In the Realm of the Wolf (40 page)

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Authors: David Gemmell

BOOK: In the Realm of the Wolf
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“Then it should please you to know he is currently languishing in the dungeons of Gulgothir.”

“So I understand. What other news is there?”

“The price of silk is up. And spices. You have investments in both.”

“I didn’t mean the markets, Matze. What news from Drenai?”

“The Ventrians have had some success. They stormed Skein
but were pushed back at Erekban. But without Karnak they are set to lose the war. At present there is a cessation of hostilities. The Ventrians are holding the ground they have taken, and a Gothir force is camped in the Delnoch mountains. The fighting has ceased temporarily. No one knows why.”

“I could hazard a guess,” said the newcomer. “There are Brotherhood knights in all three camps. I think there is a deeper game being played.”

Matze nodded. “You could be right, Dakeyras. Zhu Chao has become more powerful in these last few months; only yesterday a decree from the emperor was published bearing the royal seal but with Zhu Chao’s signature. Worrying times. Still, that should not affect business. Now, how can I help you?”

“I have an enemy in Gulgothir who desires my death.”

“Then kill him and be done with it.”

“I intend to. But I will need information.”

“Everything is available in Gulgothir, my friend. You know that Who is this … unwise person?”

“A countryman of yours, Matze Chai. We have already spoken of him. He has a palace here and is close to the emperor.”

Matze Chai licked his lips nervously. “I do hope this is merely a bad jest.” The newcomer shook his head. “You realize that his home is guarded by men and demons and that his powers are very great. He could even now be watching us.”

“Aye, he could. But there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“What do you need?”

“I need a plan of the palace and an estimate of the numbers of guards and their placement.”

Matze sighed. “You are asking a great deal, my friend. If I aid you and you are captured—and confess—then my life will be forfeit.”

“Indeed it will.”

“Twenty-five thousand Raq,” said Matze Chai.

“Drenai or Gothir?” countered the newcomer.

“Gothir. The Drenai Raq has suffered in recent months.”

“That is close to the sum I have invested with you.”

“No, my friend, that is
exactly
the sum you have invested with me.”

“Your friendship carries a high price, Matze Chai.”

“I know of a man who was once a member of the Brotherhood, but he became overly addicted to Lorassium. He is a former captain of Zhu Chao’s guard. And there are two others who once served the man we speak of and will be helpful with information about his habits.”

“Send for them in the morning,” said Waylander, rising. “And now I shall take the bath and the massage. Oh, one small point. Before I visited you I went to another merchant who invests for me. I left him with sealed instructions. If I do not collect them tomorrow by noon, he will open them and act on the contents.”

“I take it,” said Matze with a tight smile, “we are talking about a contract for my death?”

“I have always liked you, Matze. You have a sharp mind.”

“This speaks of a certain lack of trust,” said Matze Chai, aggrieved.

“I trust you with my money, my friend. Let that be sufficient.”

The Gothir attacked three times in the night, twice trying to scale the walls but the third time launching their assault on the portcullis. The Nadir sent volley after volley of arrows into the attackers, but to little effect. Hundreds of soldiers clustered around the portcullis, making a wall of shields against the rusted iron, while other men hacked and sawed at the metal bars.

Orsa Khan, the tall half-breed, threw lantern oil over the barricade of carts and wagons and set fire to the base. Thick black smoke swirled around the gateway, and the attackers were driven back. On the walls Dardalion and the last of the Thirty battled alongside Nadir warriors, repelling assaults.

By dawn the last of the attacks had ceased, and Dardalion made his way back through the hall, leaving Vishna and the others on the ramparts. He tried to commune with Ekodas but could not break through the wall of power emanating from below the castle. He found Kesa Khan alone in his high room. The old shaman was standing by the crooked window, staring out over the valley.

“Three more days is all we have,” said Dardalion.

Kesa Khan shrugged. “Much can happen in three days, Drenai.”

Dardalion unbuckled his silver breastplate, pulling it clear. Removing his helm, he sat down on the rug by the glowing brazier.

Kesa Khan joined him. “You are tired, priest.”

“I am,” admitted Dardalion. “The paths of the future drained me.”

“As they have me on many occasions. But it was worth it to see the days of Ulric.”

“Ulric?”

“The Uniter,” said Kesa Khan.

“Ah, yes, the first Uniter. I am afraid I spent little time observing him. I was more interested in the second. An unusual man, don’t you think? Despite his mixed blood and his torn loyalties, he still drew the Nadir together and accomplished all that Ulric failed to do.”

Kesa Khan said nothing for a moment. “Can you show me this man?”

Dardalion’s eyes narrowed. “But you have seen him, surely. He is the Uniter you spoke of.”

“No, he is not.”

Dardalion sighed. “Take my hand, Kesa Khan, and share my memories.” The shaman reached out, gripping Dardalion’s palm. He shuddered, and his mind swam. Dardalion summoned his concentration, and together they witnessed the rise of Ulric Khan, the merging of the tribes, the great hordes sweeping across the steppes, the sacking of Gulgothir, and the first siege of Dros Delnoch.

They watched the Earl of Bronze turn back the Nadir host and saw the signing of the peace treaty and the honoring of the terms, the marriage between the earl’s son and one of Ulric’s daughters, and the birth of the child Tenaka Khan, the Prince of Shadows, the King beyond the Gate.

Dardalion felt Kesa Khan’s pride swell, followed immediately by a sense of despair. The separation was swift and brought a groan from the Drenai. He opened his eyes and saw the fear in Kesa Khan’s face. “What is it? What is wrong?”

