QUEST FOR LOST HEROES by David A. Gemmell

The statue was silent. ‘How strange, Father. There is no difference in talking to you now, from when you were alive. It was always like speaking to stone. Well, I wept when you died. And I almost stopped you drinking that poison. Almost. I reached out my hand to you. You looked into my eyes, and you said nothing. A single word from you and I would have stopped you. But you looked away. Did you know, I wonder, as the poison touched your soul? In those last moments, as you lay upon the floor with me kneeling by you, did you know that it was I who put the black powder in your wine? Did you?’ He gazed once more into the cold eyes. ‘Why did you never love me?’ he asked.

But the statue was silent still.

*

The twelve days lost beyond the Gate cost the questors dear, for a savage blizzard kept them trapped within the cabin for eighteen days. Food ran short and Finn almost died after setting off to hunt for meat. After killing a deer, he was caught in a second blizzard and had to take refuge in a cave. An avalanche blocked the entrance and it was only through the magic of Okas that Chareos and the others found the hunter and dug a tunnel through to him.

The winter storms eased off on the nineteenth day, but even then it took another three weeks before the exhausted group topped the last rise before Tavern Town.

Beltzer led the way down to the inn, pounding on the door and calling for Naza. The little man shouted with delight when he saw the giant and embraced him.

‘I feared you dead,’ he said. ‘Come in, come in! Mael has just lit the fire. It will soon be warm. Come in!’

‘Where is everyone?’ asked Kiall.

‘They don’t fell the timber at this time of year,’ replied Naza. ‘There will be no one here for another two months. Most of the passes are blocked. Sit down by the fire. I will fetch you some wine.’ His smile faded as Okas entered the tavern. ‘He’s . . . he’s . . .’ stammered the innkeeper.

‘Yes, he is,’ said Chareos swiftly. ‘He is also a friend who, like us, last ate three days ago.’

‘Wine first,’ grunted Beltzer, throwing his arm around Naza’s shoulder and leading him back towards the cellar.

The flames took hold of the logs and began to rise, but even so it was cold inside the inn. Chareos pulled up a chair and sat. His eyes were dull, and purple rings showed under them. Even the hardy Finn was exhausted. Only Okas and Kiall seemed none the worse for the ordeal in the mountains. The old man had been untroubled by the cold, and the youngster had grown in strength as the days passed.

‘We’re too old for this,’ said Finn, reading Chareos’ thoughts. Chareos nodded, too tired to reply. Returning with wine, Beltzer thrust a poker deep into the fire and waited until the iron glowed red and bright. Then he plunged it into the wine pitcher. He poured five goblets and handed one to each of the questors. He downed his own swiftly and refilled the goblet. Naza brought them bread, smoked cheese and cold meat.

After the meal Chareos slowly climbed the stairs to the upper guest room, pulled off his boots and was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the bolster. Maggrig and Finn took a second room, while Okas lay down on the stone hearth and slept before the fire.

Beltzer and Kiall sat together, the giant calling out for a third pitcher of wine.

Mael brought it. ‘I take it you still have no money?’ she asked.

‘Oh yes, he has,’ said Kiall. ‘Pay the bill, Beltzer.’

Beltzer muttered a curse and dipped into his pocket, producing a thick gold ring. Mael took it, judging the weight. ‘That should settle about half of what you owe Naza,’ she said, leaving her hand extended.

‘You are a hard woman,’ grumbled Beltzer. He fished around in his pocket, seeking a small token, but he had only larger items. Finally he produced a wristband. ‘That’s worth ten times what I owe,’ he told her.

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