Sword of Wrath (Kormak Book Eight) (The Kormak Saga 8)

by William King

  “I don’t mind a good fight, but I hate standing around as a target for something I can’t see,” said Zamara.

  “My thoughts exactly,” said Kormak. “The boulder came from up there.”

  He pointed towards a ridge and began to move carefully forward, hugging cover, moving from tree to tree.

  Ahead, a grey moss-covered outcrop thrust out of the forest. Open ground separated him from it. He ran, feeling the strain on his thighs and calves as he raced uphill. Excitement tingled within his veins. He felt alive in the presence of danger. All his previous doubts vanished as he concentrated his full attention on keeping himself alive.

  He clambered up the rock spur and looked down. From here he had a view of the canopy of trees. He could see the gap where the rock had crashed through. Perhaps he might have been able to catch sight of the figures of people moving through it, if they had still been there.

  There were plenty of huge stones scattered around. The rocks were similar to the one that had killed the soldier.

  If something had cast the boulder, this seemed the most likely place for them to have stood, yet there was no sign of anything here. It was impossible for anything the size of a siege engine to have been placed here and moved at such short notice.

  Whatever had thrown the stone had either used sorcery or its own strength. Neither possibility was reassuring. He glanced at their surroundings. His amulets could protect him against spells but not against boulders, even if they were magically thrown.

  Zamara stomped up. “This is where the attack came from, you think?”

  “Yes,” Kormak said.

  “The men are getting worried and I don’t blame them. If we get any more of these attacks, it’ll be impossible to get them to push on without risking mutiny.” Zamara kept his voice low.

  “No way we can get back to the ship before nightfall,” Kormak said.

  “I don’t think that will make them any less rebellious. And the nobles down there will be just as bad. They won’t say they want to turn back directly, but they’ll find some reason.”

  “I understand if you want to return to the ship,” said Kormak. “If need be I’ll go on alone.”

  “And I’ll go with you if need be. But I get your point. If you announce that it’s no disgrace to turn back and that you’ll think no less of any man for doing so, they won’t—just to show they are not scared.”

  “We’ll do that if it comes to it,” said Kormak. “For the moment, let’s see what we can find.”

  “I’d dearly love to get my hands on whatever killed poor Tonus,” said Zamara.

  “Let’s hope you still feel that way after we’ve gotten a good look at it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Trees loomed around them, towering ten times Kormak’s height. Some had tumbled, blown over by the wind perhaps, or pushed aside by something huge. The canopy of leaves drew tight overhead, cutting off the light. They walked swiftly from patches of light to patches of darkness and back again. Around them, enormous rocks thrust out of the earth.

  Urag ranged far in advance. At times, Kormak went with him. The backwoodsman moved through the undergrowth with the stealth of a stalking beast, an axe in each hand. He paused and slathered the weapon’s blades with paste from a leather pouch. Kormak’s nostrils twitched as he caught the faint but unmistakable scent of devilsnake venom.

  He closed cautiously with the woodsman. Quiet as he was, Urag looked up. His head tilted to one side. The tendons in his hand tightened as he gripped his axe. His pale blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on Kormak. Was Urag about to attempt a cast?

  Footsteps sounded. Rhiana and Zamara came into view. As soon as he realised there were witnesses present, Urag turned to look downwind. He tensed as he heard the sound of something big crashing through the undergrowth.

  Rhiana moved up beside Kormak. A frown marred her brow. She turned to Kormak and said, “There’s something over there.”

  “Sounds like a mastodon,” said Zamara. His voice was flat and emotionless, which was a sign that he was holding his fear in check.

  Urag stalked forward like a hound on a trail. Kormak fell into place beside him.

  The noise in the grove ahead stopped. Tension thickened in the air. The flesh between Kormak’s shoulder blades tingled. He raised himself onto the balls of his feet, ready to move at the slightest hint of danger. At any moment, he expected another huge rock to come crashing through the tree branches.