“The woman Miriel. From her will come the line of men leading to this Earl of Bronze?”

“Yes. I thought you understood that. You knew that a child would be conceived here.”

“But not to her, Drenai! I did not know about her! The line of Ulric begins here also.”

“So?”

Kesa Khan’s breathing was shallow, his face distorted. “I … I believed that Ulric was the Uniter and that Miriel’s descendants would seek to thwart him. I … she …”

“Out with it, man!”

“There are beasts guarding the crystal. There were three, but their hunger was great and they turned on one another. Now there is only one. They were men sent by Zhu Chao to kill me. Karnak’s son, Bodalen, was one of them. The crystal merged them.”

“You could breach the power all along! What treachery is this?” stormed Dardalion.

“The girl will die down there. It is written!” The shaman’s face was pale and stricken. “I have destroyed the line of the Uniter.”

“Not yet,” said Dardalion, surging to his feet.

Kesa Khan lunged out, grabbing the priest’s arm. “You don’t understand! I have made a pact with Shemak. She will die. Nothing can alter it now.”

Dardalion tore himself clear of Kesa Khan’s grip. “Nothing is inalterable. And no demon will hold sway over me!”

“If I could change it, I would,” wailed Kesa Khan. “The Uniter is everything to me! But there must be a death. You cannot stop it!”

Dardalion ran from the room, down the winding stair to the hall, and on to the deep stairwell leading to the subterranean chambers. Just as he was entering the darkness, Vishna pulsed to him from the ramparts. “The Brotherhood is attacking, Brother. We need you!”

“I cannot!”

“Without you we are lost! The castle will fall!”

Dardalion reeled back from the doorway, his mind whirling. Hundreds of women and children would be slain if he deserted his post. Yet if he did not, Miriel was doomed. He fell to his knees in the doorway, desperately seeking the path of prayer, but his mind was lost in thoughts of the coming chaos. A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up. It was the scarred, ugly gladiator.

“Are you ill?” asked the man. Dardalion rose and took a deep breath. Then he told all to Angel. The man’s face was grim as he listened. “A death, you say? But not necessarily Miriel’s?”

“I don’t know. But I am needed on the wall. I cannot go to her.”

“I can,” said Angel, drawing his sword.

19
 

Z
HU
C
HAO STOOD
on the balcony, leaning on the gilded rail and staring at the battlements of his palace. There were no vulgar crenellations there but sweeping flutes and curves as befitted a Chiatze nobleman. The gardens below were filled with fragrant flowers and trees, with elaborate walkways curving around ponds and artificial streams. It was a place of quiet, tranquil beauty.

Yet it was still strong. Twenty men, armed with bows and swords, walked the four walls, while four others, keen-eyed and watchful, manned the towers at each corner. The gates were barred, and six savage hounds patrolled the gardens. He could see one of them, lying on all fours beside an ornate path. Its black fur made it almost invisible.

I am safe, thought Zhu Chao. Nothing can harm me.

Why, then, am I so afraid?

He shivered and drew his sheepskin-lined robe of purple wool more closely about his slender frame.

Kar-Barzac was becoming a disaster. Kesa Khan still lived, and the Nadir were defending the walls like men possessed. Innicas was dead, the Brotherhood all but destroyed. And Galen had been inexplicably murdered upon his return to the Drenai forces. He had walked into the tent of General Asten and had told the man about the tragic betrayal that had seen the death of Karnak. Asten had listened quietly, then had stood and approached the Brotherhood warrior. Suddenly he had reached out, grabbing Galen by the hair and wrenching back his head. A knife blade had flashed. Blood had gouted from Galen’s throat. Zhu Chao had seen it all: the dying warrior falling to the floor, the stocky general looming above him.

Zhu Chao shivered. It was all going wrong.

And where was Waylander
?

Three times he had cast the search spell. Three times it had failed. But tonight all will be made well, he assured himself. Midwinter’s Eve and the great sacrifice. Power will flow into me; the gift of chaos will be mine. Then I shall
demand
Kesa Khan’s death. Tomorrow the Ventrian king will be dead. His troops will turn to the Brotherhood for leadership, as will the Drenai soldiers. Galen was not the only loyal knight among them. Asten would die, as the emperor would die.

Three empires become one.

Not for me the petty title of king or emperor. With the crystal in my hands I shall be the divine Zhu Chao, Lord of All, King of Kings. The thought pleased him. He glanced at the nearest wall, watching the soldiers marching along the parapet. Strong men, faithful, loyal. I am safe, he told himself once more.

He glanced up at the mock tower to the left. The soldier there was sitting with his back to the outside. Sleeping! Irritation flared. Zhu Chao pulsed a command to him, but the man did not move. The sorcerer mentally summoned Casta, the captain of the guard.

“Yes, lord,” came the response.

“The guard on the eastern tower. Have him brought to the courtyard and flogged. He is sleeping.”

“At once, lord.”

Safe? How safe can I be with men such as these guarding me? “And Casta!”

“Yes, lord.”

“After he is flogged, cut his throat.” Turning on his heel, Zhu Chao returned to his apartments, his good mood in tatters. He felt the need of wine but held back. That night the sacrifice had to be conducted without error. He thought of Karnak in chains, the curved sacrificial knife slowly slicing into the Drenai’s chest. His mood brightened.

This is my last day as the servant of others, he thought. From tomorrow’s dawn I shall be the Lord of Three Empires.

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