Hero in the Shadows (42 page)

“Is it your intention to answer none of my questions?” asked the magicker.

“I was not aware that it was a question,” said Matze. “It seemed to me a statement of fact. There is no secret concerning my visit. I organize the financial dealings of the Gray Man, as you call him, within the lands of the Chiatze.”

“My apologies, Matze Chai,” Eldicar said with a thin smile. “By what name do you know this man?”

“I know him as Dakeyras.”

“Where is he from?”

“Some land in the far southwest. Drenan or Vagria. It is not my business to inquire too deeply into the backgrounds of my clients. I am retained to make their finances grow. That is my talent.”

“Are you aware that your client and a vile sorceress caused the deaths of more than a hundred people, including the duke and his lady?”

“If you say so,” answered Matze, pulling a perfumed handkerchief from his red silk sleeve. Delicately he dabbed it to his nose.

“We do say it, you slant-eyed horse turd,” snapped Lord Panagyn.

Matze did not look at the man but kept his gaze firmly on the face of the magicker.

“Your client also kidnapped the heir to the duchy and dragged him from the palace amid the slaughter.”

“An amazingly gifted man, obviously,” said Matze. “And yet apparently not very intelligent.”

“Why is that?” asked Eldicar.

“He summons demons to wipe out the duke and all his followers yet somehow fails to kill the two most powerful lords. Instead of slaying them—a feat he could accomplish with ease—he decides to kidnap the duke’s son and, thus burdened, rushes off into the night, leaving his enemies alive and in possession of his castle, his lands, and a great deal of his wealth. Hard to imagine what he thought he was achieving. Remarkably stupid.”

“What are you insinuating?” snarled Aric.

“I would have thought that was obvious,” said Matze. “My client, as you well know, was not responsible for the murders. He had no reason to kill the duke and certainly would not resort to summoning demons even if he could. So stop playing stupid games. I do not care who rules this realm or who summoned the demons. I am supremely disinterested in such matters. I am a merchant. My interests lie in commerce.”

“Very well, Matze Chai,” Eldicar said smoothly, “let us put aside questions of guilt and innocence. We need to find the Gray Man, and we need you to tell us all you know about him.”

“My clients require from me a great deal of discretion,” Matze told him. “I do not gossip about their affairs.”

“I am not sure that you realize the peril of your predicament, sir,” said Eldicar, his voice hardening. “The Gray Man is our enemy and must be found. The more we know about him, the easier the task. It would be better for you to speak freely than to have the words wrung from you. And believe me, I have the power to tear the words from you in between screams of agony.” Eldicar smiled and leaned back in his chair. “However, let us put aside such thoughts for a moment and examine ways in which you might reconsider your position and become my friend.”

“Friendship is always welcome,” said Matze.

“You are an old man, close to death. Would you like to be young again?”

“Who would not?”

“A small demonstration, then, as a gesture of good faith.”

Eldicar lifted his hand. A fist-sized globe of shimmering blue smoke appeared. It sped from his fingers, flowing into the nostrils and mouth of the startled Liu. The Chiatze guard fell to his knees, choking. Blue smoke exploded from his lungs, and he gasped, taking in great gulps of air. The smoke flowed around Matze Chai. The merchant tried to hold his breath, but the smoke clung to his face. At last he inhaled. A tingling sensation seeped through his limbs. He felt his heart beat faster, his muscles swell with new life. Energy roared within him. He felt strong again. His vision cleared, and he found that he could see with greater clarity than he had for years. He turned to Liu. The young captain had regained his feet. Matze’s expression hardened as he saw that Liu’s dark hair was showing gray at the temples.

“How does it feel, Matze Chai?” asked Eldicar Manushan.

“It feels very fine,” Matze answered coldly. “However, it would have been good manners to ask my captain if he objected to losing some of his youth.”

“I have given you twenty years, merchant. I can give you twenty more. You can be young and virile once more. You can enjoy your wealth in a manner denied to you for decades. Are you now willing to be my friend?”

Matze took a deep breath. “My client is unique, magicker. Some men are talented painters and sculptors; others can grow any kind of bloom in any kind of climate. You are obviously skilled in the arcane arts. But my client is a master of only one skill, one terrible talent. He is a killer. In all my long and thus far remarkably uneventful life I have neither known nor heard of anyone to match him. He has fought demons and magickers and werebeasts. He is still here.” Matze Chai gave a thin smile. “But then, I think you already realize this. He was supposed to have died in your massacre, and he did not. Now you believe you are hunting him. It is an illusion. He is hunting you. You are already dead men. I do not desire friendship with dead men.”

Eldicar looked at him in silence for several moments. “It is time to know pain, Matze Chai,” he said. As he spoke, he raised his hand and pointed to Liu. The officer’s dagger slid from its sheath, spun, and plunged through Liu’s right eye socket. He fell without a sound.

Matze sat silently, his hands on his lap, as the guards moved in.

Three-swords stepped back from the rock door. Iron-arm continued to beat at the stone with the pommel of his sword.

“Enough,” said Three-swords. “It will not budge.”

“How, then, did they pass through?”

“I do not know. But we have searched the hillside, and this is the only way out. So we wait.”

