‘But how? It’s not as if anybody’s ever told me about the craft or spells and things.’
‘You’ll know when the time comes: your magic will guide you as it has always done.’
‘As it has always done?’ Even amid all the gore Iwa couldn’t help but smile, as if her magic had ever been that kind. She’d never had anything much to do with it, or any sense how to control it, or how Miskyia was supposed to help. What am I doing here? Behind her smile the panic raged. Her only thought had been to save Yaroslav as quickly as possible and now she was in too deep.
‘Go now.’ Miskyia motioned for the Karzełek around her to advance. Iwa was about to follow, but the witch held her back. ‘Let the Lord Bethrayal wreak his vengeance on the woyaks, but beware of the priest.’ With that, she turned to the Karzełek who had stood guard over her, but they were hesitant, unsure of risking Iwa’s life. Miskyia motioned again, more urgently this time as slowly the Karzełek began to move forward. ‘Remember,’ she shouted over the din, ‘you are the anchor that keeps him to this world. You cannot let him get away too far or else the link will weaken!’
And then I’ll not be able to bind him when the time comes. Iwa fought against a rising tide of doubt and uncertainty. She was lost, the din of battle closing in all around her as she knelt on the ground and trembled. Two of the Karzełek remained, their shields drawn round her, blocking out the light.
In the camp all was confusion as the woyaks turned and ran, or else dropped to their knees in mumbled prayer. In the centre of the camp, Krol Gawel stood surrounded by a group of his most loyal woyaks, his goat-heads banner fluttering above them. Even now there was a sense of calm about him, his sword drawn, tip resting on the ground, as he waited for the fate that would bind him to his doom.
Instinctively Lord Bethrayal turned, anger burning through his body as he made for the group. Down below, Iwa had no choice other than to follow. Somehow she knew that she would have to bind him soon. If only I knew how.
She could see through the eyes of Lord Bethrayal as, on the ground before him, a woyak turned to run, his shield clattering across the ground in his eagerness to escape. As he fled, he turned to cast a spear over his shoulder, the shaft burning to ash as it flew. Even the iron blade melted through the air, the sight so unexpected that the woyak paused. That was his mistake. In one swift motion the figure of Lord Bethrayal bent down and swamped him, the woyak’s screams turning to a whimper as his life flowed warmly away. The husk of his body was thrown down amongst the fleeing woyaks.
Iwa glanced round. It was almost impossible to see anything in the dark and the confusion, but at least the prison ships appeared unharmed. Let’s hope that Katchka and the others have the good sense to keep their heads down. But what about Yaroslav’s hut? It was too dark to see anything. Near her a pile of sacks blazed, sending up a thick pall of smoke which only added to the confusion. She clung to the Karzełek guards, the temptation to run and find Yaroslav growing with each breath. What if he were wounded, or worse?
Now the wolf-head horns fell silent and toppled as their musicians turned and fled. Even the Karzełek backed away. Only Krol Gawel stood his ground. ‘So you have come to face me at last!’ He raised his great sword. ‘Then let us fight, champion to champion, and I shall send you back to whatever dung pit spawned you, and you can sing there of the courage of Krol Gawel!’
The clubfooted boy stood by his master’s side, but Krol Gawel pushed him away and turned to face the form of Lord Bethrayal alone, his great sword slicing through the air.
There was a splinter of light and the air turned molten around her as Iwa raised her hands to her face and screamed. Then the world turned to pitch and folded in on her. When she next dared to look, Krol Gawel was alone. What’s happened to Bethrayal?
From above them there was a terrible roar. Iwa looked up as the form of Lord Bethrayal lurched over her. Suddenly the entire camp exploded into motion, everyone running to escape the figure as it howled through the chaos. Then the Karzełek attacked.
Now she was in the thick of battle; spears clattered against the Karzełeks’ shields. What had happened? Somehow the link with Lord Bethrayal had been broken, she could feel it fade, the roar of the firmament howling around her. Now he was helpless, his body flailing blindly as he circled out in his terror and his pain.
An arrow flew through the air and caught one of the Karzełek in the leg so that he almost collapsed on top of her. Without a pause, her remaining guard picked her up and backed away. They were pressed up against the side of one of the ships. Iwa ducked behind the Karzełek shield. Then she caught sight of Wislaw.
He was standing by Krol Gawel’s ship, a wreath of woven straw in his hands as he muttered a prayer to whichever gods he worshipped. Still he was trying to hold his barrier, the spells dancing frantically around him as he clutched the totem to him, the prayers dry on his lips. Of course he could see the form of Lord Bethrayal before him, the barrier broken and torn and, even if he’d managed to resurrect the barrier, it would only have served to trap the Lord Bethrayal inside. But the terror had taken hold of Wislaw, and he didn’t know what else to