  Beside him, Zamara swallowed. Rhiana frowned. “There’s something in there. Something tainted. It’s very close now.”

  “You don’t say,” Zamara said.

  The backwoodsman moved soundlessly ahead into the grove. There was tension in his manner, but no fear. Urag was excited, a hunter on the trail of extraordinary prey.

  Kormak advanced to Urag’s shoulder, moving just as silently. He raised a hand to indicate that the others should halt, and then slowly, carefully, he padded into the grove.

  There was a lot of brush. Branches crackled as he pushed them aside. Leaves brushed his face like the fingers of dead men. As soon as they were out of sight of the others, Kormak allowed Urag to move ahead, reluctant to have those poisoned axe-blades at his back.

  Urag grinned back at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, as if he knew what was going through Kormak’s mind.

  Something huge shifted its weight ahead of them.

  Urag threw himself flat on his belly and began to wriggle through the undergrowth like a snake. Kormak followed him.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they emerged into an open glade. Heavy breathing thrummed in the air. It sounded like a creature the size of a mastodon. Kormak saw huge feet like those of a man, only perhaps six times the size. Each toe ended in a talon.

  He looked up and up and up at the mutated form of a giant. It was twice as tall as a normal man, and so broad it looked apish. Its arms and legs were enormous, thick as tree trunks. Its huge chest bulged with muscle. It looked capable of lobbing a boulder far enough to kill the crewman.

  This was no normal giant, though. Kormak had spent time in the Northlands. This one was twisted by blight. Its eyes glowed red. They seemed to be pools of blood. The air smelled of rot.

  This giant was a hunchback. One arm was longer than another, and ended in sharp claws. The other hand clutched a massive warhammer. The shaft looked like a small tree. Its stone head could have been made of tombstones.

  When it shuffled forward, its movement seemed pained. Its nostrils flared as it sniffed the wind. Kormak wondered whether it had scented them. Normally giant senses were no keener than a man’s, but who knew what mutation could result in?

  The giant sniffed the air again and looked down. Its reddish gaze met Kormak’s own before the guardian could withdraw into the undergrowth. The enormous warhammer smashed down. Kormak rolled to one side, only just getting out of the way.

  Urag scrambled forth from the undergrowth and rose to his feet. He hacked at the giant’s leg. The poisoned axe drove deep into their huge foe’s leg.

  The giant grunted as if it barely felt the sting of the cut.

  Kormak rolled into an open space within the grove and rose to his feet. Roots threatened to trip him. The ground was rough and uneven.

  The giant’s bellow vibrated within Kormak’s chest, deafening as the blast of a great brazen trumpet. Many another man would have been paralysed in fear just by the sound. The giant struck. Kormak sprang aside, narrowly avoiding being tripped by one of the tree roots.

  “Enough,” he said. He slashed down at the tendon on the back of the giant’s left leg. Rune-etched dwarf-forged steel bit into corrupted flesh with a sizzling sound, a sure sign that evil magic permeated the huge body. The giant’s scream was higher-pitched than its roar, but no less disturbing.

  It turned, whirling the hammer in a circle. Kormak sprang into the air, passing above the shaft. Urag threw himself flat, narrowly avoiding an impact that would have broken bones.

  Kormak stabbed
upwards with his blade. It plunged into the area between the giant’s legs. The creature emitted a high-pitched squeal of absolute agony. Its clawed hand clutched at its groin.

  Kormak slashed again, hamstringing the other leg. The giant tumbled forward. The ground shook as it crashed to the earth.

  Kormak drove his blade through the vertebrae of the neck, severing the spinal column. He sprang clear as the giant spasmed and bucked in its death throes, taking long minutes to die. During that time, the others emerged into the grove. Their faces were pale and frightened.

  Zamara looked at the fallen monster with something like awe. “You killed it,” he said. “I would not have thought that possible.”

  “I fought giants before,” Kormak said. “In the North. The cold lands are full of them, and they are not always friendly to men.”