The two
Kriaz-nor
climbed down to join the others. Longstride
was sitting down in the cave mouth, Stone-four beside him. The two survivors of Striped-claw’s group were standing apart. Three-swords called them to him. They were both fresh from the pens. It was stupid of Striped-claw to have chosen them for this task but entirely predictable. Striped-claw liked to impress, and pen younglings were easier to impress than seasoned warriors were.

“Tell me of the fight,” said Three-swords.

One of the warriors began to speak. “Striped-claw told us to stand back while he made the kill. Then he fought the one in the wolfskin. It was very fast. The human moved like a
Kriaz-nor
. Great speed. Then Striped-claw went down. It was then that Hill-six attacked the second man. He died.”

“Then you ran?”

“Yes, sir.”

Three-swords stepped back from the pair and drew one of his swords. In one move of dazzling speed he beheaded the speaker. The second warrior turned to run, but Three-swords was upon him within a few paces, his blade slashing through the back of the
Kriaz-nor’s
neck.

Turning, he strolled back to Iron-arm. “Fresh meat,” he said. “But leave the hearts. I do not want the blood of cowards flowing in my veins.”

At that moment the ground began to vibrate. Three-swords almost lost his footing.

“Earthquake!” shouted Stone-four.

A dull sound like distant thunder boomed across the clearing. A dislodged boulder rolled past them.

“It is coming from inside the hill,” said Iron-arm.

Another boulder moved, falling on the overhang and bouncing out to crash to the ground close by. “Back to the tree line,” ordered Three-swords. Iron-arm ran to one of the bodies and, hauling it behind him, followed his three comrades back to the safety of the trees.

Yu Yu felt stronger when he awoke, his bruised body refreshed. Kysumu was sitting cross-legged beside him, eyes closed and deep in a meditation trance. Yu Yu sat up and stared out over the white ranks of the ghostly army.

Leaving Kysumu, he strolled among the clay figures, looking at faces, seeking out Qin Chong. But he was nowhere to be found. At last Yu Yu came upon the broken figures. Kneeling, he pieced together what he could of the heads. As he half completed the task, a second sadness touched him. In his hands he held the features of the
Riaj-nor
who had befriended him in his dreams. “What do I do now?” he whispered. “I am here.” There was no answer. Yu Yu placed the broken pieces on the ground and sat back. Kysumu should have been the
pria-shath
. He was a trained
Rajnee
.

Yu Yu moved back to Kysumu and waited for the trance to end. Within minutes Kysumu opened his eyes. “Are you feeling stronger?” asked the swordsman.

“Yes,” Yu Yu answered miserably.

“Did Qin Chong come to you in your sleep?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea what to do now?”

“No, I don’t!” snapped Yu Yu. “I don’t know how statues can help us.”

Pushing himself to his feet, he walked away from the swordsman, anxious to avoid further questioning. Yu Yu had never felt so useless. He wandered around the walls, coming at last to the ledge scattered with golden ornaments. In his mind’s eye he saw the warriors lining up there, placing their trinkets on the rock. He picked up a small golden ring, then let it drop. In his vision he had seen warriors march into the depths of the hill. Now there were only statues. Where, then, were the warriors? Had they been covered with clay? The broken head of Qin Chong’s statue had been hollow, and there were no bones or scraps of hair within it, so that seemed unlikely. What, then, was the purpose behind these statues?

Yu Yu strained at the thought until his head hurt. “
You must wake the Men of Clay
,” Qin Chong had told him.

“Wake up!” bellowed Yu Yu.

“What are you shouting for?” Kysumu called out.

Yu Yu did not reply. Unable to think of an answer, he turned back to the ledge. His gaze fell upon a threaded rod of gold some four inches long. Beside it was a circular stand with a hole at the center. Yu Yu picked up the stand and inserted the rod into the hole, screwing it tight. The top of the rod was hooked like a shepherd’s crook.

“What are you doing?” asked Kysumu, coming alongside.

“Nothing,” said Yu Yu. “Amusing myself. Something should hang from this hook.”

“We have more important matters to decide,” said Kysumu.

“I know.” Yu Yu continued to probe among the ornaments, finally finding a small golden bell with a ring at the crest. “This is it,” he said, carefully hooking the bell to the rod. “Pretty.”

“Yes, it is pretty,” Kysumu said with a sigh.

Yu Yu flicked the bell. A small chime sounded. The bell continued to swing, and the next chime was louder than the first. The sound began to reverberate through the domed hall, growing louder and louder. The rock wall began to vibrate, ornaments tumbling from it. Kysumu tried to say something, but Yu Yu could not hear him. Yu Yu’s ears were beginning to hurt, and he covered them with his hands.

Dust fell from the domed ceiling, and cracks appeared in the walls. The bell was now booming louder than thunder. Yu Yu felt sick. He staggered back from the ledge and fell to his knees. Kysumu also had covered his ears and was squatting down, a look of intense pain on his features.

The clay statues were trembling now. Yu Yu saw tiny cracks appear in the nearest figure, spreading out like a spider’s web. And still the terrible tolling of the bell continued. Pain roared inside Yu Yu’s head.

And he passed out.

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