'What happened to them? Why did they not steal the crystal?'

'The power they unleashed killed them. The Elders knew how to control it, to focus the forces.

Without their skill it has become merely a corrupting, violent, haphazard sorcery.'

'I sense no power emanating from here,' said Dardalion.

'No. Zhu Chao sent men here. They removed the crystal from its setting. It sits now upon a golden floor some two hundred feet below us.'

'Did these men also die?'

'I think you could call it a kind of death.'

Dardalion felt cold as he looked into the shaman's malevolent eyes. 'What is it that you are not telling me, Kesa Khan? What secret strategies have yet to be unveiled?'

'Do not be impatient, priest. All will be revealed. Everything is in a delicate state of balance. We cannot win here by might or guile - we must rely on the intangibles. Your friend Waylander, for example. He now hunts Zhu Chao, but can he enter his palace, fight his way through a hundred guards and overcome the sorcery at Zhu Chao's command? Who knows? Can we hold here? And if not, can we find a way to escape? Or should we use the power of the crystal?'

'You know the answer to the last question, shaman - no. Else you would have come here years ago. No one knows what destroyed the Elders, save that there are areas of great desolation where once were mighty cities. Everything we know of them speaks of corruption and greed, enormous evils and terrible weapons. Even the wickedness within you recoils at their misdeeds. Is it not so?'

Kesa Khan nodded. 'I have walked the paths of time, priest. I know what destroyed them. And yes, I wish to see no return to their foul ways. They raped the land and lived like kings while fouling the rivers and lakes, the forests -aye, even the air they breathed. They knew everything and understood nothing. And they were destroyed for it.'

'But their legacy lives on here,' said Dardalion softly.

'And in other secret places, yet to be found.'

Dardalion knelt by the fire, adding several logs to the blaze. 'Whatever else, we must destroy the crystal. Zhu Chao must not possess it.'

Kesa Khan nodded. 'When the time comes we will seek it out.'

'Why not now?'

Trust me, Dardalion. I am far older than you, and I have walked paths that would burn your soul to ashes. Now is not the time.'

'What would you have me do?'

'Find a quiet place and send out your spirit to seek Waylander. Cloak him - as you did once before - protect him from the sorcery of Zhu Chao. Give him his chance to kill the beast.'

On the highest tower Vishna sat upon the ramparts, Ekodas beside him. The forked bearded Gothir n.o.bleman sighed. 'My brothers could be down there,' he said.

'Let us pray that is not the case,' said Ekodas.

'I think we were wrong,' said Vishna softly, 'and you were right. This is no way to serve the Source. I killed two men in that charge yesterday. I know they were evil, I felt it radiating from them, but I was lessened by the deed. I can no longer believe the Source wishes us to kill.'

Reaching out, Ekodas laid a hand upon his friend's shoulder. 'I do not know what the Source requires, Vishna. I only know that yesterday we protected a column of women and children. I do not regret that, but I regret bitterly that it was necessary to kill.'

'But why are we here?' cried Vishna. 'To ensure the birth of a child who will ultimately destroy all that my family have spent generations building? It is madness!'

Ekodas shrugged. 'Let us hope there is some greater purpose. But I believe it will be enough to thwart the Brotherhood.'

Vishna shook his head. "There are only eleven of us left. You think we can achieve some great victory?'

'Perhaps. Why don't you seek out Dardalion? Pray together. It will help.'

'No, it won't. Not this time, brother,' said Vishna sadly. 'I have followed him all my adult life, and I have known the great joy of comradeship - with him, with you all. I never doubted until now.

But this is a problem I must solve alone. '

'For what it is worth, my friend, I think it is better to be unsure. It seems to me that most of the problems of this world have been caused by men who were too sure; men who always knew what was right. The Brotherhood chose a path of pain and suffering. Not their own, of course. They rode into that valley to butcher women and babes. Remember that!'

Vishna nodded. 'You are probably right, Ekodas. But what when one of my brothers climbs this wall, sword in hand. What do I do? He is obeying the orders of his Emperor, as all good soldiers must. Do I kill him? Do I hurl him to his death?'

