Sieben sat down alongside the shaman. ‘Not a forgiving people, are you?’
Nosta Khan gave a rare smile. ‘Our babies die in childbirth. Our men are hunted down like animals. Our villages are burnt, our people slaughtered. Why for should we forgive?’
‘So what is the answer, old man? For the Nadir to mass into a huge army and hunt down the gajin like animals, burning their villages and towns, and slaughtering their women and children?’
‘Yes! That is how it will begin. Until we have conquered the world, and enslaved every race.’
‘Then you will be no different from the gajin you despise. Is that not so?’
‘We do not seek to be different,’ replied Nosta Khan. ‘We seek to be triumphant.’
‘A charmingly honest point of view,’ “said the poet. ‘Tell me, why are they travelling through the Void?’
‘Honour,’ said Nosta Khan admiringly. ‘Talisman is a great man. Were he destined to live he would make a fine general for the Uniter.’
‘He is going to die?’
‘Yes,’ said Nosta Khan sadly. ‘I have walked the many futures but he is in none of them. Now be silent, for I have much work to do.’
From his pouch Nosta Khan removed two small, dry leaves, which he placed under his tongue. Raising his hands, bony fingers spread wide, he closed his eyes. The bodies of Druss and Talisman began to glow, radiating lights of many colours – purple around the heart, bright white pulsing from their heads, red from the lower torso, white and yellow from the legs. It was an extraordinary sight. Sieben remained silent until Nosta Khan sighed and opened his eyes.
‘What did you do to them?’ whispered the poet.
‘Nothing,’ answered Nosta Khan. ‘I have merely made their life force visible. He is a powerful man, this Druss. See how the energy of his zhi dwarfs that of Talisman ? And Talisman is greater than most men.’ Sieben gazed at the glowing figures. It was true. The radiance around Druss extended to almost three feet, while Talisman’s flickered no more than a foot from his torso.
‘What is this . . . zhi? asked Sieben.
Nosta Khan was silent for a moment. ‘No man fully understands the mystery,’ he said. ‘The energy flows around the human body, bringing life and health. It flickers and changes when disease strikes. I have seen old men with the rheumatic in their arms where the zhi no longer flows. And I have seen mystic healers transfuse their own zhi into the sick, making them healthy again. It is connected in some way to the soul. After death, for example, the zhi flares to five times its size. This happens for three days. Then, in a heartbeat, it is gone.’
‘But why have you chosen to make it visible?’
‘Their souls have gone to a place of untold dangers, where they will be fighting demons. Each cut they take, each wound they suffer, will affect the zhi. I will watch, and when they come close to death I hope to be able to draw them back.’
‘You mean you are not certain of your ability to do this?’
‘In Giragast there is no certainty,’ snapped Nosta Khan. ‘Imagine a fight here. A soldier is wounded in the arm; he suffers, but lives. Another man is struck to the heart; he dies instantly. Such can happen in the Void. I can see the wounds they suffer there. But a death blow will extinguish the zhi in an instant.’
‘But you said the zhi flares for three days after death,’ Sieben pointed out.
‘That is when the soul is within the body. Theirs are not.’
The two men lapsed into silence. For several minutes nothing happened, then Talisman’s body jerked. The bright colours around him flickered, and a green glow showed on his right leg. ‘It has begun,’ said Nosta Khan.
An hour passed, the candle-flame burning down to the first of the black lines marked upon its shaft. Sieben found the tension hard to bear. Rising, he went outside to the eastern wall where he had left his saddle-bags. Pulling out a fresh shirt of white linen, embroidered with gold thread, he donned it. Talisman’s servant, Gorkai, approached him. ‘Do they still live?’ he asked.