“All men die, Great King. And my own actions led to my death. I bear no ill will toward anyone. But if … when … you reach paradise, speak a word on my behalf to the gatekeeper there.”
“I shall.” Taking up his golden ax, Kolmisai, the warrior turned to Druss. “Are you ready now, my brother?”
“I was born ready,” grunted Druss, forcing himself to his feet.
“You will see the bridge about a hundred paces that way,” said Shaoshad. “It spans the abyss of fire. If you fall, it will be for an eternity, then the flames will devour you. The bridge is wide at the start, maybe fifty feet, but then it narrows. You must draw the bear to you onto the wide section to allow Oshikai to slip past.”
“No,” said Oshikai, “we will face it together.”
“Trust me, Great King, and follow my bidding. When the bear dies, Chakata will know you are coming. Then he will slay Shul-sen. It is vital that you cross the bridge to the dark place before that.”
“In the meantime I dance with the bear and try not to kill it?” queried Druss.
“Delay for as long as you can,” advised Shaoshad, “and do not look into its eyes. You will see only death there.” The shaman closed his eyes and raised his hands. The air around Oshikai cracked with bright, flickering lights. The great king’s image faded, becoming translucent and then transparent. Then it was gone.
Shaoshad opened his eyes, then clapped his hands with glee. “Arrogant I may be,” he chortled, “but skilled am I!” His smile faded, and he turned to Druss. “When you approach the bridge, Oshikai must be close behind you. Otherwise the bear will sense both spirits. Once the beast is engaged, Great King, you must slip by him and run. Make no sound. Do not call out for Shul-sen; you will sense her when she is close.”
“I understand,” came the voice of Oshikai. “You move on, Druss, and I will follow.”
Taking up his ax, Druss led the way. His legs were heavy, his arms weary. Never in his life, not even in his years in the prison dungeon, had he felt such a sense of physical weakness. Fear rose strong within him. His foot struck a stone, and he stumbled.
The sound of wings beating came to him. Swiveling, he saw the last of the bat creatures swooping down toward him, its black wings wide, its gray-taloned hands outstretched. Snaga flashed up, smashing through the thin neck, but not before the talons had scored across his face, ripping open his cheek. The creature’s body struck him, toppling him from his feet. He felt the hand of Oshikai grasp him by the wrist, hauling him upright.
“You are exhausted, my friend,” said Oshikai. “Rest here. I will try to slip by the bear.”
“No, I will see it through,” grunted Druss. “Do not concern yourself with me.”
He staggered on, rounding a bend in the black cavern. Ahead of them an awesome bridge arced across a chasm. Druss stepped onto it and glanced over the edge. It seemed to him that he was staring down into infinity. It made him dizzy, and he swiftly stepped back onto the black stone. Holding Snaga in both hands, he walked on. From there he could not see the far side of the bridge. “It must be miles across,” he whispered, a sense of despair filling him.
“One step at a time, my friend,” said Oshikai.
Druss stumbled on through a haze of bone-numbing exhaustion. A cold wind blew across the chasm, and Druss could smell acrid smoke on it. On he struggled, forcing his body through each weary step.
After what seemed like hours they reached the midpoint of the bridge. The far side could now be seen, a towering hill of black rock set against a slate-gray sky. A figure moved on the bridge, and Druss narrowed his eyes, straining to see it. It moved slowly on its hind legs, mighty arms stretched wide. As it neared, Druss saw that Shaoshad’s description had been correct in every detail: two heads, one a bear and the other a serpent. What Shaoshad had not conveyed was the sense of evil that radiated from the demon. It struck Druss like the numbing claws of a winter blizzard, colossal in its power, dwarfing the strength of man.
The bridge had narrowed to less than ten feet wide. The creature coming slowly toward them seemed to fill the gap.
“May the gods of stone and water smile upon you, Druss!” whispered Oshikai.
Druss stepped forward. The beast gave a terrible roar, thunder deep and deafening. The wall of sound struck the axman like a blow, pushing him back.
The beast spoke: “We are the Great Bear, devourers of souls. Your death will be agonizing, mortal!”
“In your dreams, you whoreson!” said Druss.
“Bring him back!” shouted Sieben. “You can see he is dying!”
