‘Yes, it is, Waylander. It always was,’ she said, moving away towards the door.
‘What does that mean?’ he asked her.
‘This is a time for heroes,’ she said softly. ‘Even shadow warriors once touched by evil.’
He watched her cross the threshold and draw the door closed behind her. With a soft curse he pushed himself to his feet and walked through to his armoury. From a chest at the rear of the room he removed a heavy linen sack. Placing it on a worktop he opened it, drawing forth a black leather shoulder-guard, reinforced by black mail rings. Returning to the chest he lifted two other wrapped items, followed by a sword-belt hung with two empty scabbards. Carefully he unwrapped the shortswords. Each had a round fist-guard of black iron beneath claw-shaped dark quillons. The bright blades gleamed with oil. Taking up a soft cloth he wiped them clean, careful to avoid the razor-sharp edges. Buckling the sword-belt to his lean waist he slipped the swords into the scabbards.
His baldric, hung with throwing knives, was looped over the back of a chair. Fetching it, he removed each of the six diamond-shaped blades and honed them before slipping them back into place. Donning the chainmail shoulder-guard, he slipped the baldric over his head. Lastly he took up his small, double-winged crossbow and a quiver of twenty bolts.
He strode from his rooms, climbing the steps to the upper buildings and the stable.
Will you ever learn? he asked himself.
Yu Yu Liang awoke to see sunshine streaming through a high-arched window. It was bright upon the white coverlet of his bed. He sighed, and felt a pang of deep regret. His shoulder was painful, though he could not remember why, but the sharpness of it meant he was back in the world of the flesh. Sadness filled his mind, as the feel of the sun and the whisper of a sea breeze leeched away the exquisite harmony he had come to value so highly. A figure loomed over him, the face thin and ascetic, the nose long and curved. ‘How are you feeling?’ asked the man. The noise was yet another intrusion, and Yu Yu felt the joy of the past years with Qin Chong slipping away. The question was asked again.
‘I am flesh again,’ responded Yu Yu. ‘It saddens me.’
‘Flesh? I was talking about your wound, young man.’
‘My wound?’
‘In your shoulder. You were bitten. The Gentleman and your Chiatze companion brought you. You have been injured, young man. You have been unconscious for around fourteen hours.’
‘Hours?’ Yu Yu closed his eyes. It was incomprehensible. On his journeys he had seen the birth of worlds, and the fall of stars; great empires rising from the mists of savagery before being swallowed by the oceans. He became aware of a dull, throbbing pain in his left shoulder. ‘Why am I back?’ he asked.
The man looked concerned. ‘You were bitten last night by a demon beast,’ he said slowly. ‘But the wound is clean now. You are recovering well. I am Mendyr Syn, the surgeon. And you are resting in the palace of Dakeyras, the Gentleman.’
Bitten last night.
Yu Yu groaned as he struggled to sit. Instantly Mendyr Syn’s hands came down on his good shoulder. ‘Lie still. You will break the stitches.’
‘No. I must sit up,’ muttered Yu Yu.
Mendyr Syn transferred his grip to Yu Yu’s right biceps, assisting him. ‘This is not wise, young man. You are very weak.’ The surgeon adjusted the pillows behind the wounded man and Yu Yu sagged back to them.
‘Where is Kysumu?’
‘He has gone with the Duke and his men. He will be back shortly, I don’t doubt. How does the wound feel?’
‘Painful.’
Mendyr Syn filled a goblet with cool water and held it to Yu Yu’s lips. It tasted divine as it slipped down his parched throat. Resting his head back against the pillow he closed his eyes once more and drifted into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke the sunshine no longer lit the bed, but was shining brightly against the far wall.
The room was empty and Yu Yu was thirsty again. Pushing back the covers, he tried to swing his legs from the bed.