Chareos was alone. He could not remember travelling to Bel-azar, but that did not seem to matter. He felt, in some strange way, that he was home – safe among the ghosts of the past.
Safe? Dark shapes moved at the edge of his vision, vanishing into the shadows as he swung to confront them. He backed away to the rotted gate-tower door and climbed the spiral steps to the circular battlement. There he drew his sword and waited. He could hear the scratching of talons on the stairway, smell the fetid odours of the dwellers in the dark: slime on fur, the sweet, sickly stink from mouths that fed on corpses.
He slammed shut the top door. There was no bolt and he dropped his sword into the catch, wedging the door shut. Heavy bodies beat upon the wood. ‘Beltzer!’ called Chareos. ‘Help me!’ But there was no answer. ‘Maggrig, Finn!’
‘It would seem you are alone, kinsman,’ said a quiet voice and Chareos turned slowly, knowing whom he would see. The tall man sat on the battlement’s edge, his black hair tied at the nape of the neck, his violet eyes seeming grey in the moonlight.
‘Will you help me?’ whispered Chareos.
‘Blood always aids blood, my friend. Are you not my kinsman?’
‘Yes. Yes, I am. Will you help me? Please?’
The door splintered and a taloned hand broke through, ripping at the wood.
‘Begone!’ shouted Tenaka Khan. The hissing cries beyond the doorway faded into silence and the hand slid back from view.
‘Are they your creatures?’ Chareos asked.
‘No, but they know a voice of power. And they can smell fear like a lion smells blood. Why are you afraid, Chareos?’
‘I don’t know how I came here. I am alone.’
‘That is not an answer. Fear brought you, but what caused the fear?’
Chareos laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. ‘You can ask that? You who slew my father and mother and made me an outcast? I should hate you, Tenaka. Once I thought I did. But then you climbed alone to this tower, and you sat and talked with us.’ Chareos stared at the man before him. He was dressed exactly as he had been on that night so many years ago, in black riding-boots and leather leggings, topped by a shirt of black silk embroidered with silver. ‘You called me kinsman,’ whispered Chareos. ‘You know who I am?’
‘I knew you when first I saw you on this tower,’ answered Tenaka. ‘Blood recognises blood.’
‘I should have killed you!’ hissed Chareos, ‘for all the pain. I was twelve when they sent me from Dros Delnoch. The night when your hordes finally stormed the last wall, I was taken from the fortress and brought to the lands of the Gothir. My father’s last words to me were, “Avenge me, my son. And remember the Drenai”. My mother was already dead. And for what? So that a treacherous cur like you could take Nadir savages into the last bastion of civilisation. What caused my fear? You dare ask me that?’
‘I still ask it,’ replied the Khan smoothly. ‘And all you tell me is a history I already know.’
‘You were descended from the Earl of Bronze and raised by the Drenai. How could you destroy them?’
‘How indeed?’ replied the Khan. ‘If you truly knew the story of my life, you would not ask such a question. As you know, I was raised by the Nadir until I was fourteen. You think you were the only child who ever suffered pain and rejection? I was hated for being part Drenai. Then I was sent, as part of my mother’s marriage agreement, to live among the Drenai. Were they different from the Nadir? No. To them I was a savage from the Steppes – something they could bait and torture. Yet I learned to live among them. And I fought for them. I rode with the Dragon. I even made a few friends among them. But when the mad emperor Ceska brought terror to the land, I risked my life and my soul to aid the Drenai. I paid my debt to them. I brought the Nadir to crush the emperor’s army, and I allowed Rayvan and your father to form a new republic. Why did I take Dros Delnoch years later? Because I was the Khan! Because the day of the Nadir had dawned. Yet if I can be accused of treachery, what of you? Why did you not obey your father’s command? Why did you not return home?’