A gasp went up from the crowd, followed by a stunned silence. ‘Step forth, Talisman,’ commanded the shaman.
Talisman rose from the centre of the group and made his way through the ranks to stand beside the shaman. ‘This is the man who led the defenders at the Shrine of Oshikai Demon-bane. This is the man who inflicted defeat upon the gajin. Today, with pride, he will take his Nadir name, and be remembered for all time as a great Wolfshead hero.’ Turning to Talisman, he said, ‘Give me the Eyes, my boy.’
‘In a moment,’ said Talisman. The young warrior turned to the assembly. ‘The Shrine of Oshikai stands,’ he said, his voice ringing out. ‘It stands because Nadir warriors aimed straight and stood tall. Here in this place I praise Bartsai, leader of the Curved Horn, who died defending the bones of Oshikai. Here in this place I praise Kzun of the Lone Wolves, who was slain leading Curved Horn warriors in defence of our holiest Shrine. Here in this place I praise Quing-chin of the Fleet Ponies, who was maimed and butchered by the gajin. Here in this place I praise Lin-tse of the Sky Riders. And I bring a new warrior to the ranks of the Wolves. Come forward, Gorkai.’
Gorkai rose and marched to the front. Across his shoulder he carried a long hammer with a head of heavy iron. ‘This is Gorkai, who was Notas, and is now Wolfshead.
‘Nosta Khan has told you that the Day of the Uniter is close, and he is right. It is time to put aside the stupidity of the past. Look at you all! You are Wolfshead, and yet you sit here with your champions behind you, fearing the brothers who sit beside you. Rightly fearing them! For given the chance there is not one of you who would not slay the other in order to rule. Each man here is an enemy. It is folly of the worst kind. While the Gothir wax rich, we starve. While the Gothir raid our villages, we plan wars among ourselves. Why is this? Were we born stupid?
‘Centuries ago, wise men of the Nadir committed an act of appalling stupidity. They drew the magic from the land and set it in these,’ he said, drawing the Eyes of Alchazzar from the pocket of his goatskin jerkin. The jewels shone in the torchlight as he raised them up.
‘The power of the steppes and the mountains,’ he said. ‘The magic of the Gods of Stone and Water. Trapped here . . . with these purple jewels any man here could be khan. He could be immortal. I saw their power. I was struck down at the Shrine, pierced through the body, yet I have no scar.’
All eyes were upon the jewels now, and he felt the lust in every gaze.
‘The Eyes of Alchazzar!’ he shouted, his voice echoing around the cavern. ‘But does any man here believe that Bartsai or Kzun or Quing-chin died so that one petty Wolfshead leader could command the magic of the Gods of Stone and Water ? Is any one of you worthy to wield this power? If he is here, let him stand now and tell us why he deserves this honour!’
The leaders glanced one to another, but no-one moved.
Talisman spun on his heel and walked to the Stone Wolf. Reaching up he pressed the stones back into the eye-sockets. Then turning once more he gestured to Gorkai, who threw the long hammer through the air. Talisman caught it.
‘No!’ screamed Nosta Khan.
Talisman took one step back, then swung the hammer in a mighty blow, the iron connecting with the stone brow and shattering the wolf’s head. In that moment the jewels flared in a blinding blaze of purple light, engulfing Talisman and filling the cavern. Lightning crackled between the stalactites and a great rumble, like distant thunder, caused the cavern floor to tremble and groan.
Dust fell from the ceiling, the purple light shining upon the motes like a thousand jewels hanging in the air. As the dust settled and the light faded, Talisman dropped the hammer and stood staring at the ruins of the Stone Wolf. Of the Eyes of Alchazzar there was no sign.