Drenai Saga 02 - The King Beyond the Gate (37 page)

“How?”

“It was written.”

Tenaka watched his kinsmen circling the tomb, waiting for the moment when both of them were out of sight. Then he rose slowly and sped to the dome. The climb was not difficult, for the marble fascia had been pinned to the sandstone, and this left handholds where the blocks joined. He was halfway to the statue of Ulric before the others spotted him. Then he heard Saddleskull curse and knew they were following.

He reached the arch. It was seven feet deep, and the statue of Ulric was nestled at the rear.

The king beyond the gate!

Tenaka Khan moved forward carefully. The door was hidden behind the archway. He pushed at it, and it creaked open.

Saddleskull and Knifespeaks arrived almost together, their enmity forgotten in their fear that Tenaka was ahead. Seeing the open door, they pushed forward, but Saddleskull pulled back just as Knifespeaks entered. As Knifespeaks’ foot crossed the threshold, there was a loud crack and three spears hammered through his chest, punching through his lungs and jutting from his back. He sagged forward. Saddleskull moved around the body, seeing that the spears had been attached to a board, and the board to a series of ropes. He held his breath and listened carefully; he could hear the whispering fall of sand trickling on the stone. He dropped to his knees. There inside the doorway was a broken glass. Sand trickled from it.

As soon as Knifespeaks had broken the glass, the balance was lost and the death trap released. But how had Tenaka avoided death? Saddleskull cursed and carefully moved into the doorway. Where the half-blood walked, he could surely follow. Immediately after he disappeared, Tenaka stepped out from behind the ghostly statue of the khan. He paused to study the trap that had killed Knifespeaks and then silently moved into the tomb.

The corridor beyond should have been in total darkness, but a strange green light glowed from the walls. Tenaka dropped to his hands and knees and crawled forward, scanning the walls on either side. There must be more traps. But where?

The corridor ended at a circular stair, dipping down into the bowels of the tomb. Tenaka studied the first few steps: They seemed solid. The wall alongside was panelled with cedar. Tenaka sat on the top stair. Why panel a stairwell?

He ripped a section of cedar from the wall and moved on down the stairs, testing each step. Halfway down he felt a slight movement beneath his right foot and withdrew it. Taking the cedar plank, he laid it flat against the edges of the steps and then lay back on it and lifted his feet. The plank began to slide. It hit the rigged steps at speed, and Tenaka felt the
whoosh
of a steel blade slice above his head. The plank increased speed, hurtling down the stairs. Thrice more it triggered death traps, but such was the speed of the makeshift sled that Tenaka was untouched. He thrust his booted feet against the walls to slow himself down, his arms and legs being battered and bruised as the journey continued.

The plank hit the ground at the foot of the stairs, pitching Tenaka through the air. Instantly he relaxed, curling his body into a ball. The air was punched from him as he hit the far wall. He grunted and rolled to his knees. Gingerly he touched his ribs; at least one felt broken. He glanced around the chamber. Where was Saddleskull? The answer came seconds later: Hearing the clatter on the stairs, Tenaka grinned and moved away from the stairwell. Saddleskull hurtled by him, his plank smashing to shards, his body cartwheeling into the far wall. Tenaka winced at the impact.

Saddleskull groaned and staggered to his feet; spying Tenaka, he drew himself upright.

“It didn’t take me long to work out your plan, half-blood!”

“You surprise me. How did you get behind me?”

“I hid by the body.”

“Well, we are here,” said Tenaka, pointing to the sarcophagus on the raised dais at the center of the chamber. “All that remains is to claim the helm.”

“Yes,” Saddleskull said warily.

“Open the coffin,” said Tenaka, smiling.

“You open it.”

“Come now, Cousin. We cannot spend the rest of our lives here. We will open it together.”

Saddleskull’s eyes narrowed. The coffin would almost certainly be rigged, and he did not want to die. But if he allowed Tenaka to open the coffin, he would gain not only the helm but, more important, Ulric’s sword.

Saddleskull grinned. “Very well,” he said. “Together!”

