“Move!” Bradan ordered as the three Moss-men stood before him. “We are coming through.”
The Moss-men slid back along the causeway, with the space between them and Bradan remaining the same, however fast he splashed. He sensed movement to his right and saw more of the Moss-men parallel to them on the surface of the Moss.
“Stay with me, Melcorka,” Bradan glanced over his shoulder. “The lads following us don't seem to be any threat.”
“I'm staying close.” Melcorka clutched Bradan's sleeve.
A fourth figure joined the three Moss-men in front. Slightly smaller, the newcomer did not wear a hood, and her long blonde hair descended to her shoulders as she stood in silence, yet Bradan knew that she wielded power. When she lifted a hand, all the men assembled, those with long poles to vault from dry land to dry land, those with the large shoes that helped them to ease across the Moss, and the naked men who swam through the mud like human eels.
“Melcorka; stay close,” Bradan said. “Something is happening here.”
The blonde woman pointed to Bradan, wordless, and all the men moved, with the vaulters leaping on one side, the men with shoes on the other and the swimmers submerging into the ooze.
“They're coming for us,” Bradan said. “Do you want Defender? She works for you.”
Melcorka shook her head, stumbled and inadvertently touched the blade of Defender. For one instant, she realised what was happening.
“Bradan.” She spoke more crisply than she had for months. “That woman is in charge here. She is directing the Moss-men.”
“I gathered that,” Bradan took a swipe at one of the vaulters, missing entirely and nearly overbalancing with the force he used.
“If we get rid of her, the rest will pull back.” Melcorka hesitated as her mind began to cloud again. “Go for her, Bradan.”
“Stay close.” Bradan moved forward, hoping the causeway was relatively straightforward under his feet, raising splashes of muddy water as he neared the woman. Two of the swimmers emerged at his side, one clutching at his legs, attempting to pull him off the causeway, the other reaching for Defender. Swinging the sword, Bradan felt contact as the second man fell back, spouting blood. He kicked away the other, cursing.
“Keep going, Bradan,” Melcorka urged. “Only the woman matters.”
The woman had not moved, depending on the Moss-men to do her bidding. Two of the skimmers slid towards Bradan, reaching for Defender. Bradan jabbed at one, missed and swore as the second took hold of his arm. Another swimmer grasped Bradan's legs, and two of the vaulters landed lightly on the causeway at his back, grappling with him as they tried to wrestle Defender from his hands.
Throwing one down, Bradan tried to swing Defender, but with two Moss-men dragging down his arm, he found himself gradually overpowered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Melcorka leave him.
Melcorka dashed forward, her feet slipping on the treacherous causeway. As she approached the woman, she pointed Bradan's staff like a lance and lunged forward.
“Mel!” Bradan shouted as another swimmer took hold of his left leg and pulled. He fought desperately to remain on the causeway as one foot slipped off and he slid sideways.
“Cenel Bearnas!” Melcorka yelled the old slogan of her family as she lunged forward with Bradan's staff. The top, with its carved Celtic cross, came close to the blonde woman, who instantly withdrew. Melcorka jabbed again, and a third time, shouting to disguise her fear. “Cenel Bearnas!”
The woman vanished. Within a second, the Moss-men retreated into their fastnesses, leaping, swimming or gliding away, leaving two of their number on the causeway.
“How did you do that?” Bradan asked.
“I threatened her with your staff.” Melcorka spoke through her confusion. “I don't know why she went away.”
“I do,” Bradan said. “The priest at Carham blessed the staff. Evil cannot stand against the blessing.”
“I can't remember the priests blessing anything.” Melcorka shook her head.
“Yes, you can,” Bradan said. “You just don't know that you remember. Come on, Melcorka, let's get away from the Moss before these people return.” Bradan moved ahead, with Melcorka behind him, her feet splashing through the mud.
“I think they've gone,” Bradan said, peering into the distance.
“No.” Melcorka tried to control the hammer of her heart. “They are still there. We can't see them, but they are all around us.”
Gripping Defender tightly, Bradan followed the causeway, moving as fast as he could while careful not to step into the waiting mud on either side.
Melcorka was right. He could sense the Moss-men's presence amid the mist. He was unsure what they were or why they were there, but he felt more uneasy than he had at any time in his life. Bradan shook his head, trying to force some rational thought into his mind. That woman had directed them, trying to grab Defender. Now he thought about her, he could not describe her, as he could not describe the grey man who accompanied the Butcher. Why was that?
Bradan could not think of a solution. He only knew that the blessing on his staff had repelled the woman, which indicated she was evil. Bradan thought of some of the dangers he and Melcorka had faced, from Norse armies to the multi-armed monsters of the Indian Ocean, to the magnificent waterfall of the New World to war-elephants and killer mermaids. Yet, he had never before felt such internal desolation, as if these grey, featureless people were draining him of all confidence.
“Come on, Mel!” Bradan ran his thumb over the carved cross on the top of his staff. The surge of hope that simple action gave him ran through his body.
“Come on, Melcorka.” Keeping his thumb pressed on the carved cross, Bradan nearly dragged Melcorka over the last of the causeway and on to the dry land beyond. When he looked behind him, only the Moss remained, and the threat of menace that he could not shake off.
That
