Then, abruptly, they stopped. The red rain slackened. The axes sheared apart with tooth-shivering speed. Gotrek’s axe took his enemy in the chest, sinking deep into the baroque cuirass. The warlord’s own snapped down and gashed the Slayer’s shoulder, but Gotrek didn’t break away. Instead he bit down on the pain and grabbed his opponent’s helm and jerked his axe free, staggering the Gorewolf.
With a guttural cry, Gotrek hacked the warlord’s hand off at the wrist, sending both hand and axe twirling away. Then he chopped into the giant’s knee, dropping him down. Armoured fingers fastened tight about Gotrek’s windpipe and the Slayer’s face began to go purple as he shoved the warlord’s head back, trying to snap the man’s spine.
There was a sound like logs being split and then the fingers digging into Gotrek’s throat released their hold and the warlord flopped back, dead. Gotrek stepped back awkwardly, rubbing his throat, staring at the corpse. The body twitched and thrashed, like a broken-backed snake, and he saw that there was still fire in the eyes within the helm.
‘Gotrek, he’s still alive,’ Felix whispered.
‘Not for long,’ Gotrek rasped, lifting his axe. ‘Join your beast, Gorewolf.’ The axe fell with cruel finality and Garmr’s head rolled free. Gotrek hefted it by the mane of hair attached to the helm and stared into the flickering eyes, holding the head’s gaze as the fire in its eyes dimmed and at last went out. Gotrek hawked and spat into the snarling muzzle and then tossed the head aside.
The rain stopped. The last skull fell silent. Felix turned, letting out a breath. Then, with a sickening realization, he saw that they were surrounded. The Gorewolf’s demise had not passed unnoticed. Though most of the vastly reduced and disorganized Chaos force was already engaged with Garagrim’s throng in what would likely be the former’s last battle, some had remained behind – cagey champions and chieftains, waiting for their warlord to fall in order to swoop in and claim the spoils. Now, they urged their warriors on and Chaos marauders surrounded the Slayer and Felix.
‘Well,’ Gotrek said, noticing them. ‘Who’s next?’
They approached slowly, confident in their ability to overcome their prey despite all evidence to the contrary. Given the sheer number of them, Felix thought that their confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced. He glanced down and saw one of the fragments from the sorcerer’s shattered helm. In it, a ghostly image of he and Gotrek, lying dead, swam to the surface and he felt a chill.
The first marauder lunged, driving a crude sword towards Gotrek’s head. The Slayer grunted and his axe chopped through blade and the belly behind. ‘Is that it? I kill your warlord and his pet and this is what you send me?’ He looked up and shook his axe at the sky. ‘Is that it?’ he howled. There might have been laughter hidden in the distant rumble of thunder that answered, but Felix didn’t want to think about it.
Felix blocked a spear thrust and opened the man’s throat with Karaghul’s tip. As the Chaos marauder fell, legs kicking, Felix looked around at the marauders that now surrounded them on all sides. Weapons pressed close to them as Gotrek and Felix came back-to-back, facing their enemies. The Slayer looked tired. The days of constant fighting had begun to sap even his inhuman constitution.
‘I guess we’re both meeting your doom here,’ he said shakily.
‘Aye,’ Gotrek said, hefting his axe. ‘It’s time to finish this.’
‘You don’t sound happy about that,’ Felix said.
‘The moment has passed,’ Gotrek spat. ‘The Gorewolf or his beast… Those would have been dooms. But this… This is just death.’
‘Seems fairly similar to me,’ Felix muttered. Spears and swords ringed them on all sides. Preferences or not, they were likely to die here. He felt a moment of bitterness, but before he could vocalize it, a man screamed. Then another and another, as a great, foul shape rose with a choking scream from amidst the gathered marauders.
The monster lurched suddenly to its feet, burst eye weeping, jaws sagging, the cleft in its skull oozing. It gurgled and lunged and men went down in a red rush, broken and dying. A champion, too slow, tried to avoid a titanic backhand and was sent hurtling through a war-shrine, scattering brass sigils and bloody skulls.
The monster lunged, driving into the middle of the gathered marauders, scattering them with its bestial momentum. Men flew in all directions and bodies thudded to the stone as the beast drove north-east, its agonized roars trailing behind it. As it ran, it carved a path of carnage through the forces that remained in the pass.
‘It’s not dead,’ Gotrek said wonderingly. A smile spread across his craggy face and he turned to look at Felix, beaming as happily as a child. ‘It’s not dead!’ Gotrek shook his axe and called out, ‘Come, manling! It’s getting away!’
‘It’s heading north,’ Felix said. Behind him, he could hear the sound of the throng of Karak Kadrin drawing closer. Felix did not look back, but he could hear the thunder of handguns and the war-dirges of the dwarf clansmen as they approached the now confused ranks of the Gorewolf’s leaderless and unprepared horde. If he stayed, they would welcome him. There was safety there.
‘So?’ Gotrek roared back. ‘I’ll track it all the way to the Chaos Wastes if I have to! Now come on, it’s getting away!’
‘But… but–’ Felix began, watching the Slayer stump swiftly north, in pursuit of the beast, heedless of the crippled Chaos army that reeled around him. Gotrek knew as well as he that the Gorewolf’s horde was done, and the Slayer didn’t concern himself with beaten foes. Ungrim and Garagrim would smash what was left and send them running north on the heels of the beast. Gotrek had bigger prey.
Felix looked down and saw more shards of the shattered sorcerer’s helm. They were growing dull, the images they held fading at last. He saw death in them, and other things, moments of joy and renown; victories and happiness.
But always, Gotrek was there. For good or ill, he and the Slayer were bound together by bonds stronger than simply friendship or obligation. Something that might have been the laughter of dark, distant gods whispered at the back of his head.
‘Come, manling!’ Gotrek shouted, whooping happily. ‘We go north!’
‘Of course we do,’ Felix said with a heavy sigh, as he followed the Slayer into the heart of the Chaos horde, in pursuit of an unkillable monster. ‘Of course we do…’
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author of the novels Knight of the Blazing Sun, Time of Legends: Neferata and Gotrek and Felix: Road of Skulls, Josh Reynolds used to be a roadie for the Hong Kong Cavaliers, but now writes full time. His work has appeared in various anthologies, including Age of Legend and several issues of the electronic magazine Hammer and Bolter.
A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION
Published in 2013 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd., Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK
Map by Nuala Kinrade.
Cover art by Winona Nelson.
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