The Legend of the Deathwalker

'Be so kind as to show me the token,' said Chorin-Tsu, speaking in the southern tongue, his voice barely above a whisper. Talisman reached into his tunic and produced a small coin stamped with the head of a wolf. He offered it to the old man, who took it with trembling fingers, leaning forward to examine it. Talisman found himself staring at the small white braid of hair on the crown of Chorin-Tsu's otherwise shaven head. 'It is an interesting coin, young man. Sadly, however, anyone can possess such a piece,' said the embalmer, his breath wheezing from him. 'It could have been taken from the true messenger.'

Talisman gave a cold smile. 'Nosta Khan told me you were a mystic, Chorin-Tsu. You should, therefore, have little difficulty judging my integrity.'

There were two shallow clay cups of water set upon a silk rug. The young Nadir reached for one, but the old man waved a hand and shook his head. 'Not yet, Talisman. Forgive me, but I shall tell you when to drink, As to your point, Nosta Khan was not speaking of psychic powers. I was never a true mystic. What I have been, all my life, Talisman, is a student. I have studied my craft, I have examined the great sites of history, but most of all I have studied men. The more I studied the race, the better I understand its foibles. But the curious thing about study, when conducted with an open mind, is that it makes one smaller. But, forgive me, philosophy is not a Nadir preoccupation.'

'Being savages, you mean?' answered the Nadir, without rancour. 'Perhaps I should therefore leave the answer to the priest-philosopher Dardalion, who said, "Every question answered leads to seven other questions. Therefore to a student the gathering of knowledge merely increases the awareness of how much more there is still to know." Will that suffice, Master Embalmer?'

Chorin-Tsu masked his surprise, and bowed deeply. 'Indeed it will, young man. And I pray you will forgive this old one for such rudeness. These are heady days and I fear my excitement is affecting my manners.'

'I take no offence,' said Talisman. 'Life is harsh upon the steppes. There is little opportunity for a contemplative existence.'

The old man bowed again. 'I do not wish to compound my rudeness, young sir, but I find myself intrigued as to where a Nadir warrior would come upon the words of Dardalion of the Thirty.'

'It is said that a little mystery adds spice to a relationship,' Talisman told him. 'However, you were talking about your studies.'

Chorin-Tsu found himself warming further to the young man. 'My studies also involve astrology, numerology, the casting of runes, the reading of palms, the fashioning of spells. And yet there remain so many things to baffle the mind. I shall give you an example.' From his belt he pulled an ivory-handled throwing-knife, which he pointed towards a round target set on the wall some twenty paces away. 'When I was younger I could hurl this blade into the golden centre of that target. But now — as you see — my fingers are gnarled and bent. Do it for me, Talisman.' The young Nadir caught the tossed blade. For a moment he weighed it in his hand, feeling the balance. Then he drew back his arm and let fly. The silver steel shimmered in the lantern light, and flashed across the room to lance home into the target. It missed the gold by a finger's breadth. 'The target is covered with small symbols. Go and tell me the symbol that the blade pierced,' ordered Chorin-Tsu.

Talisman rose and walked across the room. The target had been decorated with curious Chiatze hieroglyphs, traced in gold paint. He did not recognize most of them. But the knife-blade had pierced an oval, at the centre of which was a delicately drawn talon, and this image he understood. 'Where did it strike?' called Chorin-Tsu. Talisman told him.

'Good, good. Come and rejoin me, my boy.'

'I have passed your test?'

'One of them. Here is the second. Drink from one of the cups.'

'Which one contains the poison?' asked Talisman.

Chorin-Tsu said nothing and Talisman stared at the cups. 'Suddenly I am not thirsty.'

'Yet you must drink,' Chorin-Tsu insisted.

'Tell me the purpose of the game, old one. Then I shall decide.'

'I know you can throw a knife, Talisman, this I have seen. But can you think'} Are you worthy to serve the Uniter — to bring him to our people? As you rightly surmise, one of the cups contains a deadly poison. Death will follow if it even touches your lips. The other contains nothing but water. How will you choose?'

'There is insufficient information,' said Talisman.

'You are wrong.'

Talisman sat quietly, his mind working at the problem. He closed his eyes, recalling every word spoken by the old man. Leaning forward he lifted the left-hand cup, twirling it in his fingers; then the right. Both were identical. Transferring his gaze to the rug he gave a rare smile. It was embroidered with the same set of symbols as the target. And below the left-hand cup was the oval and the talon. Lifting the cup, he tasted the water. It was sweet and cool.

'Good, you are observant,' said Chorin-Tsu. 'But is it not amazing that you should have thrown the knife to the exact symbol, when there were twelve others to strike?'

'How did you know I would strike it?"

'It was written thus in the stars. Nosta Khan knew it also. He knew it through his Talent, whereas I knew it through study. Now, answer me this: What is the third test?'

Talisman took a deep breath. 'The talon was the mark of Oshikai Demon-bane, the oval the symbol of his wife, Shul-sen. When Oshikai wished to wed Shul-sen her father set him three tasks, the first was one of marksmanship, the second concerned intelligence, the third. . required a sacrifice. Oshikai had to slay a demon, who had been his friend. I know no demons, Chorin-Tsu.'

'As with all myths, my boy, they serve a purpose beyond the richness of the tales. Oshikai was a reckless man, given to great rages. The demon was merely a part of himself, the wild and dangerous side of his personality. Shul-sen's father knew this, and wanted Oshikai to pledge himself to love her till the end of his days — never to harm her, never to put her aside for another.'

'What has this to do with me?'

'Everything.' Chorin-Tsu clapped his hands together. The door opened and a young Chiatze woman entered. She bowed to both men, then knelt and touched her head to the floor at Chorin-Tsu's feet. Talisman gazed at her in the candlelight. She was exquisitely beautiful, with raven-dark hair and wide, almond-shaped eyes. Her mouth was full, her figure trim within a white silk blouse and long satin skirt.