QUEST FOR LOST HEROES by David A. Gemmell

Chareos smiled. ‘Do you know everything, Okas?’

‘No, that is why I ask.’

‘He climbed up to sit with us and we talked of many things: love, life, power, conquest, duty. He was a knowl­edgeable man. He had a dream, but he said the stars stood in his way.’

‘What did he mean by it?’

‘I don’t know. He was no youngster then. Perhaps he meant death.’

‘How did he die?’

‘As I understand it, he collapsed at a feast. He was drinking wine and his heart gave out.’

‘What happened then? After feast?’

Chareos spread his hands. ‘How would I know? They buried him in Ulric’s tomb. It was a great ceremony and thousands witnessed it. Our own ambassadors – and others from Ventria and the east – attended. Then his eldest son, Jungir, became Khan. He killed all of his brothers and now rules the Nadir. What has this to do with our quest? Or are you merely curious?’

Okas lifted his hand, the index finger pointing up, and spun it in the air. Golden light streamed from the ringer, forming a circle. Other circles sprang up, criss-crossing the first until a sphere hung there. He dropped his hand and traced a straight golden line. ‘This line is how you see your quest; flat, straight, start, finish. But this,’ he said, raising his eyes to the globe, ‘is how it really is. Your line is touched by many others. I know your secret, Chareos. I know who you are. You are son of last Earl of Dros Delnoch. You are heir to Armour of Bronze. And that makes you blood relative of Tenaka Khan and descendant of both Ulric and Earl Regnak, the second Earl of Bronze.’

‘That is a secret I hope you will share with no one else,’ whispered Chareos. ‘I have no desire to return to the Drenai, and I want no one seeking me out.’

‘As you wish . . . but blood is strong and it calls across the centuries. You will find it so. Why did Tenaka Khan let you live?’

‘I don’t know. Truly I don’t.’

‘And the ghosts-yet-to-be?’

‘Just another riddle,’ answered Chareos. ‘Are not all men the ghosts of the future?’

‘Yes. But in the Nadir tongue the phrase could be translated as Companions of the ghost, or even Followers of the ghost. Is that not so?’

‘I am not skilled in the nuances of the Nadir tongue. What difference does it make?’

Okas jumped down to the floor, landing lightly. ‘I will take you to Nadren village where Ravenna and the others were held. Then we see.’

‘Is she still there?’

‘I cannot say. I will pick up the spirit-trail at her home.’

Okas returned to the main room, where Kiall had lifted a heavy bundle to the table-top. When he opened it golden objects fell across the wooden surface, glinting in the lantern light. There were armbands, necklets, brooches, rings, and even a belt with solid gold clasp.

‘Oh, joy!’ cried Beltzer, dipping his huge fingers into the treasure and lifting a dozen items clear. ‘Chareos said you were resourceful, but he didn’t do you justice.’

‘With this we should be able to buy back Ravenna,’ said Kiall.

‘With this you could buy a hundred women,’ countered Beltzer. ‘When do we share it out?’

‘We don’t,’ Kiall stated. ‘As I said, this is for Ravenna.’

Beltzer reddened. ‘I worked for this too,’ he said, ‘and you must have stripped it from the bodies of the men I slew at the Gateway. Part of it is mine. Mine!’ He scooped up a handful of golden objects and began to cram them into his pockets. Kiall stepped back and drew his sword, but Beltzer saw the move and swept up his axe.

‘Stop this foolishness!’ roared Chareos, moving between them. ‘Sheath the blade, Kiall. And you, Beltzer, put back the gold.’

‘But Chareos . . .’ began Beltzer.

‘Do it now!’

Beltzer slammed the gold back to the table, and stalked off to sit by the fire. Chareos turned his angry eyes on Kiall. There is truth in what he said. Think on it!’

Kiall stood silently for a few moments, then he relaxed. ‘You split it fairly, Chareos,’ said the young man. ‘I will use my share to buy Ravenna.’

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