  “This is no normal giant,” Rhiana said. “It has been tainted by blight. It is full of evil magic. The giants of the North may be cannibals, but they do not look like this.”

  Kormak nodded. “The further north you get, the more corrupt the land becomes. Some of the giants who dwell there become twisted indeed. This one resembles such creatures.”

  “You’ve led an interesting life, Sir Kormak,” said Orson. “And you seem to have added one more to your tally of giants.”

  The merchant’s eyes went to Urag’s, and then to Burk’s. Some message flashed between them.

  “Urag put a poisoned blade into its leg. It slowed the giant down enough so that I could kill it.” Kormak looked at the work. “Devilsnake venom—it paralyses and then kills. It would have taken down the giant eventually.”

  He left the question hanging unasked in the air. What was the Terra Novan doing carrying enough serpent venom to kill a mastodon? He might be a bodyguard, but poison was an assassin’s weapon. In many places, the possession of such a toxin was a capital crime.

  “It’s just as well Urag was carrying it, then,” Orson said quickly. “It may have saved your life.”

  “Let’s hope there are not too many more like this one,” said Rhiana.

  “I’d like to know what this one was doing here,” said Zamara. “It’s a long way to the far north over the wide, wild seas.”

  “We get answers soon,” said Urag. “Trail leads down towards the water.”

  They trudged on, without enthusiasm for their quest.

  The sun hung low in the sky as they finally made it to the headland.

  “We’d have been quicker taking the Pride of Siderea,” said Zamara.

  “Only if we’d known the trail was here,” Kormak said.

  “There’s that, for sure.”

  Kormak gestured for them to crouch as they reached the ridge. He crawled forward to the brow of the hill, not wanting to be sighted against the skyline by any observer below.

  Beneath him stretched a long bay, perhaps a league around. Waves rolled up to the sandy shore. Overturned in the middle of the beach lay a massive longship of the sort favoured by the giants of the Northlands. Around it swarmed more of the monsters, wielding hammers, sawing planks.

  Hundreds of tiny-looking humans were penned inside a huge fence. One or two of them moved freely around among the Northlanders, dragging oversized tools. As Kormak watched, one of them was snatched up by a misshapen giant. It bit off the struggling man’s head, then munched on the remains of the body like a snack.

  Rhiana slid into place alongside Kormak. “Well, at least we know what they are doing,” she said.

  “Repairing their ship.”

  Rhiana nodded. “They must have been caught in the same storm we rode into Trefal harbour. It probably drove them ashore here. Broke the ship. They’re using their captives as food. That’s why they raided the town.”

  “Might have been looking for metal and tools,” said Kormak. “For nails and such.”

  “Maybe,” said Rhiana. “What are they doing here?”

  Kormak said, “Giants sometimes raid the Southlands. They follow the coasts all the way to the Shadow Kingdoms.”

  Rhiana studied the scene through the spyglass. “These are all blighted.”

  Borrowing the telescope, Kormak could see she was right. Every single one of the creatures below was twisted in shape and form, changed by the power of Shadow into a monstrous parody of a giant. “How many do you count?”

  “At least thirty,” said Rhiana.

  “Less than the crew of a normal longship. That means they lost a bunch when the ship ran ashore.”

  “Still more than enough to deal with our crew,” said Rhiana. “Not everybody can slay a giant as handily as you. I doubt most of the noblemen would stand their ground in the teeth of these monsters.”

  “They might surprise you,” said Kormak. “But you’re right. They would probably massacre us. One giant, I might deal with if it doesn’t get lucky. A few dozen, I don’t feel confident of.”

  “Thank the Lady for that,” said Rhiana. “I was beginning to think that nothing scared you.”

  “Looks like they’re almost done rebuilding the ship. They will be finished soon.” He looked at her for confirmation. He had seen giant shipwrights at work before, but she knew more about seagoing vessels than he.

  “Yes, you’re right. They’re ready to go, and I am willing to bet they are going to take the townsfolk with them. More meat on their bones than chickens and seabirds, easier to catch as well.”

