‘Oshi, take a knife and despatch the beast. There is no sport there.’
Asta Khan cackled loudly, rocking back and forth on his haunches.
Chien ignored him. ‘Tell me of Tenaka Khan,’ he said and the old man took a deep breath.
‘He was the sun and moon of the Nadir people – but he was cursed with tainted blood. Half Drenai, half Nadir, he allowed himself to love a woman. I do not mean to take her for his own – although he did this. But he surrendered his soul to her. She died giving birth to his daughter Tanaki, and in dying she took part of the Khan’s soul to Hell or Heaven. He ceased to care about his life, allowing the years to drift by. His son, Jungir, poisoned him. That is Tenaka Khan. What more do you wish to know?’
‘You were his shaman?’
‘I was and I am. I am Asta Khan. I placed the Helm of Ulric on his head. I rode beside him when he conquered the Drenai, and the Vagrians, when the armies of the Nadir rode into Mashrapur and Lentria. He was the fulfilment of our dreams. He should never have died. He should have lived for ever, like a god!’
‘And what do you seek, Asta Khan?’ asked Chien. ‘Not merely vengeance?’
Asta’s eyes shone for a moment, then he looked away. ‘What I desire is of no concern to you. It is enough that I can give you that which you desire.’
‘At this moment I desire nothing more than a hot bath.’
‘Then you shall have one,’ said Asta, rising. ‘Follow me.’ The old man rose and walked to the back of the cave, where a shallow pool had filled with melted snow from a fissure above. Asta knelt by it, dipping his hand to the water. He closed his eyes and spoke three harsh-sounding words which were lost on Chien. The water began to bubble and hiss, steam rising.
‘A hot bath for the Kiatze lord,’ said Asta, standing. ‘Is there anything else you require?’
‘A young concubine to read me the works of Lu-tzan?’
‘Make do with the hot bath,’ Asta told him, striding away.
Chien stripped his clothes and slid into the pool. The water was hot but not uncomfortable, despite having reached boiling point. He recalled the story of Hai-chuan, a young man accused of stealing a royal gem. Hai-chuan had pleaded innocence, and was sentenced to trial by ordeal. He had to place his hands in a pot of boiling water. If he was innocent, the gods would protect his flesh; if guilty, his skin would blister and burst. He was from the mountains and he begged the magistrate to allow him to suffer his ordeal directly under the gaze of the All-father in Heaven. Touched by his piety, the magistrate agreed and Hai-chuan was taken to the top of a high mountain. There they boiled a pot of water and he placed his hands within it. There was not a mark upon him – and he was freed. Later he sold the gem and lived like a prince. Chien smiled. It was due to the altitude, he knew. Water boiled at a much lower temperature in the mountains.
He lazed for a while in the water, then climbed out and returned to the fire to sit, naked, by the flames.
Oshi had cut the best pieces from the loins of the doe, and the smell of cooking meat filled the cave.
‘Now tell me of the ghosts-yet-to-be,’ said Chien.
*
Tanaki watched the men ride away, then eased herself to her feet, stifling a groan as pain roared through her. Unsteadily she rose and straightened her back. Nausea threatened to swamp her, but she forced her stomach to remain calm.
‘You should rest,’ said Kiall, who had moved alongside her, one hand held out.
She made no reply. Bending to one side, she gently stretched the muscles of her waist and hips. Lifting her arms over her head, she eased the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her father had taught her these exercises many years before. ‘The warrior’s body,’ he had said, ‘must always be supple.’ More confident now, she spun on her heel and leapt, twisting in the air. She landed clumsily.