Sieben sat down. ‘Not at all, it was my pleasure,’ he said, not loud enough to be heard by the departing warriors.
Once more extinguishing the lantern, he left the building by a side door and found himself standing close to the main entrance to the Shrine. With Niobe otherwise occupied, and with nothing else to do, Sieben pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Something about the place had been nagging at him from the subconscious, but he could not bring it to the surface. His eyes were drawn to the blackened iron plate on the stone coffin. The symbols upon it were Chiatze, part alphabet, part hieroglyph, and Talisman had told him what they said:
Oshikai Demon-bane – Lord of War
Kneeling before it, Sieben scanned the symbols. They were deeply engraved into the iron, and they told him nothing. Irritated that he could not solve the problem, he left the Shrine and climbed to the ramparts of the north wall, where he sat on the parapet in the moonlight gazing out over the distant mountains. His thoughts turned once more to Niobe and her beauty, and he listened a while in vain for the birth sounds of the newborn. Be patient, he told himself. Fishing the lon-tsia from his pocket, he looked at the profile of the woman embossed there. She too was beautiful. Turning the coin over, he looked down at the image of Oshikai. ‘You’re causing a lot of trouble for someone who’s been dead for ten centuries,’ he said.
Then it hit him . . .
Rising, he climbed down the steps and returned to the Shrine, squatting down before the iron plate. Checking Oshikai’s name against the embossing of the lon-tsia, he saw that the name on the plate boasted two extra and identical symbols. Peering more closely, he saw that the engraving of each was deeper than that of the other symbols.
‘What have you found?’ asked Talisman, from the doorway. The slender Nadir leader moved forward and knelt beside the poet.
‘Is this the original plate?’ Sieben asked. ‘Was it made by Oshikai’s followers?’
‘I would imagine so,’ said Talisman. ‘Why?’
‘What are these symbols?’
‘The Nadir letter i.’
‘But the Chiatze had no such letter,’ said Sieben. ‘Therefore the name-plate is either not original, or it has been altered.’
‘I don’t understand your point,’ said Talisman.
Sieben sat back. ‘I don’t like mysteries,’ he said. ‘If this is original there would be no i’s. If it is not, why is it in the Chiatze tongue? Why not fully Nadir?’
Moving forward on his knees, Sieben laid his hands on the plate, pressing a finger into each of the engraved symbols. Something gave way under his pressure, there was a dull clunk from within and the name-plate fell clear. Behind it was a shallow niche cut into the coffin, and within this lay a small pouch of hide. Talisman pushed Sieben aside and grabbed the pouch. As he pulled it open the hide split and the contents fell to the dusty floor. There were two knuckle-bones stained with black symbols, a small coil of braided hair and a piece of folded parchment. Talisman looked disappointed. ‘I thought you had found the Eyes of Alchazzar,’ he said.
Sieben lifted the parchment and tried to open it, but it broke into pieces under his fingers. ‘What are these objects?’ he asked.
‘A shaman’s medicine bag. The knuckle-bones are used in spells of prophecy, the hair is that of the shaman’s greatest enemy. The parchment? I do not know.’
‘Why would it be placed here?’
‘I don’t know,’ snapped Talisman. Reaching down, Sieben picked up the knuckle-bones.
The world spun. He cried out, but was dragged down into the dark . . .
Shocked by his sudden collapse, Talisman knelt over the still figure of the blond Drenai and placed his index finger on the pulse point of the neck. The heart was beating, but incredibly slowly. Roughly he shook Sieben’s shoulders, but there was no response. Rising, he ran from the Shrine. Gorkai was sitting on the ground, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. ‘Fetch Nosta Khan and the Drenai axeman,’ commanded Talisman, then returned to where Sieben lay.