  “We’re going to have to free them then,” said Kormak. “Tomorrow will be too late.”

  “You’re determined to fight, aren’t you?” Rhiana said, “If you’re doing it to impress me, there’s no need.”

  “I won’t leave people in the hands of cannibal giants,” he said.

  “They’re only cannibals if they eat their own kind.”

  “You see any gravemounds on the beach? That’s what giants usually do with their dead? If they don’t send them out to sea on a burning longship. They might only have gone for the villagers when they ran out of their own corpses.”

  “That’s a disgusting thought.”

  Rhiana grimaced. Kormak slid back down over the brow of the hill and went to fill Zamara and the nobles in on the situation.

  “You want to do what?” Orson Waters asked, jowls quivering. Great folds of fat creased around his eyes.

  “I want to free the townsfolk,” said Kormak. “And I am going to.”

  “I have every respect for your martial prowess, Sir Kormak,” said the merchant prince, “but it is unwise to risk all of our lives on such a foolhardy undertaking.”

  “I am not asking you to risk your life. You can go back to the ship if you want.”

  “Splitting the party is not a wise move,” said the merchant. His rich voice was reasonable. He was merely stating plain common sense. Not a few of the men present nodded their heads in agreement.

  “So you’d just abandon the people of Fort Wrath to be eaten,” said Rhiana. She sounded outraged. Clearly she had gotten over her earlier reservations.

  “I don’t see how getting eaten alongside them helps anyone,” Orson said. “I don’t see how getting killed will do those poor people any good.”

  He spread his arms wide, and looked at Zamara, “Tell me, Admiral, as a military man, what do you give for our chances against the giants down there?”

  “We outnumber them at least five to one,” Zamara said.

  “No offence, Admiral, but is that not like having five children fighting a grown man in full armour. The fight would be a little one-sided.”

  It was the wrong tone to take with Zamara. The admiral bristled. “We are not children, Goodman Waters, we are warriors. And the Guardian has already proven that we can kill the giants.”

  “He is armed with a dwarf-forged blade,” said Orson. “And with all due respect, there are few men as good with a sword as Sir Kormak.”

  “We have crossbows, and we have the poison that your bodyguard seems to value so highly. If he’s willing to share it, I am sure we can inflict our fair share
of casualties.”

  “But can we win?”

  Zamara shrank visibly, looked into the dark eaves of the forest and said, “In an open battle, probably not. One thrown stone killed poor Tonus—we are lucky it did not kill more. I saw what the giants did back at Fort Wrath, and that was a strongly defended position. I doubt we can kill all of them. Sorry, Sir Kormak.”

  “We don’t have to kill all of them,” said Kormak. “We don’t even have to do battle with the giants. We just have to get those people away.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?” Orson asked.

  “Under cover of darkness, I can slip in and break open the fence of the pen in which the humans are held. We can slip away while the giants sleep.”

  “What if someone screams or gives away your location?”

  “I’ll risk it.”

  “You’re risking the rest of us too.”

  “How? You will not be with me. You’ll be safely up here or making your way back to the ship.”

  “I am just trying to point out the flaws in your plan.”

  “There’s no one more aware of them than me, but I am going in.”

  “It might go better if some of us mounted an attack on the other side of the beach,” said Zamara. “It would distract the giants. We could sow confusion and then withdraw.”

  “You are not seriously considering we go along with this madness, are you, Admiral?”

  “Those people down there are subjects of the King-Emperor just like you, Goodman Waters. They are just as entitled to his protection. If we are careful, there need to be no great risk. We can move down, attack the sentries with our crossbows, set some fires and withdraw. While we do so, Sir Kormak can go in and free the prisoners.”

  “I will go with him,” said Rhiana.

  “How will you set fires? Won’t it give away your position?”

  “We’ll do it if we can. We can fire poisoned bolts as well. The moon will be bright tonight and the sky will be clear—there should be enough light for our purposes. If we are discovered, we will scatter into the forest and fall back along the trail to Fort Wrath when it’s light.”