Gemmell, David - Drenai 09 - Hero In The Shadows

by David Gemmell

  Ustarte returned to the table, her heavy red silk gown rustling as she moved. The dark-eyed, slender Corvidal rose and drew back her chair. She glanced into his gentle face and smiled her thanks as she sat down. How could she tell Menias that none of the others had survived, that she had felt their death even from beyond the gateway. 'I cannot just leave these people to the fate awaiting them.'

  They sat in silence once more. Then Prial spoke. 'The gateways are opening. The killers in the mist have already been seen. The Kriaz-nor will follow soon. The puny weapons of this world will not stop them, Ustarte. I have no wish to view the horrors to come.'

  'And yet the people of this world defeated them three thousand years ago,' she said.

  'They had greater weapons then,' said Menias, his voice deep and low.

  She felt the frustration in him, and the anger. 'Where did they gain the knowledge for such weapons?' she countered. 'And where are those weapons now?'

  'How can we know?' put in Corvidal. 'The legends speak of fantastic gods, demons and heroes. There is no history of that period in this world. Only fable.'

  'And yet there are clues,' said Ustarte. 'All the legends speak of a war among the gods. That suggests to me that there was discord in Kuan-Hador, and that at least some of them sided with humanity. How else could they have created the swords of light? How else could they have won? Yes, we have failed in our attempt to prevent the opening of the gates, and we have failed so far in our search to discover what happened to the weapons humanity used to win the first war. However, we must go on.'

  'It is too late for this world, Ustarte,' said Prial. 'I say we should use the last of the power to open a gateway.'

  Ustarte considered his words, then shook her head. 'What power remains in me I will use to aid those who will fight the enemy. I will not run.'

  'And who will fight?' asked Menias. 'Who will stand against the Kriaz-norl The Duke and his soldiers? They will be cut down - or worse. They will be captured and Joined. Other nobles will be seduced by promises of riches or extended life, or power within the new order. Humans are so easily corrupted.'

  'I think the Grey Man will fight,' she said.

  'One human?' asked the astonished Menias. 'We risk our lives because of your faith in one human?'

  'There will be more than one,' she said. 'There is another clue that links the legends. All the stories speak of the return of the heroes. They die, and yet people believe they will come again when the need is upon the land. It is my belief that those who aided humanity subtly Joined the heroes they used, so that when the evil returned their descendants would have the power to combat it.'

  'With respect, Great One,' said Corvidal, 'that is a hope not a belief. There is not a shred of true evidence to substantiate such a hypothesis.'

  'It is more than a hope, Corvidal. We know the power of Joining for that is how we exist. We also know that our rulers ensure that no Joining can ever sire - or bear -children. They dare not risk creating beings who could decide their own destiny. But I think this is what the Ancients did, enhancing their human allies and allowing the talents to be passed from generation to generation. We see it around us even now. Nadir shamen who can meld man and wolf into fearsome creatures. Source Priests whose spirits can soar and whose powers can heal terrible diseases. We know from our studies that before the coming of the Ancients mankind had few of these gifts. The Ancients imbued certain members of the human race with them. The Ancients told their allies that, in times to come, if the evil returned, these powers would flower again. Hence the legends of the return of kings and heroes. I sense it in the Grey Man.'

  'He is merely a killer,' said Prial dismissively.

  'He is more than that. There is a nobility of spirit in him, and a power not found in ordinary men.'

  'I am not convinced,' said Prial. 'I stand with Corvidal on this issue. You are risking our lives on a forlorn hope.'

  Seeing that they were all in agreement she bowed her head. 'I will open a gateway for you all to leave,' she said, sadly.

  'And yet you will stay?' asked Corvidal softly.

  'I will.'

  'Then I will stay with you, Great One.'

  Menias and Prial glanced at one another. Then Prial spoke. 'I will stay until the arrival of the Kriaz-nor. But I have no wish to throw away my life needlessly.'

  'And you, Menias?' asked the priestess.

  He shrugged his powerful shoulders. 'Where you are, Great One, there shall I be.'

