'You are Qin Chong, the first of the Rajnee.'

'I am.'

'I have tried to reach you. You did not hear me.'

'I heard you. But I needed all my energy to commune with the pria-shath. He tells me you are skilled with that blade. May the Source make that a golden truth, for the enemy is upon us.'

Chapter Twelve

Even as he spoke, four black-garbed warriors stepped from the shadows, moving into the clearing, their dark, curved swords in their hands. Kysumu rose and drew his own blade.

Qin Chong, in the body of Yu Yu Liang, drifted towards the centre of the clearing, his movements unhurried, his sword arm by his side, the blade trailing on the hard-packed ground.

Kysumu relaxed his body into the Way of the Sword, the great emptiness in which there was no fear, no exultation, merely a sense of quiet harmony. The four warriors spread out. Kysumu noted the way they moved. All were perfectly in balance. Kysumu sensed great strength in them, and guessed they would be fast. He could feel their confidence.

They did not rush in, and Kysumu observed they were deferring to the largest warrior. His robe of black silk, slashed to the waist, bore a silver brooch, shaped like the claw of a lion. Perhaps it was a badge of rank among the Kriaz-nor, thought Kysumu. The leader moved to face Qin Chong, who still stood quietly, his blade trailing.

Then he darted forward, his speed awesome. Kysumu blinked – and almost lost the Way. No human could move that fast! The dark sword lanced at Qin Chong's face. His own blade parried it, and the two fighters spun away. The Kriaz-nor attacked again and again. The other three warriors stood by silently. The two swords clashed repeatedly, setting up a discordant yet almost rhythmic music in the clearing. Sparks flew from the blades. Never in his life had Kysumu seen such brilliant swordplay. It was as if the two warriors had choreographed each move, practising it for years. The blades moved faster than Kysumu's eyes could follow, glittering in the new moonlight. The fighters spun away once more. There was blood on the wolfskin jerkin worn by Qin Chong. Then the swords clashed again in a whirlwind of shrieking steel. Neither of the swordsmen had spoken, and the struggle continued with renewed ferocity. Kysumu saw blood spray from the Kriaz-nor's face as Qin Chong's blade nicked the skin of his cheekbone. The Kriaz-nor leapt back. 'I shall be proud to eat your heart,' he said. 'You are worthy.'

Qin Chong did not reply. The Kriaz-nor attacked again. Qin Chong leapt to his right, the sword of Yu Yu Liang flashing in a tight arc. The Kriaz-nor staggered for several steps, then turned. His belly opened, his entrails spilling out. With a strangled cry he tried to make one last charge, but Qin Chong stepped in to meet him, parrying his blade and sending a vicious cut into the Kriaz-nor's neck, half severing the head. The huge warrior toppled to the ground.

For a moment all was stillness. Kysumu transferred his gaze to the other three warriors. Without their leader they seemed unsure, confidence draining from them. Suddenly one of them screamed a battle cry and ran at Kysumu. The little Rajnee did not wait to meet the charge, but stepped in. The Kriaz-nor's blade swept down. Kysumu sidestepped, his own sword slashing up through the sword arm. The Kriaz-nor's sword flew through the air, the hand still grasping the hilt. The warrior drew a serrated dagger and leapt at the Rajnee, who plunged his blade deep into the Kriaz-nor's chest. A grunt of surprise and pain came from the warrior. Kysumu looked into the man's slitted golden eyes and watched the light of life fade from them. Dragging clear his sword, the Rajnee moved to stand alongside Qin Chong. The remaining two Kriaz-nor faded back into the forest.

'More will join them,' said Qin Chong. 'Let us ride.' Sheathing his blade, he ran to the horses. Kysumu followed him. Swiftly they saddled their mounts and rode from the clearing. Pushing the horses hard for several miles, they came at last to a small valley. Qin Chong cut away from the trail and dismounted. Kysumu joined him. Qin Chong led the two geldings back to the trail and slapped their rumps. Both beasts headed off towards the south. Ducking back into the trees, Qin Chong beckoned Kysumu to follow him, then ran down a wooded slope and into a fast-flowing stream. Wading along it for almost a quarter of a mile Qin Chong halted alongside an old oak. There was an overhanging branch almost ten feet above the stream. Removing his sword and scabbard Qin Chong hurled it to the bank beyond the tree, then turned to Kysumu. 'Cup your hands,' he ordered. Kysumu did so. Qin Chong placed his right foot in the cup, then launched himself upwards. His hands grabbed at the branch and he hauled himself over it. Curling his legs around the bough he hung upside down, extending his arms towards Kysumu. The Rajnee threw his own sword to the bank, then leapt, caught hold of Qin Chong's wrists, then drew himself up until he could reach the branch.

Once back on firm ground Qin Chong headed south-east, climbing ever higher until they reached a small cave created by a sheet of overhanging rock. Here he sat, breathing heavily. Kysumu squatted down alongside him. Blood was still seeping from a shallow wound high on Qin Chong's chest.

'The pria-shath was right,' said Qin Chong. 'You do know how to use your blade. It was fortunate, however, that your opponent was panicked and frightened.'

'I have never seen warriors who can move at such speed,' admitted Kysumu.

'The advantages of the meld,' Qin Chong told him.

'How was it that you could make Yu Yu's body match them?'

'In all animals muscles work in rhythmic harmony, sharing the load. A man lifts a cup to his lips. He does not use all his strength to do this. Only a few of the muscles in his arm will be needed. If he lifts a rock he will use more. Imagine a muscle as being, say, twenty men. If you have to raise the rock ten times then the first time two of the men will do it, the second time two more, and so on. But it is possible – though not wise – to engage all of the men at once. This is what I did, though Yu Yu will not thank me when he wakes.' He smiled. 'Ah, but I have enjoyed this last moment of the flesh, the scent of the forest, the feeling of cool air in my lungs.'

'You will feel it again, surely, when we find the Men of Clay? You will return to aid us.'

'I will not return, Kysumu. These are my last moments in the world.'

'There is so much I want to ask you.'

'There is only one question that burns in your heart, swordsman. Why were you not chosen to be the pria-shath?'

'Can you tell me?'

'Better for you to discover the truth yourself,' said Qin Chong. 'Farewell, Kysumu.' With that he closed his eyes, and was gone.

Niallad was dreaming about his father. They were hawking in the high country close to the castle. His father's bird, the legendary Eera, had brought down three hares. Niallad's bird, young and newly trained, had flown to a nearby tree and would not come down at his call.

'You must have patience,' said his father, as they sat together. 'Bird and man never form a friendship. It is a partnership. As long as you feed him he will stay with you. He will not, however, offer you loyalty or friendship.'

'I thought he liked me. He dances whenever I come close.'

'We shall see.'

They had waited for some hours, and then the hawk had flown away, never to return.

Niallad awoke. For a heartbeat he felt warm and secure in his father's love. Then, with terrible ferocity, reality smote him and he groaned aloud. He sat up, his heart breaking. Emrin was asleep on the ground close by. The Grey Man was seated upon a rock close to the horses. He did not look round. His figure was silhouetted by the bright moon and Niallad guessed he was staring back over the moonlit plain, seeking signs of pursuit. He had rejoined them some hours before, leading them to this high, lonely place, bordering the trees. The Grey Man had said little to him.