Two woyaks stood flanking him, bathed in blood, their spear tips gleaming as they looked in horror at the form that reared before them. There was nothing else to do – their eyes stared wildly as they tried to comprehend the figure, their spears drooping uselessly in their hands.
Then Bethrayal was gone! Iwa felt a blow, her whole body aching as if someone had stabbed her in the chest. He’s managed to break the link. Somewhere far behind, the form of Lord Bethrayal howled. She could almost feel those ancient spells left to keep him prisoner as they wove about the old priest and, without him even knowing, twisted his magic to their own ends.
‘We’ve got to stop him!’ She pointed, but the Karzełek took no notice as his shield moved to protect her. ‘You don’t understand. It’s the priest, Wislaw, he’s behind all this.’ But the power of the spells only grew; she could almost hear them chuckle as they wove about the form of Lord Bethrayal, ready to drag him to that vast blackness. ‘He’s the bridge,’ she yelled, ‘they’re using him to come into this world!’
But the Karzełek still stood dumbly by her side. Then, one of the woyaks who stood by the old priest looked up, his eyes filled with bloodlust and fury. In the din and confusion it took her a moment to realise that it was Eber. Across the battlefield their eyes locked, a grim look of hate playing across his face. ‘We have to get away,’ Iwa yelled, but it was too late, the woyak had already charged. He’d obviously been in the thick of the fight already, his armour matted with blood and gore.
One of the Karzełek broke away to meet his charge, his battle club whirling through the air, but Eber ducked and the blow fell short. The woyak turned swiftly, the spear thrust for the Karzełek’s unguarded flank, but, at the last moment, the shield swung round to catch the blade. Eber spun, the blow ringing through his arms as he fought for balance. Turning, the Karzełek unleashed the full fury of the club in a blow that almost caught the side of Eder’s helm. Some instinct must have guided the woyak because, almost without realising, he stepped back, nearly toppling as the club tore past his face, the snakes ready to strike. If the Karzełek had been faster then it could have caught the man whilst he still struggled, but the creature’s bulk told against it and those few precious seconds were enough for the man to regain his balance. The snakes hissed out their anger as the Karzełek closed in on Eber. Once or twice the spear lashed out, ready to catch the Karzełek in the face – each time the shield managed to fend off the blow, but not enough so that it could twist the spear clean away and leave the man exposed for a counter strike.
The snakes drew back, ready to spit out their venom, but Eber was careful to keep out of their reach as he weighed up his opponent, a smile playing on his lips. Then, suddenly, he stepped aside. The Karzełek was quick to counter the move, his body turning to bring the whole weight of his shield round, ready for the blow. For a second the shield crossed the Karzełek’s face and then Eber struck. In one swift movement he danced back, the spear reaching behind the shield as the Karzełek recognised the danger too late. In a fountain of blood the iron tip drove under the ribs.
Around the thing’s neck, the snakes hissed, the closest striking out in its death throes, but the fangs found only the helm. Yet Eber, with his single arm, wasn’t strong enough to land the killing blow, so he had to crash against the Karzełek and bring his full body weight behind the tip.
His hand slipped along the shaft but it was enough for the blade to cut deep to the heart. If they hadn’t been caught in their death throes, the snakes would maybe have struck, but they were spent, their bodies writhing and the venom spitting from their fangs.
Then Eber turned, his face still filled with bloodlust and fury. Putting his foot on the dead Karzełek he withdrew the spear and gazed at Iwa, who shrank back from that terrible look. Desperately she looked round for an avenue of escape, but there was nothing but smoke and confusion.
Eber ran forward, a grim look on his face. Whether he guessed the truth or he was too carried away with bloodlust to care for anything but death and slaughter, she would never know. She fell back on the ground, helpless before him as slowly he raised his spear.
‘Eber…’ she began to plead, but there was a far-off look in his eyes as if he no longer really comprehended what he saw. She tried to get up but slipped on the mud, and the spear point raised, preparing to strike.
Caught up in his bloodlust he didn’t even notice the Karzełek behind him. Eber’s brains were dashed out in a fountain of gore as the mace cracked open his battle helm and his body toppled to the floor. It was all Iwa could do to roll away so that he didn’t fall on her, his spear point missing her by inches as he hit the mud by her side. She had to get up, and quickly. She’d had enough of this place. Her face and hair were matted with blood and ichor.
Before her the Karzełek who had killed Eber stood, his club trembling in his hand as he looked down at her. And, for a second, the club hovered as if he was deciding whether to kill her or not, that ancient enmity playing across his face.
‘I have to keep the link with Lord Bethrayal!’ she screamed,
