‘As you wish, Rajnee.’ Matze Chai leaned forward and peered at Yu Yu Liang. ‘And who is this – this person?’
‘I am Yu Yu Liang. And I helped fight the demons.’ Yu Yu raised his sword and puffed out his chest. ‘When the demons came we leapt and cut—’ he began excitedly.
‘Stop!’ said Matze Chai, raising a slender hand. Yu Yu fell silent. ‘Stand still and say nothing.’ Matze Chai turned his attention to Kysumu. ‘You and I will continue this conversation in my palanquin once we are on our way.’ Casting a malevolent glance at Yu Yu the merchant disappeared back inside his tent. Kysumu walked away.
Yu Yu ran after him. ‘I didn’t know these swords could shine like that.’
‘Neither did I.’
‘Oh. I thought you could explain it to me. We make a good team, though, hey?’
Kysumu wondered briefly if he had committed some great sin in a former life, and Yu Yu was a punishment for it. He glanced up into the taller man’s bearded face, then walked away without a word.
‘Good team,’ he heard Yu Yu say.
Walking back across the camp Kysumu could find no trace of the severed arm, but on the edge of the woods he found many tracks of three-toed taloned feet. Liu, the young captain of the guard, approached him. The man’s eyes were frightened and he cast nervous glances into the woods. ‘I heard your pupil say they were demons.’
‘He is not my pupil.’
‘Ah, forgive me, sir. But you think they were demons?’
‘I have never before seen a demon,’ said Kysumu softly. ‘But we can discuss it once we are on the road and away from these woods.’
‘Yes, sir. Whatever they were it was fortunate that your – your friend was on hand to aid us with his shining sword.’
‘He is not my friend,’ said Kysumu. ‘But, yes, it was fortunate.’
Matze Chai sat in his palanquin, the silk curtains drawn shut. ‘You think they were demons?’ he asked the little swordsman.
‘I can think of no alternative. I cut the limb from one and it burned in the sunlight as if in a furnace.’
‘I have not heard of demons in this part of the world but, then, my knowledge of Kydor is limited. My client said nothing of them when he invited me here.’ Matze Chai fell silent. He had once used a sorcerer to summon a demon and kill a business rival. The rival had been found the following morning with his heart torn out. Matze Chai had never really known whether the supernatural was genuinely involved, or whether the sorcerer had merely hired a killer. The sorcerer himself had been impaled two years later, following an attempted coup against the Gothir emperor. It was said that a horned demon had appeared within the palace and killed several guards. Could it be, he wondered, that one of Matze’s many enemies had hired a magicker to send the creatures in the mist to kill him? He dismissed the thought almost immediately. The murdered sentry had been at the far end of the camp, furthest from his tent, as had the butchered horses. Surely a spell aimed at Matze Chai himself would have focused upon the tent where he lay? A random incident, then, but a disquieting one. ‘Liu tells me that your sword shone like the brightest moonlight. I have not heard of this before. Are the swords of the Rajnee magical?’
‘I had not thought them to be,’ said Kysumu.
‘Can you think of an explanation?’
‘The rituals of the Rajnee are ancient. Each sword is blessed with one hundred and forty-four incantations. The iron ore is blessed before smelting, the steel is blessed, the armourer-priest tempers it with his own blood after three days of fasting and prayer. Finally it is laid upon the temple altar at Riashon, and all the monks join together in that most holy of places to give the sword its name and its final blessing. The swords of the Rajnee are unique. No one knows the origins of many of the incantations, and some are spoken in a language no longer understood, even by the priests who utter them.’