‘A Drenai friend?’
‘Yes.’
‘And then?’
‘Then the land spoke to me.’
‘What were its words?’
‘There were no words. It spoke in silence, heart to soul. It welcomed me as a son.’
‘To come here unsummoned is death.’
‘Who decides what is a summons?’ asked Tenaka.
‘I do.’
‘Then you tell me, Asta Khan – was I summoned?’
Darkness fell away from Tenaka’s eyes and he found himself in a great hall. Torches shone on every side. The walls were smooth, embedded with crystals of every hue, while stalactites hung like shining spears from the vast dome of the roof. The cavern was packed with people, shamen from every tribe.
Tenaka blinked as his eyes grew accustomed to the light. The torches had not sprung up instantly. They had been alight all the time – only he had been blind.
‘Let me show you something, Tenaka,’ said Asta Khan, leading him from the cavern. ‘This is the path you took to reach me.’
Directly ahead was a yawning chasm, crossed by a slender stone bridge.
‘You walked that bridge in blindness. And so, yes, you were summoned. Follow me!’
The ancient shaman took him back over the bridge to a small room close to the main cave entrance. There the two men sat on a goatskin rug.
‘What would you have me do?’ asked Asta Khan.
‘Initiate the Shamen Quest.’
‘Saddleskull has no need of the Quest. He outnumbers his enemy and can win it by battle alone.’
‘Thousands of brothers will die.’
‘That is the Nadir way, Tenaka.’
‘The Shamen Quest would mean the deaths of only two,’ said Tenaka.
‘Speak plainly, young man! Without the Quest you have no chance to rule. With it your chances rise to one in three. Do you truly care about a civil war?’
‘I do. I have the dream of Ulric. I want to build the nation.’
‘And what of your Drenai friends?’
‘They are still my friends.’
‘I am no fool, Tenaka Khan. I have lived many, many years and I can read the hearts of men. Give me your hand and let me read your heart. But know this – if there is deceit in you, I shall kill you.’
Tenaka held out his hand and the old man took it.
For several minutes they remained thus, then Asta Khan released him.
‘The power of the shamen is maintained in many ways. There is generally very little direct manipulation of tribal directions. You understand?’
‘I do.’
‘On this occasion I will grant your request. But when Saddleskull hears he will send his executioner. There will be a challenge – it is all he can do.’
‘I understand.’
‘Do you wish to know of him?’
‘No. It is immaterial.’
‘You are confident.’
‘I am Tenaka Khan.’
*
The Valley of the Tomb stretched between two ranges of iron-grey mountains; these were known as the Ranks of Giants and Ulric himself had named this place as his burial ground. It amused the great warlord to think of these ageless sentries standing guard over his mortal remains. The tomb itself was built of sandstone, covered with marble. Forty thousand slaves had died building this monolith, shaped like the crown Ulric never wore. Six pointed towers ringed the white dome and giant runes were carved upon every surface, telling the world and all succeeding generations that here lay Ulric the Conqueror, the greatest Nadir warlord of them all.
And yet, typically, Ulric’s humour came through even this corpse-white colossus. The only carving to show the Khan depicted him riding his pony and wearing the crown of kings. Set sixty feet above the ground and back beyond a curving gateway, the statue was meant to depict Ulric waiting beyond the walls of Dros Delnoch, his only defeat. On his head was the crown, placed there by Ventrian sculptors who did not realise that a man could command an army of millions without being a king. This was a subtle jest, but one which Ulric would have enjoyed.
To the east and west of the tomb camped the armies of the two enemy kinsmen: Shirrat Knifes-peaks and Tsuboy Saddleskull. More than 150,000 men waited for the outcome of the Shamen Quest.