‘You will feel it again, surely, when we find the Men of Clay? You will return to aid us.’
‘I will not return, Kysumu. These are my last moments in the world.’
‘There is so much I want to ask you.’
‘There is only one question that burns in your heart, swordsman. Why were you not chosen to be the pria-shath?’
‘Can you tell me?’
‘Better for you to discover the truth yourself,’ said Qin Chong. ‘Farewell, Kysumu.’ With that he closed his eyes, and was gone.
Niallad was dreaming about his father. They were hawking in the high country close to the castle. His father’s bird, the legendary Eera, had brought down three hares. Nial-lad’s bird, young and newly trained, had flown to a nearby tree and would not come down at his call.
‘You must have patience,’ said his father, as they sat together. ‘Bird and man never form a friendship. It is a partnership. As long as you feed him he will stay with you. He will not, however, offer you loyalty or friendship.’
‘I thought he liked me. He dances whenever I come close.’
‘We shall see.’
They had waited for some hours, and then the hawk had flown away, never to return.
Niallad awoke. For a heartbeat he felt warm and secure in his father’s love. Then, with terrible ferocity, reality smote him and he groaned aloud. He sat up, his heart breaking. Emrin was asleep on the ground close by. The Grey Man was seated upon a rock close to the horses. He did not look round. His figure was silhouetted by the bright moon and Niallad guessed he was staring back over the moonlit plain, seeking signs of pursuit. He had rejoined them some hours before, leading them to this high, lonely place, bordering the trees. The Grey Man had said little to him.
The young man rose from his blanket and strolled to where the Grey Man sat. ‘May I join you?’ he asked. The Grey Man nodded. Niallad sat alongside him on the flat rock. ‘I am sorry for my words earlier. It was ungrateful of me. Without you I would have been killed by a man I trusted. And Emrin would be dead.’
‘You were not wrong,’ said the Grey Man. ‘I am a killer. Did you have a bad dream?’
‘No, a good one.’
‘Ah, yes. They can hurt worse than fire on the soul.’
‘I cannot believe my father is dead,’ said Niallad. ‘I thought he would either live for ever or die swinging his great sword and cleaving his enemies.’
‘When it comes, death is usually sudden,’ said the Grey Man.
They sat in silence for a while. Niallad found himself calmed by the Grey Man’s presence. ‘I trusted Gaspir,’ said the boy at last. ‘He had the ability to make me lose my fear. He seemed so strong. So loyal. I shall never trust anyone again.’
‘Do not even think that,’ warned the Grey Man. ‘There are people who are worthy of trust. If you become suspicious of everyone you will never have true friends.’
‘Do you have friends?’
The Grey Man looked at him and smiled. ‘No. Therefore I speak from experience.’
‘What do you think will happen now?’
They’ll be more careful who they send after us. Tough men, trackers, foresters.’
‘Demons?’ asked the boy, trying to disguise his fear.
‘Aye, and demons,’ agreed the Grey Man.
‘We are beaten, aren’t we? Panagyn and Aric have thousands of men. I have nothing. If I was to make it back to the capital I wouldn’t know where to go.’
‘The armies mean nothing without men to lead them,’ said the Grey Man. ‘When I have you in a place of safety I shall return. Then we will see.’
‘You would go back to Carlis? Why?’
The Grey Man did not answer, but pointed down to the plain below. In the distance Niallad could see a line of riders. ‘Wake Emrin,’ ordered the Grey Man. ‘It is time to be moving.’
Yu Yu groaned as he awoke. He felt as if a herd of oxen had spent the night walking across his body. With a grunt of pain he struggled up. Kysumu was at the mouth of the cave, his sword in his lap. ‘I don’t want to be a hero,’ grumbled Yu Yu.