They moved to the coffin and heaved at the marble lid, which creaked open. The two men gave a final push, and the lid fell to the floor, breaking into three pieces. Saddleskull lunged for the sword that lay on the chest of the skeleton within. Tenaka seized the helm and leapt to the far side of the coffin. Saddleskull chuckled.

“Well, Cousin. Now what will you do?”

“I have the helm,” said Tenaka.

Saddleskull leapt forward, slashing wildly, but Tenaka jumped clear, keeping the coffin between them.

“We could do this forever,” said Tenaka. “We could spend eternity running around and around this coffin.”

His opponent hawked and spit. There was truth in what Tenaka said. The sword was useless unless he could get within range.

“Give me the helm,” said Saddleskull. “Then we can both live. Agree to serve me and I will make you my warmaster.”

“No, I will not serve you,” said Tenaka. “But you can have the helm if you agree to one condition.”

“Name it!”

“That you let me lead thirty thousand riders into the Drenai.”

“What? Why?”

“We can discuss that later. Do you swear?”

“I do. Give me the helm.”

As Tenaka tossed the helm across the coffin, Saddleskull caught it deftly and pushed it onto his head, wincing as a sharp edge of metal pricked his scalp.

“You are a fool, Tenaka. Did Asta not say that only one would return? Now I have it all.”

“You have nothing, numbskull. You are dead!” said Tenaka.

“Empty threats,” sneered Saddleskull.

Tenaka laughed. “Ulric’s last jest! No one can wear his helm. Did you feel the sharpness, Cousin, when the poison needle pierced your skin?”

The sword fell from Saddleskull’s hand, and his legs gave way. He struggled to rise, but death pulled him down into the pit. Tenaka recovered the helm and replaced the sword in the coffin.

Slowly he climbed the stairs, squeezing past the blades jutting from the panels. Once into the open air, he sat back, cradling the helm in his lap. It was bronze, edged with white fur and decorated with silver thread.

Far below Asta Khan sat watching the moon, and Tenaka climbed down to him. The old man did not look around as he approached.

“Welcome, Tenaka Khan, Lord of Hosts!” he said.

“Take me home,” ordered Tenaka.

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“There is someone you must meet.” A white mist billowed from the ground, swirling around them; from its depths strode a powerful figure.

“You did well,” said Ulric.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Do you mean to keep your word to your friends?”

“I do.”

“So the Nadir will ride to the aid of the Drenai?”

“They will.”

“It is as it should be. A man must stand by his friends. But you know that the Drenai must fall before you. As long as they survive, the Nadir cannot prosper.”

“I know this.”

“And you are prepared to conquer them … end their empire?”

“I am.”

“Good. Follow me into the mist.”

Tenaka did as he was bidden, and the khan led him to the banks of a dark river. There sat an old man who turned as Tenaka approached. It was Aulin, the former Source priest who had died in the Dragon barracks.

“Were you true to your word?” he asked. “Did you look after Renya?”

“I did.”

“Then sit beside me, and I shall be true to my word.”

Tenaka sat, and the old man leaned back, watching the dark water bubble and flow.

“I discovered many machines of the Elders. I scanned their books and notes. I experimented. I learned many of their secrets. They knew the fall was imminent, and they left many clues for future generations. The world is a ball; did you know that?”

“No,” said Tenaka.

“Well, it is. At the top of the ball is a world of ice. And at the base, another. Around the center it is hellishly hot. And the ball spins around the sun. Did you know that?”

“Aulin, I have no time for this. What do you wish to tell me?”

“Please, warrior, listen to me. I so wanted this knowledge shared. It is important to me.”

“Go on, then.”

“The world spins, and the ice at the poles of the world grows daily: millions of tons of ice, every day for thousands of years. At last the ball begins to wobble as it spins, and then it tips. And as it tips, the oceans rise up and cover the land. And the ice spreads to cover whole continents. That is the fall. That is what happened to the Elders. Do you see? It makes the dreams of men nonsense.”

“I see. Now what can you tell me?”

