‘It seems that you know a great deal about the enemy we faced,’ he said softly.
‘Too much and too little,’ she told him. ‘We will speak after I have aided Mendyr Syn.’
‘We will be outside, upon the terrace,’ said Waylander. Bowing to the priestess, he spun on his heel and left the room.
Kysumu followed him and the two men walked along a wide corridor leading to a terraced flower garden overlooking the bay. The night was clear, and the first hint of a new dawn tinged the sky. Waylander wandered to the marble balustrade and stared out over the gleaming water. ‘What did you learn from your trance?’ he asked Kysumu.
‘Nothing,’ admitted the Rajnee.
‘Yet you are convinced a spirit of a dead Rajnee came to your friend?’
‘Yes.’
‘It makes no sense to me,’ said Waylander. ‘Why would a dead Rajnee contact a labourer yet not appear to one of his own?’
‘That is a question I have pondered upon,’ admitted Kysumu.
Waylander glanced at the little swordsman. ‘And this troubles you?’
‘Of course. I also feel great shame for putting Yu Yu in such danger.’
‘He chose to stand his ground,’ said Waylander. ‘He could have run.’
‘Indeed. It amazes me that he did not.’
‘Would you have run?’ asked Waylander, quietly.
‘No. But, then, I am Rajnee.’
‘Tonight I saw a frightened man, with a shining sword, battling demons to protect a friend. What would you call him?’
Kysumu smiled, then offered a deep bow. ‘I would say he has a Rajnee heart,’ he said simply.
The two men sat together in silence for another hour, each lost in his own thoughts. Slowly the sky lightened, and birdsong filled the air. Waylander leant back in his seat, weariness heavy upon him. He closed his eyes and dozed. Immediately he fell into dreams, swirling colours that drew him down.
He awoke with a start as the red-robed priestess moved out on to the terrace. ‘Is he dead?’ he asked.
‘No, he will recover, I think.’
‘Then you found all the . . . eggs?’
‘I had help,’ she said, seating herself alongside him. ‘His soul was being guarded, and power flowed from within him.’
‘Qin Chong,’ said Kysumu softly.
Ustarte glanced across at him. ‘I do not know the name of the spirit. I could not commune with him.’
‘It was Qin Chong,’ said Kysumu. ‘In legend he is named as the first of the Rajnee. He appeared to Yu Yu in the ruins. But not to me,’ he added wistfully.
‘Nor me,’ she said. ‘What can you tell me of him?’
‘Very little. His deeds are lost among fables, oral tales expanded upon or invented. Depending which story you read, he fought dragons, evil gods, giant worms beneath the earth. He had a sword of fire called Pien’chi, and he was known as the Potter.’
‘Do the legends say how he died?’
‘Yes, in a dozen different ways, by fire, by sword, dragged down into the sea. One story has him walking down into the underworld to rescue his love, and never returning. Another even has him sprouting wings and soaring to the heavens. One has the gods appearing at his death and turning him into a mountain to watch over his people.’
Ustarte fell silent. ‘Perhaps Yu Yu can tell us more when he wakes.’
‘I would like to hear more of these Kraloth,’ said Waylander. ‘What are they?’
‘They are meld-hounds,’ Ustarte told him. ‘Artificial creations born of dark magic. They are very powerful, and ordinary weapons cannot harm them . . .’ she looked into his eyes and gave a wan smile ‘. . . unless they pierce the skull or the upper neck. As you know, their bite brings a painful death. They are led by a Bezha – a Houndmaster.’
‘I caught a glimpse of him,’ said Kysumu, ‘but only the eyes.’
‘He would have been wearing the robe of night,’ Ustarte told him. ‘It is true-black and reflects no light. The eye, therefore, cannot see it.’
‘Why are they here?’ asked Waylander.
‘They are the advance guard of two terrible enemies. My followers and I had hoped to prevent their coming. We failed.’