Asta Khan pushed himself to his feet. The shaman was old, older than any man living among the tribes, and his wisdom was legend. He moved slowly round to stand before the trio; he knew them well – as he had known their fathers and grandfathers – and he could see the resemblance between them.
He lifted his right arm. ‘Nadir we!’ he shouted, and his voice belied his age; resonant and powerful it floated above the massed ranks and the men echoed the shout solemnly.
There is no going back from this quest,’ said the shaman, addressing the trio. ‘You are all kinsmen. Each of you claims blood link to the great Khan. Can you not agree amongst you who should lead?’
He waited for several seconds, but all three remained silent.
‘Then hear the wisdom of Asia Khan. You expect to fight one another – I see that your bodies and your weapons are sharp. But there will be no battle of the blood. Instead I shall send you to a place that is not of this world. He that returns will be the Khan, for he will find the helm of Ulric. Death will be closer to you, for you will be walking within his realm. You will see terrible sights, you will hear the screams of the damned. Do you still wish this quest?’
‘Let us begin!’ snapped Saddleskull. ‘Get ready to die, mongrel,’ he whispered to Tenaka.
The shaman stepped forward, placing his hand on Saddleskull’s head. The warlord’s eyes closed and his head dropped. Knifespeaks followed . . . then Tenaka Khan.
Asta Khan squatted down before the sleeping trio, then he closed his eyes.
‘Stand!’ he ordered.
The three men opened their eyes and stood, blinking in surprise. They were still before the tomb of Ulric, only now they were alone. Gone were the warriors, and the tents, and the camp-fires.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ asked Knifespeaks.
‘There is the tomb of Ulric,’ answered Asta Khan. ‘All you must do is fetch the helm from the sleeping Khan.’
Knifespeaks and Saddleskull loped off towards the tomb. There were no entrances visible – no doors, only smooth white marble.
Tenaka sat down and the shaman squatted beside him.
‘Why do you not search with your cousins?’ he asked.
‘I know where to look.’
Asta Khan nodded. ‘I knew you would come back.’
‘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 half-way 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 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 round 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 he disappeared, Tenaka stepped out from behind the ghostly statue of the Khan. He paused to study the trap which had killed Knifespeaks and then silently moved into the tomb.