  Yu Yu Liang cleared his throat and spat into the sea. He was miserable. It seemed to him that his quest to become a hero was not all he had anticipated. As a ditch-digger he received a small amount of coin at the end of the week, which he would use on food, alcohol, lodging and pleasure-women. There was always enough food, never enough women and far too much alcohol. But, looking back, it had not been as unpleasant a life as it had seemed while he was living it.

  Picking up a flat rock, Yu Yu threw it far out over the waves. It struck once, skimmed for another twenty feet, then disappeared below the surface.

  He sighed. Now he had a sharp sword, no money, no women, and was sitting in the sunshine of a foreign land wondering why he had travelled this far. He had not intended to leave the lands of the Chiatze. His first thought had been to strike out for the mountains to the west and join a band of robbers. Then he had come upon the battlefield, and the dead Rajnee. He recalled the moment when he had first seen the sword. It was jutting from the earth just behind a bush. Sunlight had glanced from the blade as Yu Yu was robbing the corpse. The Rajnee was carrying no coin, and Yu Yu had pushed himself to his feet and walked to the sword. It was quite beautiful, the blade gleaming, the long, two-handed hilt wondrously fashioned and leatherbound. The pommel was of silver, embossed with a mountain flower. Reaching out, Yu Yu drew the sword from the earth.

  He then forgot his original purpose and decided to head north-east, filled with a desire to see foreign lands. It was most peculiar, and sitting in the sunshine of the Bay of Carlis he could not, for the life of him, remember just why he had thought it was such a fine idea.

  Two days later something even more mysterious occurred. He came upon a merchant who was travelling in a cart with two pretty daughters and a retarded son. The wheel had come off the cart and the group were sitting by the roadside. In his new life as a robber and an outlaw Yu Yu should have stolen the man's gold, ravished his daughters and left the scene richer and more relaxed. Indeed this had been his plan, and he had marched forward, adopting what he considered to be a menacing expression. Then, to show his intent, he grasped the hilt of the sword, ready to draw it and terrify his victims.

  An hour later he had repaired the cart, and escorted the merchant to his home village some six miles to the east. For this he received a fine meal, a kiss on the cheek from both daughters, and a small sack of supplies from the merchant's wife. You are too stupid to be a robber, he had told himself, as he resumed his journey.

  And now that stupidity had brought him to Kydor, a land where men bearing Chiatze features stood out like . . . like ... he struggled for a simile, but could only come up with 'warts on a whore's arse'. This was not entirely pleasing and he stopped thinking of similes. However, the point was a good one. How could a Chiatze warrior become a robber in a land where he would be instantly identified wherever he went? It was a nonsense.

  At that moment a young, blond-haired woman emerged on to the small beach. To Yu Yu's surprise she ignored him and began to remove her dress and undergarments. Once naked she ran across the sand and dived into the water. Coming to the surface she swam in long, easy strokes, curving round to approach Yu Yu's position. Treading water, she threw back her head, and swept her hands through her wet hair. 'Why are you not swimming?' she called out to him. 'Are you not hot sitting there in wolf fur?'

  Yu Yu admitted that he was. She laughed and swung away, swimming out into deeper water.

  As swiftly as he could Yu Yu struggled out of his clothes and hurled himself into the
sea, landing on his belly, which was painful. Not, however, as unpleasant as what followed. He sank like a stone. Thrashing his arms wildly, he fought for the surface. His head broke clear and he sucked in a great gulp of air. For a moment he bobbed in the water, but then he breathed out and disappeared once more beneath the cold water.

  Panic swept through him. Something grabbed his hair, hauling him up. He struggled wildly, and broke through the surface once more.

  'Take a deep breath and hold it,' the woman ordered him. Yu Yu did so, and bobbed alongside her. 'It is the air in your lungs that lets you float.'

  Reassured by her presence, Yu Yu relaxed a little. What she said was true. As long as he held air in his chest he floated.

  'Now lean back,' she said. 'I will support you.' As she floated alongside him he felt her arms below his spine and he gratefully dropped back into them. Glancing to his right he found himself staring at a pair of perfect breasts. Air whooshed from his lungs and he sank. Her arms pushed him back to the surface and he spluttered for a while. 'What kind of an idiot leaps into the sea when he cannot swim?' she asked.