“The machines of the Elders—they do not operate as Ceska thinks. There is no physical joining of beasts and men. Rather is it a harnessing of vital forces, held in delicate balance. The Elders knew it was important—vital—to allow the spirit of man to remain in the ascendant. The horror of the Joinings is the result of allowing the beast to emerge.”

“How does this help me?” asked Tenaka.

“I saw a Joining revert once; it became a man again and died.”

“How?”

“When it saw something that jolted it.”

“What did it see?”

“The woman who had been its wife.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes. Is that helpful?”

“I don’t know,” said Tenaka. “It may be.”

“Then I shall leave you,” said Aulin. “I shall return to the gray.”

Tenaka watched him shuffle away into the mist. Then he stood and turned as Ulric stepped forward.

“The war has already begun,” said the khan. “You will not arrive in time to save your friends.”

“Then I shall be in time to avenge them,” answered Tenaka.

“What was the old man trying to tell you about the fall?”

“I don’t know—something about ice spinning. It wasn’t important,” said Tenaka.

The old shaman bade Tenaka sit down, and the new khan obeyed. His eyes closed. When he opened them, he was sitting before the tomb as before, watched by the massed ranks of Nadir generals. To his left lay Shirrat Knifespeaks, his chest ripped apart, blood staining the dust. To his right was Saddleskull, a small trickle of blood on his temple. Before him was the helm of Ulric.

Asta Khan stood and turned to the generals.

“It is over, and it has begun. Tenaka Khan rules the Wolves.”

The old man took the helm, returned to the brazier, swept up his cloak of ragged skins, and walked from the camp. Tenaka remained where he was, scanning the faces before him and sensing the hostility. These were men prepared for war, supporters of Knifespeaks or Saddleskull. Not one man among them had considered Tenaka as khan. Now they had a new leader, and from this moment on Tenaka would need to walk with extreme care. His food would have to be tasted, his tent guarded. Among the men before him would be many who would desire his death.

And swiftly!

It was easy to become a khan. The real trick lay in staying alive thereafter.

A movement in the ranks caught his eye, and Ingis rose and walked toward him. Taking his sword from its scabbard and reversing the blade, he handed it hilt first to Tenaka.

“I become your man,” said Ingis, kneeling.

“Welcome, warrior. How many brothers do you bring?”

“Twenty thousand.”

“It is good,” said the khan.

And one by one the generals trooped forward. It was dawn before the last backed away and Ingis approached once more.

“The families of Saddleskull and Knifespeaks have been taken. They are being held near your campsite.”

Tenaka rose and stretched. He was cold and very tired. With Ingis beside him, he walked from the tomb.

A great crowd had assembled to watch the deaths of the prisoners. Tenaka looked at the captives as they knelt in silent ranks, their arms tied behind them. There were twenty-two women, six men, and a dozen boy children.

Subodai came forward. “You wish to kill them yourself?”

“No.”

“Gitasi and I will do it, then,” he said with relish.

“No.” Tenaka walked on, leaving Subodai baffled and surprised.

The new khan halted before the women, the wives of the dead warlords.

“I did not kill your husbands,” he told them. “There was no blood feud between us. Yet I inherit their property. So be it! You were part of that property, and I name you as wives of Tenaka Khan. Release them!” he ordered.

Muttering under his breath, Subodai moved along the line. A young woman ran forward as he freed her and threw herself at Tenaka’s feet.

“If I am truly your wife, then what of my son?”

“Release the children also,” said Tenaka.

Only the six men remained now, close relatives of the dead warlords.

“This is a new day,” Tenaka told them. “I give you this choice. Promise you serve me and you live. Refuse and you die!”

“I spit on you, half-blood,” shouted one man. Tenaka stepped forward, held out his hand for Subodai’s sword, and with one sweep severed the man’s neck.

Not one of the five remaining prisoners spoke, and Tenaka moved along the line, killing them all. He called Ingis to him, and the two men sat quietly in the shadows of the tent.

There they stayed for three hours while the khan outlined his plans. Then Tenaka slept.

And while he slept twenty men ringed his tent, swords in hand.

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