“In a good cause,” said Nosta Khan. Sieben looked at the little man and saw the malevolence in his eyes.
“You treacherous cur!” he hissed, scrambling to his feet and launching himself at the man. Nosta Khan threw up his right hand, and needles of fire sliced into Sieben’s head. He screamed and fell back, yet even through the pain he scrabbled for the knife at his hip. Nosta Khan spoke a single word, and Sieben’s arm froze.
“Don’t do this to him,” begged Sieben. “He deserves better.”
“Deserving has nothing to do with it, you fool. He chose to walk in hell; I did not force him. But he has not yet accomplished what he set out to do. If he dies, so be it. Now be silent!” Sieben tried to speak, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The pain subsided, but he was unable to move.
The beast spoke, the voice issuing from both heads: “Come to me and know death, Druss!”
Druss hefted his ax and moved forward. With astonishing speed the Great Bear dropped to all fours and charged. Snaga flashed up and then down with sickening force, plunging between the two heads, smashing through bone and sinew. The beast’s body struck the axman hard, hurling him from his feet. Losing his grip on his ax, Druss skidded across the bridge on his back, his legs slipping over the chasm. Rolling to his belly, he scrabbled at the black stone, halting his slide, then hauled himself back onto the bridge. The Great Bear had reared up, black blood gouting from between its heads. Druss surged upright, charging the beast. A taloned arm swept down, ripping through his jerkin and scoring his flesh with the pain of fire. Reaching up, he grabbed Snaga’s haft and wrenched the weapon clear. Blood spurted over his face, burning like acid. The snake mouth opened, spewing a stream of venom that covered his jerkin, bursting into flame. Ignoring the pain, Druss hammered Snaga into the snake neck, severing it. The head fell clear, bouncing on the black stone as smoke spewed from the mutilated neck. The Great Bear lashed out once more. Druss was thrown clear and landed heavily but rolled to his feet with ax in hand. The beast tottered forward. The venom on Druss’ jerkin burned through to the flesh beneath, and with a cry of rage and pain he threw himself at the mortally wounded guardian. The talons swept down, but the speed of Druss’ charge carried him under the blow, and his shoulder hit the beast in the chest. The Great Bear staggered back, then fell from the bridge. Druss crawled to the edge, watching the body spiral down and down.
Sinking to the black stone, Druss rolled to his back. Exhaustion overtook him, and he longed for the bliss of sleep. “Do not close your eyes,” came the voice of Shaoshad. Druss blinked and saw the little man kneeling beside him. Shaoshad touched his slender hands to Druss’ wounds, and the pain subsided. “Sleep here is death,” said the shaman.
Oshikai ran on, crossing the bridge at speed and reaching the other side just as the Great Bear fell into the chasm. Ahead of him the black hill beckoned. Swiftly he scaled the flanks of the hill, his thoughts reaching out to Shul-sen. At first there was nothing, but then, ahead, he saw a rectangular black stone doorway set into the hillside. And he felt the presence of Shul-sen’s spirit beyond it. Oshikai pushed hard, but the door did not give. Stepping back, he struck the stone with his golden ax. Sparks flew from the stone, and a gaping crack appeared. Twice more Oshikai thundered Kolmisai against the stone. On the third stroke the door fell into four pieces.
Beyond it was a dark tunnel. As Oshikai stepped forward, a black lion with eyes of
bright fire came hurtling out of the darkness. Kolmisai leapt to meet it, the ax blade ripping into the creature’s chest, and with a terrible cry it fell to Oshikai’s left. The king swung and slashed the ax through its thick neck, beheading it. Lifting the head by the mane, Oshikai strode forward. The eyes of bright fire were fading, but still they cast a dim light on the walls of the tunnel.
Oshikai moved on. A whisper of movement came from his left. Spinning toward the sound, the king threw the demon head. Huge serpentine jaws snapped down on it, the bones of the skull splitting, brains oozing out through the rows of crocodile teeth in the long snout. The lizard beast opened its jaws and shook its head, spitting out the broken skull. In that moment Oshikai leapt forward to smash Kolmisai into the thick, scaled head, the golden blade shearing through the bone. The beast slumped to the ground, gave one low groan, and died.
