As Yu Yu climbed the stairs to the upper level he found himself remembering her fondly. Although making love to her was like clinging to the back of a greased hippo, the ride had been enjoyable, and he had discovered in Pan Jian an unexpected tenderness. Afterwards she had talked of her life, and her hopes and her dreams. It had been a gentle night, of balmy soft breezes and a bright hunter’s moon. Pan Jian had spoken of finding a small place near the Great River and starting a business, cutting rushes and weaving hats and baskets. Her hands were as big as shovels and Yu Yu had great difficulty picturing her creating delicate articles from straw. But he said nothing. ‘And I’d like a dog,’ she said. ‘One of those small dogs that the magistrate has with him. A white one.’
‘They are very expensive,’ said Yu Yu.
‘But they are so pretty.’ Her voice was wistful, and suddenly in the moonlight her face did not seem ugly to him at all.
‘Have you ever had a dog?’ he asked.
‘Yes. It was a mongrel. Very friendly. Followed me everywhere. She was a lovely dog. Big brown eyes.’
‘She died?’
‘Yes. You remember that awful winter four years ago? The famine?’
Yu Yu had shivered. He remembered, all right. Thousands had died of starvation.
‘I had to eat her,’ said Pan Jian.
Yu Yu nodded sympathetically. ‘How did she taste?’
‘Pretty good,’ said Pan Jian. ‘But a bit stringy.’ Lifting one enormous leg, she pointed down at her fur-edged boot. ‘This was her,’ she said, stroking the fur. ‘I made them so I wouldn’t forget her.’
Yu Yu smiled as he recalled the moment. That was always the way with women, he thought. No matter how tough they seemed they were cursed with sentimentality.
Emerging into the entrance hallway, Yu Yu saw the Grey Man and Kysumu walking out into the sunshine. He hurried across to join them. ‘Are we going somewhere?’ he asked.
‘Do you ride?’ asked the Grey Man.
‘I am a great rider,’ said Yu Yu.
Kysumu stepped in. ‘Have you ever ridden a horse?’
‘No.’
The Grey Man laughed, but there was no mockery in the sound. ‘I have a grey mare famous for her gentle and patient nature. She will teach you how to ride.’
‘Where are we going?’ asked Yu Yu.
‘We are hunting demons,’ said Kysumu.
‘My day is complete,’ said Yu Yu Liang.
They rode for some hours. Initially Yu Yu felt comfortable in the deep saddle. It was exhilarating being so high above the ground. Until, that is, they reached small inclines or depressions where the horses picked up the pace. Yu Yu was bounced painfully around on the saddle.
The Grey Man dropped back and dismounted, adjusting Yu Yu’s stirrups, which were, he said, a little high. ‘It is not easy to find the rhythms of the trot,’ he said, ‘but it will come.’
It could not come soon enough for Yu Yu. After two hours of riding his buttocks were bruised and painful.
Instead of moving directly to the ruins the Grey Man led them along a ridge of high ground overlooking the Eiden Plain. From here an observer could make out the original lines of Kuan-Hador, depressions in the land, showing where mighty walls once stood. From this height the lines of streets could also be seen, linking the edges of ruined buildings. Further to the east, where the city had once abutted the granite cliffs, there were the remains of two round towers, one seeming to have snapped across the middle, huge stones littering the ground for two hundred feet.
The ruins covered a vast area, vanishing into the distance. ‘This was once a huge city,’ said Kysumu. ‘I have never seen the like.’
‘It was called Kuan-Hador,’ said the Grey Man. ‘According to some historians, more than two hundred thousand people lived here.’
‘What happened to them?’ asked Yu Yu, drawing alongside.
‘No one knows,’ the Grey Man told him. ‘Many of the ruins show signs of fire damage, so I would guess it fell during a war.’
Kysumu half drew his sword. The steel shone in the sunlight, but not with the glittering blue radiance it had displayed during the demonic attack.