'I don't know,' admitted Ekodas. 'But there are enough real perils facing us, without creating more.'

'I wish to be alone, my friend. Do not be insulted, I beseech you.'

'I am not insulted, Vishna. May your deliberations bring you peace.' Turning, Ekodas ducked under the crumbling lintel and descended the undulating stairs. He came out into a narrow corridor leading to a long hall. Within it fat Merlon was helping the Nadir women to prepare food for the warriors. Ekodas saw Shia kneading dough close by. She looked up and smiled at him.

'How are you, lady?' he asked.

'I am well, prayer-man. Your arrival was a surprise most pleasant.'

'I did not think we would be in time. We first journeyed west into Vagria and then south in order to avoid the besiegers. The ride was long.'

'And now you are here. With me.'

'I was sorry to hear of your brother's death,' he said swiftly, as she rose from the table.

'Why? Did you know him?'

'No. But it must have caused you pain. For that I am sorry.'

Leaving the table she moved in close to him. 'There is a little pain, but it is my own. Yet I am also proud, for the man he slew was the same knight who killed our father. That is a blessing for which I thank the G.o.ds. But Belash is now in the Hall of Heroes. He has many beautiful maidens around him, and his cup is full of fine wine. Rich meats are cooking, and he has a hundred ponies to ride when he wishes. My pain is only that I will not see him again. But I am happy for him.'

Ekodas could think of no reply, so he bowed and backed away. 'You look like a man now,' said Shia approvingly. 'And you fight like a warrior. I watched you kill three and maim a fourth.'

He winced and walked swiftly from the hall. But she followed him out on to the lower rampart above the courtyard. The stars were bright and he drew in several deep, cool breaths.

'Did I insult you?' she asked.

'No. It is...just...that I do not like to kill. It does not please me to hear that I maimed a man.'

'Do not concern yourself. I cut his throat.'

'That is hardly an uplifting thought.'

"They are our enemies,' she said, speaking as if to a simpleton. 'What else would you do with them?'

'I have no answers, Shia. Only questions that no one can answer.'

'I could answer them,' she a.s.sured him brightly.

He sat back on the rampart wall and looked into her moonlit face. 'You are so confident. Why is that?'

'I know what I know, Ekodas. Ask me one of your questions.'

'I hate to kill, I know that. So why, during yesterday's battle, did I feel exultant with each sword- stroke?'

'I thought your questions would be hard,' she chided. 'Spirit and Flesh, Ekodas. The spirit is immortal. It loves the Light, it worships beauty, of thought and deed. And it has Eternity to enjoy, Time to contemplate. But the Flesh is Dark. For the Flesh knows it has not long to live. Against the time of the Spirit the life of the Flesh is like a lightning flash. So it has little time to know pleasure, to taste the richness of life; l.u.s.t, greed, gain. It wants to experience everything, and it cares for nothing save existence. What you felt was the surging joy of the Flesh. Nothing more. And certainly nothing to cause you self-loathing.' She chuckled, a rich, throaty sound that touched him like fire in the blood.

'What is so amusing?'

'You should feel sorry for the part of you that is Flesh, Ekodas. For what do you offer him in his brief existence? Rich food? No. Strong wines? Dances? l.u.s.t in the firelight?' She laughed again.

'No wonder he takes such pleasure from combat, eh?'

'You are a provocative woman,' he scolded.

'Thank you. Do I arouse you?'

'Yes.'

'But you fight it?'

'I must. It is the way I have chosen to live.'

'Do you believe the Spirit is eternal?'

'Of course.'

'Then do not be selfish, Ekodas. Does the Flesh not deserve a day in the sun? Look at my lips.

Are they not full and pleasing? And is my body not firm where it should be, and yet soft where it needs to be?'

His throat was dry, and he realised she had moved in very close. He stood and reached out, holding her at arms' length. 'Why do you torment me, lady? You know that I cannot give you what you desire.'

