The corridor beyond should have been in total darkness, but a strange green light glowed from the walls. Tenaka dropped to his hands and knees and crawled forward, scanning the walls on either side. There must be more traps. But where?
The corridor ended at a circular stair, dipping down into the bowels of the tomb. Tenaka studied the first few steps – they seemed solid. The wall alongside was panelled with cedar. Tenaka sat on the top stair. Why panel a stairwell?
He ripped a section of cedar from the wall and moved on down the stairs, testing each step. Halfway down he felt a slight movement beneath his right foot and withdrew it. Taking the cedar plank, he laid it flat against the edges of the steps and then lay back upon it and lifted his feet. The plank began to slide. It hit the rigged steps at speed and Tenaka felt the ‘whoosh’ of a steel blade slice above his head. The plank increased speed, hurtling down the stairs. Thrice more it triggered death-traps, but such was the speed of the makeshift sled that Tenaka was untouched. He thrust his booted feet against the walls to slow himself down, his arms and legs being battered and bruised as the journey continued.
The plank hit the ground at the foot of the stairs, pitching Tenaka through the air. Instantly, he relaxed, curling his body into a ball. The air was punched from him as he hit the far wall. He grunted and rolled to his knees. Gingerly he touched his ribs; at least one felt broken. He glanced round the chamber. Where was Saddleskull? The answer came seconds later: hearing the clatter on the stairs, Tenaka grinned and moved away from the stairwell. Saddleskull hurtled by him – his plank smashing to shards, his body cartwheeling into the far wall. Tenaka winced at the impact.
Saddleskull groaned and staggered to his feet; spying Tenaka, he drew himself upright.
‘It didn’t take me long to work out your plan, half-blood!’
‘You surprise me. How did you get behind me?’
‘I hid by the body.’
‘Well, we are here,’ said Tenaka, pointing to the sarcophagus on the raised dais at the centre of the chamber. ‘All that remains is to claim the helm.’
‘Yes,’ said Saddleskull warily.
‘Open the coffin,’ said Tenaka smiling.
‘You open it.’
‘Come now, cousin. We cannot spend the rest of our lives here. We will open it together.’
Saddleskull’s eyes narrowed. The coffin would almost certainly be rigged and he did not want to die. But if he allowed Tenaka to open the coffin, he would gain not only the helm but, more importantly, Ulric’s sword.
Saddleskull grinned. ‘Very well,’ he said. Together!’
They moved to the coffin and heaved at the marble lid, which creaked open. The two men gave a final push and the lid fell to the floor, breaking into three pieces. Saddleskull lunged for the sword that lay on the chest of the skeleton within. Tenaka seized the helm and leapt to the far side of the coffin. Saddle-skull chuckled.
‘Well, cousin. Now what will you do?’
‘I have the helm,’ said Tenaka.
Saddleskull leapt forward, slashing wildly, but Tenaka jumped clear, keeping the coffin between them.
‘We could do this for ever,’ said Tenaka. ‘We could spend eternity running round and round this coffin.’
His opponent hawked and spat. There was truth in what Tenaka said – the sword was useless unless he could get within range.
‘Give me the helm,’ said Saddleskull. ‘Then we can both live. Agree to serve me and I will make you my Warmaster.’
‘No, I will not serve you,’ said Tenaka. ‘But you can have the helm if you agree to one condition.’
‘Name it!’
‘That you let me lead thirty thousand riders into the Drenai.’
‘What? Why?’
‘We can discuss that later. Do you swear?’
‘I do. Give me the helm.’
As Tenaka tossed the helm across the coffin, Saddleskull caught it deftly and pushed it on his head, wincing as a sharp edge of metal pricked his scalp.
‘You are a fool, Tenaka. Did Asta not say that only one would return? Now I have it all.’