By all the gods in Heaven, that was a time to be alive!
Beltzer felt the breeze on his face and strolled into the last tunnel.
He stopped in his tracks . . .
There before him were scores of Nadir warriors, creeping in through the entrance. They had not seen him and quickly he stepped back into the shadows.
He thought of his friends, sleeping peacefully some thirty paces away. The Nadir would be upon them in seconds.
But if he stayed where he was, he could be safe. He could live. He had the gold he had buried near Finn’s cabin; that would keep him for years.
Sweet Heaven, I don’t want to die!
He stepped out to stand before the Nadir, the torchlight glinting on his red and silver beard, his axe shining crimson.
‘Nadir!’ he bellowed, the sound echoing through the tunnels. They drew their swords and charged. Never one to wait he lifted his axe, shouted a war-cry and ran to meet them. The blades sliced down and wounded warriors screamed in agony as the giant cut and clove them aside in the narrow tunnel. Swords pierced his flesh, but he felt no pain. A man loomed before him and Beltzer slammed the axe forward, the tips of the butterfly blades skewering his chest. The Nadir fell back. Beltzer staggered, but remained upright.
‘Well, my boys,” he said. ‘You want to be on my mountain? You want to see the sky?’
A warrior drew his bow and let loose a shaft. Beltzer’s axe came up and the arrow glanced from the blades, ripping the skin of Beltzer’s temple. The Nadir charged once more, but in the narrow tunnel they could only come at him three abreast. He roared his anger and lifted the bloodied axe. Four more died, then another three, before they fell back again.
Back in the chamber Chareos had gathered his sword and was sprinting back towards the tunnels, Harokas and the others behind him.
Asta Khan stepped into his path. ‘You can do nothing!’ hissed the old man.
‘He is my friend,’ protested Chareos, reaching out to brush the shaman aside.
‘I know!’ whispered Asta. ‘That is why he is dying for you: to give you a chance. Don’t let him down now. It would break his spirit if you were to die also. Can’t you understand that?’
Chareos groaned. He knew it was true, and the pain of that knowledge was too much.
‘Follow me!’ said Asta, moving off into the darkness. He took the questors to a second chamber, smaller than the first; there he knelt and raised his hands, palms outwards. No words were spoken, but the chamber grew cold, and colder still. Tanaki shivered and leaned in close to Kiall, who lifted his cloak around her shoulders. A deeper darkness formed before the old man and he rose. ‘Follow,’ he commanded. He stepped into the black doorway.
And disappeared . . .
For a moment the questors stood rooted to the spot; then Harokas walked after Asta, followed by Chien and the trembling Oshi.
‘Now you,’ said Chareos to Kiall.
The younger man looked at Chareos, reading the intent in his eyes.
‘No, Chareos. We will go through together – or back together.’
‘I don’t want you to die, boy!’
‘Nor I you – but the shaman is right. Beltzer would not want you there. This is his victory – that we escape.’
Tears stung Chareos’ eyes as he leapt through the doorway. Tanaki and Kiall followed.
The darkness closed around them.
In the tunnel Beltzer found his strength slowly fading. A dagger was jutting from his belly, and blood was pouring from a terrible wound in his upper left arm. The limb hung uselessly at his side and he knew the bone was smashed. Yet still he hefted the axe in his right hand, defying the warriors before him. The tunnel floor was slippery with blood, and the moans of the dying echoed around him.
Again they charged, forcing him back. A sword plunged into his side, breaking his ribs. His axe hammered back to smash a warrior from his feet. Blades licked out at his flesh, piercing him. He roared at the enemy and fell to his knees. They swarmed over him, but he surged up, scattering them. Blood was gushing from his throat and chest, and one eye was closed and bleeding.