'you are forgiven. But why do we need a sack of stones?'
For the next two days Dakeyras and Gellan had worked on the rectangular mosaic. Tanya remembered it fondly; the laughter and the joy, Gellan squealing with delight, Dakeyras, his face smeared with clay, tickling him. And when they had finished she recalled them stripping off their clothing and having a race to the stream, which Dakeyras let the boy win. Those were good days.
Tanya put down her broom and stood in the doorway. Gellan was out in the meadow with his wooden sword, the twins were asleep in their crib and Dakeyras had gone out hunting for venison. The day was quiet, the sun bright in a sky dotted with puffballs of white cloud. They looked like sheep grazing on a field of blue, she thought.
It would be good to have venison. Supplies were low, and though the town storekeeper extended them credit Tanya was loath to fall further into debt.