In darkness now, Oshikai moved forward with one hand on the wall. “Shul-sen!” he called. “Can you hear me?”
“I am here,” came her voice. “Oh, my lord, is it you?” The sound came from ahead and to the left. Oshikai crossed the tunnel floor and found a sleek doorway. Blindly he struck at it; the door splintered and gave way. All was pitch darkness as he stepped into the room beyond.
A slender hand touched his face. “Is it truly you?” she whispered.
“Truly,” he answered, his voice thick with emotion. His left arm drew her to him, and dropping his head, he held her close, his limbs shaking. “My love, the soul of my heart,” he whispered. Their lips touched, and he felt Shul-sen’s tears mingle with his own. For a moment only he forgot the perils and the dangers still to come.
Then, from the tunnel, came sounds of stealthy movement. Taking her hand, Oshikai backed out through the doorway. The sounds were coming from his right. Oshikai turned left and, still holding to Shul-sen, moved deeper into the tunnel. After a while the floor began to rise. Higher and higher they climbed. A faint light could be seen above them now, seeping through a crack in the rocks of the hillside.
Oshikai paused in his flight and waited.
A lion beast with eyes of flame padded into sight, and with a great roar it charged. Oshikai leapt to meet it, Kolmisai sweeping down and cleaving its skull. The beast sagged to the ground.
Oshikai climbed to the crack in the rocks and struck it with his ax. The crack opened to two feet wide, stones falling from it and showering the king. A boulder was lodged in the crack, and stretching up, he pushed at it. The boulder rolled clear. Climbing through the gap, he turned and reached down for Shul-sen. The mossy ground beneath him shivered. Oshikai was thrown to his left and almost lost hold of his ax. What he had taken to be moss below his feet quivered and lifted from the earth, and he was thrown into the air. The whole of the hillside seemed to shudder as two immense wings unfolded. The brow of the hill rose up, becoming the head of a giant bat. Oshikai clung to the wing as the colossal creature rose into the air. Higher and higher it flew out over the bridge and the bottomless pit. Oshikai sank his fingers deep into the fur and hung on. The head of the bat twisted around, and its huge mouth opened. Within the darkness of its maw there shone a face that he recognized.
“How do you like my new form, Great King?” sneered Chakata. “Is it not magnificent?”
Oshikai did not answer but began to crawl toward the creature’s neck. “Shall I tell you how many times I have enjoyed Shul-sen? Shall I describe the pleasures I have forced her to undergo?” The king moved closer. The face of Chakata smiled. The bat banked suddenly, and Oshikai began to fall, then lashed out with his ax, burying it deep into the black wing. Slowly he hauled himself closer to the neck, dragging the ax clear and hammering it again through the fur, inching his way toward his enemy.
“Don’t be a fool, Oshikai!” shouted Chakata. “If you kill me, you will fall with me. You will never see Shul-sen again!”
Slowly, inexorably the king moved onward. The bat flipped over into a backward dive, then rolled and beat its wings, trying to dislodge the tiny figure. But Oshikai clung on. Closer and closer he came to the head. The bat’s jaws snapped at him, but he rolled wide of them. Dragging clear his ax, he dealt a mighty blow to the creature’s neck. Black blood gouted from the wound. Twice more he struck. Suddenly the bat’s wings folded, and the body began to plummet toward the bridge far below. Oshikai continued to hammer his blade into the half-severed neck, cleaving bone and sinew. The head fell clear, the dead beast spiraling down toward the pit.
Determined not to die alongside such vermin, Oshikai threw himself from the corpse.
Far below the naked Shul-sen had clambered free of the tunnel, and she stood now watching the epic battle in the gray skies above. Now free of the spells Chakata had woven, she felt her power returning. Instantly she clothed herself in a shirt and leggings of silver silk and a cloud-white cloak. Pulling her cloak from her shoulders, she spoke the five words of the eleventh spell. Then she hurled the cloak high into the air. It flew on, spinning wildly, a wheel of white cloth glistening against the smoke-gray sky.