  'I am Yu Yu Liang,' he managed to say, between great gulps of air.

  'Well, let me teach you, Yu Yu Liang,' she said.

  The next few minutes were a joy as she taught him a rudimentary stroke that allowed him to pull himself through the water. The sun was warm upon his back, the water cool upon his body. Finally she bade him make his way to the shallow water close to the beach. Then he watched as she waded back to where she had laid her clothes. Yu Yu followed her.

  She climbed up the rocks to where a small waterfall cascaded down to the beach and washed the salt from her body. Yu Yu gazed on her beauty, almost awestruck. Then he scrambled up and also washed himself. They returned to the beach and the woman sat down on a rock, to let her body dry in the sunshine.

  'You came in with the lord Matze Chai,' she said.

  'I am . . . bodyguard,' said Yu Yu. The excitement caused by her nakedness made Yu Yu feel light-headed. His grasp of the round-eye tongue, feeble at best, came close to deserting him.

  'I hope you fight better than you swim,' she said.

  'I am great fighter. I have fought demons. I fear nothing.'

  'My name is Norda,' she said. 'I work in the palace. All the servants have heard the stories of the demons in the mist. Is it true? Or were they merely robbers?'

  'Demons, yes,' said Yu Yu. 'I cut arm from one and it burn. Then . . . gone. Nothing left. I did this.'

  'Truly?' she asked him.

  Yu Yu sighed. 'No. Kysumu cut arm. But I would have if closer.'

  'I like you, Yu Yu Liang,' she said, with a smile. Rising to her feet, she dressed and wandered away back up the rocks to the path.

  'I like you too,' he called. She turned and waved, then was gone.

  Yu Yu sat for a while, then realized he was growing hungry. Putting on his clothes he thrust his scabbarded sword into his belt and walked back up the hill. Perhaps, he thought, life in Kydor will not be so unpleasant.

  Kysumu was sitting on the balcony of their room. He was sketching the outline of the cliffs and town across the bay. He glanced up as Yu Yu entered. 'I've had a great time,' said Yu Yu. 'I swam with a girl. She was beautiful, with golden hair and breasts like melons. Beautiful breasts. I am a great swimmer.'

  'I saw,' said Kysumu. 'However, if you wish to be a Rajnee you must put aside carnal desires, and concentrate on the spiritual, the journey of the soul towards true humility.'

  Yu Yu thought about this, then decided Kysumu was making a joke. He didn't understand it, but laughed out of politeness. 'I am hungry,' he said.

  Elphons, Duke of Kydor, angled his grey charger down the slope towards the grasslands of the Eiden Plain. Behind him came his aides and his personal bodyguard of forty lancers. At fifty-one Elphons had found the long journey from the capital tiring. A man of great physical strength, the Duke had lately been plagued by sharp pains in his joints, most especially in the elbows, ankles and knees, which were now swollen and tender. He had hoped that the journey from the damp and cold of the capital to the warmer climes around Carlis would relieve the problem, but so far there had been little change. He was also experiencing difficulty at times with his breathing.

  He glanced back at the convoy of five heavy wagons, the first carrying his wife and her three ladies-in-waiting. His fifteen-year-old son, Niallad, was riding alongside the convoy, the sun glinting on his new armour. Elphons sighed and heeled his horse onward.

  The weather had been clement during their mountain passage, but as they made their way slowly down towards the plain the temperature rose. At first it was a pleasant warmth, after the cold mountain winds, but now it was becoming intolerable. Sweat trickled down the Duke's broad face. He lifted his gold-embossed iron helm from his head and pushed back his hood of silver mail rings, exposing thick, unruly grey hair.

  The slim, balding aide, Lares, rode alongside the Duke. 'Uncommonly hot, sire,' he said, pulling the stopper from his leather canteen and pouring water on to a linen handkerchief. This he passed to Elphons, who wiped it over his face and grey-streaked beard. Instantly the hot breeze felt cool against his skin. Unclipping his heavy red cloak he passed it to Lares.

