Lin-tse sat on a rock sharpening his sword, his face impassive and his anger masked. Of all the men in the world, the last he wished to kill was Dalsh-chin. Yet such was his fate, and a true man never whined when the Gods of Stone and Water twisted the knife! The whetstone slid along the sabre’s edge and Lin-tse imagined the silver steel blade slicing through Dalsh-chin’s neck. He swore softly, then stood and stretched his back.
At the last there had only been four Nadir janizaries at the Academy – himself, Dalsh-chin, the miserable Green Monkey boy, Zhen-shi, and the strange one from the Wolfshead, Okai. Some of the others had fled, most had simply failed their examinations miserably – much to the delight of Gargan, Lord Larness. One had been hanged after killing an officer; another had committed suicide. The experiment – as Lord Larness intended -had been a failure. Yet much to the Gothir general’s chagrin four Nadir youngsters had consistently passed the examinations. And one – Okai – excelled above all other students including the general’s own son, Argo.
Lin-tse scabbarded his sword and walked out on to the steppes. His thoughts turned to Zhen-shi, with his frightened eyes and his nervous smile. Tormented and abused, he had fawned around the Gothir cadets, especially Argo, serving him like a slave. ‘Grinning Monkey’, Argo called him and Lin-tse had despised the youth for his cowardice. Zhen-shi carried few scars, but then he was everything the Gothir boys had been taught to expect of a barbarian – subservient and inferior to the civilized races.
Yet he had made a mistake – and it had cost him his life. In the end-of-year examinations he had outscored all but Okai. Lin-tse still remembered the look on Zhen-shi’s face when the results were announced. At first his delight was obvious but then, as he gazed at Argo and the others, the full horror of his plight dawned on him. Grinning Monkey had beaten them all. No longer did they see him as an object of scorn or derision. Now he became a figure of hate. Little Zhen-shi had withered under their malevolent gazes.
That night Zhen-shi had plunged from the roof, his body crushed to pulp on the snow-covered cobbles below.
It was winter, the night harsh and cold, ice forming on the insides of the glass windows. Yet Zhen-shi had been dressed only in a loincloth. Hearing the scream as he fell, Lin-tse had looked out of the window and saw his scrawny body leaking blood to the snow. He and Okai had run out with scores of other boys, and stood over the corpse. The body bore the red weals of a lash on the back, buttocks and thighs. The wrists were also bleeding.
‘He was tied,’ said Lin-tse. Okai did not answer; he was staring up at the gable from which Zhen-shi had fallen. The rooms on that top level were reserved for the senior cadets from noble families. But the nearest window was that of Argo. Lin-tse followed Okai’s gaze. The blond-haired son of Gargan was leaning on his window-sill, and gazing down with mild interest on the scene below.
‘ Did you see what happened, Argo ?’ someone shouted.
‘The little monkey tried to climb the roof. I think he was drunk.’ Then he leaned back and slammed shut his window.
Okai turned to Lin-tse and the two boys walked back to their room. Dalsh-chin was waiting for them. Once inside they squatted on the floor and spoke Nadir in low voices.
‘Argo sent for Zhen-shi,’ whispered Dalsh-chin, ‘three hours ago.’
‘He was tied and beaten,’ said Okai. ‘He could not stand pain, and therefore must have also been gagged. Otherwise we would have heard the screams. There will be an inquiry.’
‘It will find,’ said Lin-tse, ‘that Grinning Monkey, having consumed too much alcohol in celebration of his success, fell from the roof. A salutary lesson that barbarians have no tolerance for strong drink.’
‘That is true, my friend,’ said Okai. ‘But we will make them suffer – as Zhen-shi suffered.’
‘A pleasing thought,’ said Lin-tse. ‘And how will this miracle be accomplisheo?’
Okai sat silently for a moment. Lin-tse would never forget what followed. Okai’s voice dropped even lower: ‘The re-building work on the north tower is not yet complete. The labourers will not return for three days. It is deserted. Tomorrow night we will wait until everyone is asleep, then we will go there and prepare the way for vengeance.’