‘Oh,’ came his voice, ‘oh, it is good to breathe again!’
Tenaka Khan moved to the postern gate. At that moment Tanaki ran from the guardhouse. ‘Kiall!’ she screamed, ‘oh, please don’t do this.’
She flung herself into his arms and Tenaka kissed the top of her head.
‘I will come back,’ he said softly. ‘He cannot beat me.’
‘But he can. He is the greatest swordsman since my father. There is not a man alive – save perhaps Chareos – who could best him.’
‘Did you love your father?’ he asked.
‘You know that I did. More than anything.’
‘And do you love me?’ he asked. Trapped behind his own eyes, Kiall despaired of the answer.
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I am for you, Kiall. Now and always.’
‘Your father loved you,’ he said. ‘You were the joy Renya left . . . him. Watch from the battlements – and fear nothing. Kiall will come back to you. I promise, Naki.’
He turned to the gate, opened the bolts and walked towards the waiting horde. For a moment Tanaki was stunned. He had seemed so different, and he had used her pet name – the name she carried as a child. She swung to Asta Khan.
‘What have you done?’ she shouted. The old man said nothing, but returned to the still form of Chareos. The Blademaster opened his eyes.
‘I kept my bargain,’ whispered Asta. ‘Will you keep yours?’
‘I will,’ answered Chareos. ‘What is happening?’
‘Kiall has gone outside to battle with Jungir Khan.’
‘By the Source, no,’ groaned Chareos. ‘Help me to the battlements.’ The wiry shaman pulled Chareos to his feet and half carried him to the steps. Painfully Chareos eased his way up to the ramparts.
Out on the valley floor Tenaka Khan strode out confidently to meet his son. Jungir carried the jewelled blade given to him by Chien-tsu. Tenaka drew the cavalry sabre, tested it for weight and then hurled it aside. He walked past the surprised Jungir, halting before an old man on a grey pony.
‘They told me on the battlements that you were Subodai, the oldest friend of Tenaka Khan,’ he said.
The grim-eyed old man nodded his head.
‘Would you loan me one of the short swords Tenaka gave you on your last meeting.’
The old man looked closely at the figure of Kiall, at the stance and the tilt of the head, at the grey eyes that fixed to his own. He shivered and drew his sword, reversing it and handing it to the young man without a word.
Tenaka turned and swung the blade twice. He returned to Jungir Khan.
‘When you are ready, Highness,’ he said.
Jungir launched a lightning thrust. Tenaka parried it – and stepped in close. ‘Did you think the poison would keep me from you, my son?’ he whispered.
Jungir blanched. His face darkened and he attacked again – and again. But each time the dazzling blade of Tenaka Khan blocked his approach. As the battle moved further from the watching warriors, Jungir aimed a wild cut. Tenaka blocked it, and stepped inside once more.
‘Asta smuggled my bones here years ago. Yet I can still taste the poison from your cup.’
‘Stop it!’ screamed Jungir. His sword lowered a fraction and Tenaka Khan leapt forward, twisting the blade from his grasp. It fell in the dirt ten paces away.
‘Pick it up,’ ordered Tenaka. Jungir scrambled for the blade and ran at Tenaka, offering no defence. Before he could stop himself Tenaka instinctively rammed his sword home into his son’s chest. Jungir sagged against him.
‘I loved you, Father,’ he said, ‘and you never cared for me. Not once.’
Tenaka seized his son and sank with him to the earth, tears filling his eyes. ‘Oh, my son! I was so proud of you. But I wanted you to be a strong man – a Nadir man. And I never showed my feelings – save for Tanaki. Yet I loved you – and your brothers. Jungir . . . Jungir!’
But the Khan was dead.
Tenaka stood with head bowed by the body. He wrenched the sword clear and flung it from him, then he knelt by his dead son.