'Would you if you could?'

'Yes,' he admitted.

'We have our own priests,' she said. 'Kesa Khan is one. He also forbears from lovemaking, but it is a choice. He does not condemn it as wrong. Do you believe the G.o.ds created us?'

'The Source, yes.'

'And did they...He, if you like... not create men and women to desire one another?'

'I know where this is leading, but let me say this: there are many ways to serve the Source. Some men marry and beget children. Others choose different paths. What you said about the Flesh has great merit, but in subjugating the desires of the Flesh the Spirit becomes stronger. I can, in my Spirit form, fly through the air. I can read minds. I can heal the sick, removing cancerous growths.

You understand? I can do these things because the Source has blessed me. And because I abstain from earthly pleasures.'

'Have you ever had a woman?' she countered.

'No.'

'How does your Source feel about killing?'

He smiled ruefully. 'His priests are pledged to love all living things, and harm none.'

'So you have chosen to break one of His commandments?'

'I believe that we have.'

'Is lovemaking a greater sin than killing?'

'Of course not.'

'And you still have your Talents?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Think on that, Ekodas,' she said, with a sweet smile. Then, spinning on her heel she returned to the hall.

The deaths of Belash and Anshi Chen created a void in the battle leadership of the Nadir, and the mood in the fortress was sullen and fatalistic. Nadir wars were fought on horseback on the open steppes and despite the transient security offered by the warped citadel, they were ill at ease manning the crooked battlements of Kar-Barzac.

They viewed the silver knights with disquiet, and rarely spoke to Senta or Miriel. But Angel was different. His transparent hostility towards them made him a force they could understand and feel at ease with. No patronising comments, no condescension. Mutual dislike and respect became the twin ties that allowed the remaining warriors to form a bond with the former gladiator.

He organised them into defence groups along the main wall, ordering them to gather rocks and broken masonry for hurling down on an advancing enemy. He chose leaders, issued orders, and lifted their spirits with casual insults and coa.r.s.e humour. And his open contempt for the Gothir soldiers helped the tribesmen to overcome their own fears.

As the sun rose on the third day of the siege he gathered a small group of leaders around him and squatted down among them on the battlements. 'Now none of you beggars have ever seen a siege, so let me make it plain for you. They will carry forward stripped tree trunks as scaling ladders and lean them against the walls. Then they will climb the broken branches. Do not make the mistake of trying to push the ladders away from the wall. The weight of wood and armed men will make that impossible. Slide them left or right. Use the b.u.t.t-end of your spears, or loop ropes over the top of the trunks. Unbalance them. Now we have around three hundred men to defend these walls, but we need a reserve force, ready to run and block any gaps that appear in the line. You, Subai!' he said, pointing to a short, wide-shouldered tribesman with a jagged scar on his right cheek. 'Pick forty men and hold back from the battle. Wait in the courtyard, watching the battlements. If our line breaks anywhere, reinforce it.'

'It will be as you order,' grunted the tribesman.

'Make sure it is, or I'll rip out your arm and beat you to death with the wet end.' The warriors smiled. Angel rose. 'Now, follow me to the gate.' The gates themselves had long since rotted, but the Nadir had managed to lower the portcullis, almost two tons of rusted iron, to block the entrance.

Carts and wagons had been overturned at the base and thirty bowmen stood by. Angel moved to the archway. 'They will attempt to lift the portcullis. They will fail, for it is wedged above. But it is badly rusted and they will bring up saws and hammers to force an opening. You, what's your name again?'

'How many times must you ask, Ugly One?' countered the Nadir, a hook-nosed, swarthy man, taller than the average tribesman. Angel guessed he was a half-breed.

'All you beggars look alike to me,' said Angel. 'So tell me again.'

'Orsa Khan.'

'Well, Orsa Khan, I want you to command this defence. When they break through - as they will eventually - set fire to the carts. And hold them back to allow the men on the walls to retreat to the keep.'

'They will not break through while I live,' promised Orsa.