Shul-sen stood with hand outstretched, directing the cloak with all the power she could muster. The dead creature that had once been Chakata plunged down into the abyss. Oshikai continued to fall, but the cloak soared up toward him, enveloping his body. For a moment only, the fall was halted, but then he plunged on with the cloak around him. Shul-sen cried out, the cloak flared open, and Oshikai’s rapid descent slowed. The cloak floated down to the bridge, and Oshikai jumped clear. Shul-sen ran down the hillside toward him, arms outstretched. Dropping his ax, he went to meet her, drawing her into a tight embrace. For a long moment he held her thus, then drew back, and she saw tears on his cheeks.
“I have searched for so long,” he said. “I had begun to believe I would never find you.”
“But you did, my lord,” she whispered, kissing his lips and tear-stained cheeks.
For a long time they stood, holding each other close. Then he took her hand and led her to where Druss lay on the bridge. Oshikai knelt beside him. “By all that is sacred, I never met a man like you, Druss. I pray that we meet again.”
“Not here, though, eh?” grunted Druss. “Perhaps you could choose somewhere more … hospitable.”
Two glowing figures appeared on the bridge, with light blazing around them. Druss squinted and shaded his eyes as the figures came closer. There was no threat from them, and Oshikai rose to meet them.
“It is time,” came a gentle voice.
“You can take us both,” said Oshikai.
“No. Only you.”
“Then I will not come.”
The first of the glowing figures swung toward the woman. “You are not ready, Shul-sen. You carry too much that is dark within you. All that was good came from your union with this man; the only selfless acts you committed were for him. Twice now he has refused paradise. This third refusal will be final … we will come for him no more.”
“Give me a moment with him,” she said. “Alone.”
The glowing figures floated away some fifty paces. Shul-sen approached Oshikai. “I will not leave you,” he said. “Not again.”
Reaching up, she cupped her hand around his neck, drawing his head down into a long, lingering kiss. When at last they separated, she stroked his handsome face and gave a wistful smile. “Would you deny me paradise, my love?” she asked him.
“What do you mean?”
“If you refuse them now, you will never see the land of heavenly dreams. And if you do not, then how can I? By refusing them, you sentence us to walk the Void forever.”
Drawing her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers tenderly. “But I have waited so long for you. I could not bear another parting.”
“And yet you must,” she said, forcing a smile. “We are united, Oshikai. We will be again. But when next I see you, it will be under blue skies, beside whispering streams. Go now and wait for me.”
“I love you,” he said. “You are the stars and moon to me.”
Pulling away fr
om him, she turned to the glowing figures. “Take him,” she said. “Let him know joy.” As they drew closer, she looked hard into the shining face of the first of the men. “Tell me, can I earn a place beside him?”
“What you have done here is a step toward it, Shul-sen. You know where we are. The journey will be long, and there will be many calls upon you. Travel with Shaoshad. He, too, has much to learn.”
The second of the men floated alongside Druss, laying a golden hand on his body. All his wounds closed, and Druss felt new strength coursing through him.
Then, in an instant, they were gone, and Oshikai with them. As Shul-sen fell to her knees, her long, dark hair falling over her face, Shaoshad moved to her side. “We will find him, my lady. Together. And great will be the joy when we do.”
Shul-sen gave a deep, shuddering sigh. “Then let us be away,” she said, rising to her feet. Druss rose also.
“I wish I could help you,” he said.
Taking his hand, she kissed it. “I knew you were the one,” she told him. “You are like him in so many ways. Go back now to the world you know.”
Her hand touched his head, and darkness swallowed him.
11
DRUSS AWOKE TO see the dawn sunlight shining through the window of the tomb. Never had he been happier to witness the birth of a new day. Sieben moved alongside him, and Nosta Khan edged forward, blocking the sunlight.
“Speak!” said the shaman. “Did you succeed?”
“Aye,” muttered Druss, sitting up. “They were united.”
“Did you ask about the Eyes of Alchazzar?”
“No.”
“What?” stormed the shaman. “Then what was the purpose of this insane journey?”
Ignoring him, Druss stood and walked to where Talisman lay sleeping. Laying a huge hand on the young man’s shoulder, Druss called to him.
Talisman’s dark eyes opened. “Did we win?” he asked.
“We won, laddie, after a fashion.” Quietly Druss told him about the appearance of the angels and the second separation.
The Legend of the Deathwalker Page 29