Quest for Lost Heroes (27 page)

'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.'

'You have decided to die then, lord?' whispered Oshi, blinking back tears.

'I do not think that even I can hope to take on the Nadir nation and survive, Oshi. I am pledged to kill Jungir Khan. If necessary I will walk into his palace and do it before all of his generals. Do you believe I can walk away from such a deed?'

'You could kill him with an arrow,' ventured Oshi.

'Indeed. But then he would not know for what crime he is slain. No, it will be with a sword. But first we must ascertain the fate of Mai-syn. Once that is accomplished, we will find a ship for you to return home.'

'I could not leave you, lord . . . Chien. What would I do? What would you do without me? We will kill the Khan together.'

'Someone must take the news back to the Emperor. I will also give you letters to my wives. You will execute my will.'

'You have it all planned then?' asked Oshi softly.

'As much as can be considered at this time. It is all subject to change. Now let us ride, and seek a good camping-site.'

They made camp in a old, dry river-bed, lighting a fire against the vertical bank and eating a light meal of dried fruit. Chien was in no mood for conversation. Unrolling the blanket from behind his saddle, he wrapped it around his shoulders and settled down.

'No, lord, here,' said Oshi. 'I have pushed aside the pebbles and there is soft sand beneath. I have bunched some for a pillow. You will be more comfortable.'

Chien moved to the place Oshi had prepared; it was indeed softer, and away from the cold wind. He settled down to sleep. He dreamt of home in the ivory-white palace, with its terraced gardens and landscaped streams and waterfalls. It was a place of tranquillity. But he awoke sharply when he heard the sound of boots on the pebbles of the river-bed. Rolling from his blanket, he rose. The moon was high, full and bright. Kubai stood staring at him with a wide smile on his face, beside him four Nadir warriors. Oshi awoke and huddled against the rocks.

'Did you think I could not count?' asked Kubai. 'I searched for you among the bodies. You know why?'

'Pray tell me,' said Chien, folding his hands across his chest.

'Because of him,' he replied, pointing at Oshi. 'His body was nowhere. So I examined the corpse we took to be yours. There was a gash on the face, but not enough to fool me.'

'Your intelligence staggers me,' said Chien. 'You are quite correct. I took you for an evil-smelling, stupid, treacherous barbarian. I was wrong; you are not stupid.'

Kubai laughed. 'You cannot make me angry, yellow man. You know why? Because tonight I will hear you scream. I will take your skin an inch at a time.' Kubai drew his sword and advanced but Chien stood waiting, arms still folded. 'Are you not even going to fight, yellow man?"

Chien's arm flicked out and Kubai stopped in his tracks, the ebony handle of the throwing-knife jutting out from his throat. Chien leapt and his foot cracked against Kubai's head, cartwheeling him from his feet. The other Nadir rushed in. Ducking under a sweeping blade Chien stabbed his hand, fingers extended, to the man's midriff. The warrior doubled over, all breath gone from his lungs. Sidestepping a thrust, Chien hammered the edge of his palm into a second warrior's throat. Hurling himself forward, he rolled to his shoulder on the pebbles and came to his feet in one smooth motion. The remaining two Nadir came at him more carefully. Chien's hand snaked out and one of them crumpled to the ground with a dagger through his eye. The last warrior backed away, but Oshi reared up behind him, plunging a thin dagger through his heart.

'You must not take risks,' Chien told him. 'You are too old.'

'I am sorry, lord.'

Kubai had pulled the blade from his throat and was kneeling on the stream-bed, blood gushing to his goatskin jerkin. Chien knelt before him and gathered his blade.

'In case it is of any interest,' he said, 'your lungs are filling with blood. It is said that a man can experience the most delightful visions at such a time. You, on the other hand, deserve no such joy.'

Chien slammed the blade into Kubai's heart and pushed the body on to its back.

'I was having the most wonderful dream,' said Chien. 'I was in the gardens at home, and - you recall the plant we tried to train by the dry stone wall at the south gate?' Oshi nodded. 'Well, it was in bloom, and the flowers were quite the most exquisite shades of purple. And there was a fragrance I recall that put my roses to shame. I wonder if that purple plant ever took root?'

'I would imagine so, lord. You have a fine touch with flowers.'

'It pleases me to think so.'

A groan came from the Nadir Chien had winded and the Kiatze warrior stood and hammered a kick to the man's temple. His neck cracked and Oshi winced.

'What was I saying? Oh yes, flowers. This land could do with more flowers. Perhaps then the Nadir would become interested more in poetry than war. Saddle the horses, Oshi. This ugly place is making me melancholy.'

*

For three weeks the questors travelled only by night, hiding by day in woods or jagged hollows which stretched across the land. The journey in darkness was taken with great care, as the land descended in giant steps from rocky plateau to rocky plateau. The trails were scree-covered and treacherous, and the questors were often forced to dismount and lead their horses.

Four times Okas warned them of hunters, and twice the hidden questors saw bands of Nadren riders searching for sign. But Finn had obscured their trail and the hunters passed on.

Water was scarce on the Steppes and they were compelled to take wide detours to seek rock pools in the plateaux. Most of these were guarded and many times the questors were forced to move on, their throats dry. What little water they carried was used to rinse the dust from the nostrils and mouths of their mounts.

'Our enemies have all the advantages,' said Finn, as they made their third dry camp in as many days. 'They know we cannot travel without water, and they have stopped trying to track us. Now they guard all the wells and pools.'

'Not all,' said Okas. 'There is rock tank an hour's ride from here. The water is shallow, but good to drink.'

'Why is it not guarded?' Chareos asked.

'It is, but not by men.'

'If there are more demons,' croaked Beltzer, Td just as soon suck grass for another day.'

'Not demons,' said Okas. 'Lions. But do not fear; I have a way with beasts.'

With a half moon to guide them the questors set off across the plateau, their horses' hooves muffled by cloth shoes. The trail wound down at first, then cut to the right, rising steeply. The horses grew increasingly nervous as the smell of lion droppings filled the air. Okas led the way on foot and the trail opened to a wide bowl-shaped arena. They saw eight lions by the pool - one male, three females and four cubs. The females rose first, baring their fangs. Okas began to chant softly; he walked slowly towards the beasts and sat some ten paces from them. The sound of his rhythmic song echoed in the rocks and a lioness padded towards him, circling him, her tail thrashing. She pushed her face against Okas' shoulder and head, then settled down beside him. The other lions ignored the old man.