‘Yet you must drink,’ Chorin-Tsu insisted.
‘Tell me the purpose of the game, old one. Then I shall decide.’
‘I know you can throw a knife, Talisman, this I have seen. But can you think’} Are you worthy to serve the Uniter – to bring him to our people? As you rightly surmise, one of the cups contains a deadly poison. Death will follow if it even touches your lips. The other contains nothing but water. How will you choose?’
‘There is insufficient information,’ said Talisman.
‘You are wrong.’
Talisman sat quietly, his mind working at the problem. He closed his eyes, recalling every word spoken by the old man. Leaning forward he lifted the left-hand cup, twirling it in his fingers; then the right. Both were identical. Transferring his gaze to the rug he gave a rare smile. It was embroidered with the same set of symbols as the target. And below the left-hand cup was the oval and the talon. Lifting the cup, he tasted the water. It was sweet and cool.
‘Good, you are observant,’ said Chorin-Tsu. ‘But is it not amazing that you should have thrown the knife to the exact symbol, when there were twelve others to strike?’
‘How did you know I would strike it?”
‘It was written thus in the stars. Nosta Khan knew it also. He knew it through his Talent, whereas I knew it through study. Now, answer me this: What is the third test?’
Talisman took a deep breath. ‘The talon was the mark of Oshikai Demon-bane, the oval the symbol of his wife, Shul-sen. When Oshikai wished to wed Shul-sen her father set him three tasks, the first was one of marksmanship, the second concerned intelligence, the third . . . required a sacrifice. Oshikai had to slay a demon, who had been his friend. I know no demons, Chorin-Tsu.’
‘As with all myths, my boy, they serve a purpose beyond the richness of the tales. Oshikai was a reckless man, given to great rages. The demon was merely a part of himself, the wild and dangerous side of his personality. Shul-sen’s father knew this, and wanted Oshikai to pledge himself to love her till the end of his days – never to harm her, never to put her aside for another.’
‘What has this to do with me?’
‘Everything.’ Chorin-Tsu clapped his hands together. The door opened and a young Chiatze woman entered. She bowed to both men, then knelt and touched her head to the floor at Chorin-Tsu’s feet. Talisman gazed at her in the candlelight. She was exquisitely beautiful, with raven-dark hair and wide, almond-shaped eyes. Her mouth was full, her figure trim within a white silk blouse and long satin skirt.
‘This is Zhusai, my grand-daughter. It is my wish that you take her with you on your quest. It is also the wish of Nosta Khan, and your father.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘No more will be said. You will leave my home and journey back to the tents of your people.’
‘And my quest?’
‘Will continue without my aid.’
‘I am not ready for a wife. I have dedicated my life to the pursuit of revenge and the Day of the Uniter. But even were I to consider marriage, then as the son of a chieftain it would be my right to choose my own woman. It would certainly be my wish that she be Nadir. I have great respect for the Chiatze – but they are not my people.’
Chorin-Tsu leaned forward. ‘Leaders have no rights; that is one of the great secrets of leadership. However, you miss the point, young man. Zhusai is not to be your wife. She is pledged to the Uniter; she will be the Shul-sen to his Oshikai.’
‘Then I do not understand,’ admitted Talisman, relieved. ‘What sacrifice is required of me ?’
‘Do you accept Zhusai into your custody? Will you protect her with your life?’
‘If that is required, so be it,’ promised Talisman. ‘Now what is the sacrifice?’
‘Perhaps there will be none. Zhusai, show our guest to his room.’ The young woman bowed once more, then rose silently and led Talisman from the chamber.