  Far below, Elphons saw the wagons of the merchant convoy enter the deep woods bordering the long Lake of Cepharis. His mood soured. They had first caught sight of the convoy earlier that morning, as a dustcloud on the horizon. Slowly they had gained on it, and were now a mere half-mile behind them. Elphons had been looking forward to arriving at the lake, divesting himself of his armour and swimming in the cool water, and did not relish the thought of sharing it with two score wagoners and their families. As always the young Lares was in tune with his master's thoughts. 'I could ride down and get them to move on, sire,' he said.

  It was a tempting thought, but Elphons pushed it aside. The wagoners would be no less hot than he, and the lake was common ground. It would be enough for the Duke and his retainers to ride close and wait patiently. The wagoners would get the message and move on more swiftly. Even so, it meant that before the day was over the Duke and his retainers would be eating dust thrown up by the convoy.

  Elphons patted the sleek neck of his charger. 'You are tired, Osir,' he said to the horse, 'and I fear I am not as light as once I was.' The horse snorted and tossed its head.

  The Duke touched heels to the animal's flanks and began once more the long descent. A solitary cloud drifted momentarily between the sun and the land and Elphons enjoyed a few seconds of relief from the heat.

  Then it was gone. With the prospect of the lake looming, Elphons drained the last of the water from his canteen, and swung in the saddle to watch his wagons making their slow and careful descent. There was scree upon the road and if not handled with skill a wagon could slide off and smash into shards on the rocky slope.

  His wife, the silver-haired Aldania, waved at him, and he grinned back. As she smiled she looked young again, he thought, and infinitely desirable. Twenty-two years they had been wed, and he still marvelled at his luck in winning her. The only daughter of Orien, the last but one king of the Drenai, she had fled her own lands during the war against Vagria. Elphons had been merely a knight at that time, and had met her in the Gothir capital of Gulgothir. Under any normal circumstances a romance between a princess and a knight would have been short-lived, but with her brother King Niallad slain by an assassin, and the Drenai empire in ruins, there were few suitors for her hand. And after the war, when the Drenai declared for a republic, she was even less sought-after. The new ruler, the fat giant Karnak, made it clear that Aldania would not be welcome back home. So Elphons had won her heart and her hand, bringing her to Kydor and enjoying twenty-two years of great joy.

  Thoughts of his good fortune made him forget burning heat and painful joints, and he rode for some time lost in the memories of their years together. She was everything he could have wished for: a friend, a lover, and a wise adviser in times of crisis. There was onl
y one area in which he could offer any criticism. The raising of their son. It was the only subject on which they rowed. She doted on Niallad, and would hear no words said against him.

  Elphons loved the boy, but he worried for him. He was too fearful. The Duke twisted in the saddle and glanced back. Niallad waved at him. Elphons smiled and returned the wave. If I could turn back the years, thought the Duke, I would throttle that damned story-teller. Niallad had been around six years of age when he had learned the full story of the death of his uncle, the Drenai king. He had suffered nightmares for months, believing that the evil Waylander was hunting him. For most of the summer the boy had taken to creeping into his parents' bedroom and climbing into bed between them.

  Elphons had finally summoned the Drenai ambassador, a pleasant man with a large family of his own. He had sat with Niallad and explained how the monstrous Waylander had been hunted down and how his head had been cut off. The head had been brought to Drenan, where, stripped of skin, it had been displayed in the museum, alongside the assassin's infamous crossbow.

  For a while the boy's nightmares ceased. But then news had come of the theft of the crossbow, and the murder of Karnak, the Drenai ruler.

  Even now, nine years later, Niallad would not travel without bodyguards. He hated crowds and would avoid large gatherings when he could. On state occasions, when Elphons forced him to attend, he would stay close to his father, eyes wide with fear, sweat upon his face. No one mentioned it, of course, but all saw it.

  Elphons returned his attention to the trail. He was almost at the foot of the slope. Shading his eyes he stared ahead at the wooded lake a quarter of a mile ahead. There was no one swimming. How curious, he thought. They must have pushed on. Hardy men, these wagoners. And yet they had women and children with them. One would have thought they would have appreciated a cooling swim. Perhaps they realized the Duke was close behind and were nervous about stopping. He hoped this was not the reason.

  Lares moved alongside him and waved the troop of twenty soldiers forward. They cantered past the Duke and rode ahead to scout the woods.