Waylander 3 – Hero in the Shadows By David Gemmell

‘But leave the hearts. I do not want the blood of cowards flowing in my veins.’

At that moment the ground began to vibrate. Three-swords almost lost his footing.

‘Earthquake!’ shouted Stone-four.

A dull sound like distant thunder boomed across the clearing. A dislodged boulder rolled past them.

‘It is coming from inside the hill,’ said Iron-arm.

Another boulder moved, falling upon the overhang and bouncing out to crash to the ground close by. ‘Back to the tree-line,’ ordered Three-swords. Iron-arm ran to one of the bodies and, hauling it behind him, followed his three comrades back to the safety of the trees.

Yu Yu felt stronger when he awoke, his bruised body refreshed. Kysumu was sitting cross-legged beside him, eyes closed and deep in a meditation trance. Yu Yu sat up and stared out over the white ranks of the ghostly army.

Leaving Kysumu, he strolled among the clay figures, looking at faces, seeking out Qin Chong. But he was nowhere to be found. At last Yu Yu came upon the broken figures. Kneeling, he pieced together what he could of the heads. As he half completed the second, sadness touched him. In his hands he held the features of the Riaj-nor who had befriended him in his dreams. ‘What do I do now?’ he whispered. ‘I am here.’ There was no answer. Yu Yu placed the broken pieces on the ground and sat back. Kysumu should have been the pria-shath. He was a trained Rajnee.

Yu Yu moved back to Kysumu and waited for the trance to end. Within minutes Kysumu opened his eyes. ‘Are you feeling stronger?’ asked the swordsman.

‘Yes,’ answered Yu Yu miserably.

‘Did Qin Chong come to you in your sleep?’

‘No.’

‘Do you have any idea of what to do now?’

‘No, I don’t!’ snapped Yu Yu. ‘I don’t know how statues can help us.’ Pushing himself to his feet he walked away from the swordsman, anxious to avoid further questioning. Yu Yu had never felt so useless. He wandered around the walls, coming at last to the ledge scattered with golden ornaments. In his mind’s eye he saw the warriors lining up here, placing their trinkets upon the rock. He picked up a small golden ring, then let it drop. In his vision he had seen warriors march into the depths of the hill. Now there were only statues. Where were the warriors? Had they been covered with clay? The broken head of Qin Chong’s statue had been hollow, and there were no bones or scraps of hair within it, so that seemed unlikely. What, then, was the purpose behind these statues? Yu Yu strained at the thought until his head hurt. ‘You must wake the Men of Clay,’ Qin Chong had told him.

‘Wake up!’ bellowed Yu Yu.

‘What are you shouting for?’ Kysumu called out.

Yu Yu did not reply. Unable to think of an answer he turned back to the ledge. His gaze fell upon a threaded rod of gold some four inches long. Beside it was a circular stand, with a hole at the centre. Yu Yu picked up the stand and inserted the rod into the hole, screwing it tight. The top of the rod was hooked, like a shepherd’s crook.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Kysumu, coming alongside.

‘Nothing,’ said Yu Yu. ‘Amusing myself. Something should hang from this hook.’

‘We have more important matters to decide,’ said Kysumu.

‘I know.’ Yu Yu continued to probe among the ornaments, finally finding a small golden bell with a ring at the crest. ‘This is it,’ he said, carefully hooking the bell to the rod. ‘Pretty.’

‘Yes, it is pretty,’ said Kysumu, with a sigh. Yu Yu flicked the bell. A small chime sounded. The bell continued to swing, and the next chime was louder than the first. The sound began to reverberate through the domed hall, growing louder and louder. The rock wall began to vibrate, ornaments tumbling from it. Kysumu tried to say something, but Yu Yu could not hear him. Yu Yu’s ears were hurting and he covered them with his hands.

Dust fell from the domed ceiling, and cracks appeared in the walls. The bell was now booming louder than thunder. Yu Yu felt sick. He staggered back from the ledge and fell to his knees. Kysumu had also covered his ears, and was squatting down, a look of intense pain upon his features.