The two ships crashed together. The corsairs rose and clambered to the rails.
In that moment the black-bearded warrior on the enemy ship stepped up to the prow and leaped into the massed ranks of waiting corsairs. Earin Shad could hardly believe what he was seeing. The black-garbed axeman sent several men spinning to the deck, almost fell himself, then swung his axe. A man screamed as blood sprayed from a terrible wound in his chest. The axe rose and fell - and the corsairs scattered back from the apparently deranged warrior.
He charged them, the axe cleaving into their ranks. Further along the deck other corsairs were still trying to board the merchant ship and meeting ferocious resistance from the Drenai warriors, but at the centre of the main deck all was chaos. A man ran in behind the axeman, a curved knife raised to stab him in the back. But an arrow slashed into the assailant’s throat and he stumbled and fell.
Several Drenai warriors leapt to join the axeman. Earin Shad swore and drew his sabre, vaulting the rail and landing smoothly on the deck below. When a swordsman ran at him he parried the lunge and sent a riposte that missed the neck but opened the man’s face from cheekbone to chin. As the warrior fell back Earin Shad plunged his blade into the man’s mouth and up into the brain.
A lithe warrior in black breastplate and helm despatched a corsair and moved in on Earin Shad. The Corsair captain blocked a fierce thrust and attempted a riposte, only to leap back as his opponent’s blade slashed by his face. The man was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, and a master swordsman.
Earin Shad stepped back and drew a dagger. “Ventrian?” he enquired.
The man smiled. “Indeed I am.” A corsair leapt from behind the swordsman. He spun and disembowelled the man, then swung back in time to block a thrust from Earin Shad. “I am Bodasen.”
The corsairs were tough, hardy men, long used to battles and the risk of death. But they had never had to face a phenomenon like the man with the axe. Watching from the tiller deck of The Thunderchild, Sieben saw them fall back, again and again, from Druss’s frenzied, tireless assaults. Though the day was warm Sieben felt a chill in his blood as he watched the axe cleaving into the hapless pirates. Druss was unstoppable - and Sieben knew why. When swordsmen fought the outcome rested on skill, but armed with the terrible double-headed axe there was no skill needed, just power and an eagerness for combat - a battle lust that seemed unquenchable.
No one could stand against him, for the only way to win was to run within the reach of those deadly blades. Death was not a risk; it was a certainty. And Druss himself seemed to possess a sixth sense. Corsairs circled behind him, but even as they rushed in he swung to face them, the axe-blades slashing through skin, flesh and bone. Several of the corsairs threw down their weapons, backing away from the huge, blood-smeared warrior. These Druss ignored.
Sieben flicked his gaze to where Bodasen fought with the enemy captain. Their swords, shimmering in the sunlight, seemed fragile and insubstantial against the raw power of Druss and his axe.
A giant figure bearing an iron war hammer leapt at Druss - just as Snaga became embedded in the ribs of a charging corsair. Druss ducked under the swinging weapon and sent a left hook that exploded against the man’s jaw. Even as the giant fell, Druss snatched up his axe and near beheaded a daring attacker. Other Drenai warriors ran to join him and the corsairs backed away, dismayed and demoralised.
“Throw your weapons down!” bellowed Druss, “and live!”
There was little hesitation and swords, sabres, cutlasses and knives clattered to the deck. Druss turned to see Bodasen block a thrust and send a lightning counter that ripped across the enemy captain’s throat. Blood sprayed from the wound. The captain half fell, and tried for one last stab. But his strength fled from him and he pitched face first to the deck.
A man in flowing green robes appeared at the tiller deck rail. Slender and tall, his hair waxed to his skull, he lifted his hands. Sieben blinked. He seemed to be holding two spheres of glowing brass - no, the poet realised, not brass - but fire!
“Look out, Druss!” he shouted.
The sorcerer threw out his hands and a sheet of flame seared towards the axeman. Snaga flashed up; the flames struck the silver heads.
Time stopped for the poet. In a fraction of a heartbeat he saw a scene he would never forget. At the moment when the flames struck the axe, a demonic figure appeared above Druss, its skin iron-grey and scaled, its long, powerful arms ending in taloned fingers. The flames rebounded from the creature arid slashed back into the sorcerer. His robes blazed and his chest imploded - a gaping hole appearing in his torso, through which Sieben could see the sky. The sorcerer toppled from the deck and the demon disappeared.
“Sweet mother of Cires!” whispered Sieben. He turned to Milus Bar. “Did you see it?”
“Aye! The axe saved him right enough.”
“Axe? Did you not see the creature?”
“What are you talking about, man?”
Sieben felt his heart hammering. He saw Eskodas climbing down from the rigging and ran to him. “What did you see when the flames came at Druss?” he asked, grabbing the bowman’s arm.
“I saw him deflect them with his axe. What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“We’d better cut free these ropes,” said Eskodas. “The other ships are closing in.”
The Drenai warriors on the Darkwind also saw the two battle vessels approaching. With the defeated corsair standing by, they hacked at the ropes and then leapt back to The Thunderchild. Druss and Bodasen came last. None tried to stop them.
The giant Druss had felled rose unsteadily, then ran to the rail and leapt after the axeman, landing amidst a group of Drenai warriors and scattering them.
“It’s not over!” he yelled. “Face me!”
The Thunderchild eased away from the corsair ship, the wind gathering once more in her sails as Druss dropped Snaga to the deck and advanced on the giant. The corsair - almost a foot taller than the blood-drenched Drenai - landed the first blow, a juddering right that split the skin above Druss’s left eye. Druss pushed through the
