The Messiah Secret

One of the donkeys fell, three arrows striking it almost simultaneously and killing it instantly, and Je-tsun’s camel roared in pain as a spear grazed its side. Two of the travellers collapsed to the ground, one with an arrow through his neck, the point glistening red in the weak sunlight, the other pierced by two spears.

Then another shout rang out, and for an instant the volley of arrows diminished as the bandits stared at the scene in front of them.

Both of the men mounted on the camels were still in their saddles, but each of them had sprouted a handful of arrows, their points embedded in their chests and stomachs. Yet neither man appeared in any way affected by this – they were still aiming their bows and firing arrows without any obvious discomfort.

The sight was unsurprising to the travellers, but was clearly unnerving the bandits, who obviously believed both men should be dead or at least mortally wounded. The men pointed, shouting at each other in disbelief, then stopped the attack and simply took to their heels, vanishing into the jumble of rocks that covered the slope behind them.

For a few seconds, nobody on the track moved. They just stared at the hillside, making sure that their attackers really had gone, and weren’t regrouping to launch another assault.

Behind the cart, Sonam and his companion stood up cautiously and looked round, then turned to give what assistance they could to the injured driver.

Je-tsun issued crisp orders. Two of his men drew their swords and ran across to the side of the track where the attack had been launched, and where a dull moaning sound could be heard, coming from one of the wounded bandits. Moments later, the moaning rose to a scream, then there was the sound of a blow and the noise stopped completely. Seconds afterwards, Je-tsun’s men reappeared, one of them cleaning the blade of his weapon.

At the same time, two other men stepped forward to check on their fallen companions, but it was immediately apparent that they were both dead. Swiftly, the bodies were stripped of their weapons and belts, and then they were carried over to the opposite side of the track. There was no time to bury them, but Je-tsun ordered the two corpses to be laid out and covered with rocks, to try to keep away the vultures and other scavengers.

Only then, when he was sure the attack was over, did Je-tsun nudge his camel to make it kneel on the stony track, and dismount. Behind him, Ketu did the same.

‘It worked, my friend,’ Ketu said, stepping towards the other man with clumsy movements.

‘It worked,’ Je-tsun agreed, and awkwardly pulled his cloak over his head, the front of it stuck fast to his chest by the handful of arrows. Underneath it, secured by wide leather straps over his shoulders, he wore two thick planks of wood, covering his chest and back, a rudimentary form of body armour.

Je-tsun placed the wood on the ground and plucked out the arrows, one by one, then donned the planks again and replaced his cloak.

He turned to look at the wound his camel had sustained, but it was little more than a graze. The spear had obviously struck the animal a glancing blow that had left a shallow cut on the skin. One donkey was dead, pierced by three arrows, and two others had minor wounds.

Je-tsun walked across to the yak-drawn cart and looked at the three men there, one injured, the other two ministering to him.

Sonam stood up as he approached, and Je-tsun bowed down in front of him. ‘You are unhurt, my lord?’ he asked, standing erect again.

Sonam nodded. ‘Yes, but Akar is bleeding badly from his thigh. The arrow has cut through several blood vessels, I think.’

Je-tsun nodded, clasped the younger man by the shoulders and then bent down to look at the injured man.

Akar looked up as Je-tsun knelt beside him. He was quivering with shock, and blood was pumping out of both sides of his thigh – the arrow had penetrated right through his leg, and was still lodged in the wound.

Je-tsun looked at the pain-racked face of the man he’d known for decades and shook his head. He knew that the injury was life-threatening simply because of the blood loss, but there was more to it than that. The bandits were known to smear the tips of their arrows with poison or excrement and, even if the wound wasn’t fatal in itself, there was a good chance that infection would follow in the days to come, killing the victim more slowly but just as surely.

Akar stared at Je-tsun, knowledge of the reality of his situation written on his face. He nodded slowly, lifted his right hand and seized the other man’s arm. ‘Make it quick, my friend,’ he said. Then he leaned back on the rocky ground and closed his eyes.

Je-tsun nodded in his turn, drew a short dagger from the scabbard at his belt and swiftly drove it into Akar’s chest, straight through his heart. The man on the ground shuddered once, then lay still, his features growing slack as the pain ebbed away for the last time.