Taker Of Skulls (Book 5)
Page 13
Kormak picked the closest group and sprang towards it, lashing out with his blade, cutting armour and flesh as if it were cloth, shattering bone as easily if it were porcelain. Within a dozen heartbeats, half a dozen of the great goblins were dead and he was carving a way through their line.
His instincts told him not to go too far. Doing so would take him into the line of fire for the exploding runestones and no blade could protect him from those. He needed to be close to Karnea and Sasha if he was going to protect them too.
A horn sounded close to him and turning he saw that Verlek and Boreas had returned to fight beside him. The dwarf’s axe flickered around him almost too fast for the eye to follow. Boreas had picked up a goblin scimitar. A glance behind him showed that Karnea stood near one of the great doors, Sasha beside her with a dagger in each hand.
All around them the goblin army surged, a sea of scaled flesh assaulting an island of whirling steel. Kormak cut and parried and slashed, losing track of everything in his desperate fury. Standing alone, any of the three would have been cut down at once but forming a triangle, and watching each other’s backs they managed to withstand the onslaught.
Kormak knew it was only a matter of time before the end came. Soon they would become too weary to parry their foes, or a lucky blow would get through and take one of them down, and then it would all be over.
He redoubled his efforts to slay, knowing that there was no hope of survival, determined that he was going to drag as many of his enemies down into death with him as he could. The unleashed fury of his blade was too much for the goblins. He drove them back towards the bridge, moving further from the gate. Howling desperate war-cries, Verlek and Boreas accompanied him.
The hail of runestones stopped. That was it then. His last hope, that the goblins would break in the face of the unrelenting hail of explosive missiles, died. They were on their own now and it was only a matter of time before they were pulled down.
Chapter Eighteen
A STRANGE MOMENT of calm swept over the battlefield. For a moment, the goblin assault ceased and all the screams and clamour faded away.
He stood amid a pile of fallen bodies, bleeding from scores of small cuts, and surveyed the sea of goblin faces. They had killed dozens but it made no difference, hundreds more waited to cut them down. They were encircled by the goblins, hundreds of saucer eyes stared at them. The creatures seemed to smile, revealing rows and rows of small sharp teeth and then, as if at a prearranged signal, began to chant the name of Graghur.
Horns sounded behind them. There was a grinding sound as if a great stone gate was being opened. The sounds of dwarf battle-cries rang across the plaza with the clangour of weapon upon weapon.
“Ferik has sallied forth,” Verlek shouted in Kormak’s ear. There was something like pure, unrestrained joy in his voice. The dwarf seemed drunk on killing. “I knew he would not be able to resist joining in such a fray!”
Much good that will do us, Kormak thought, unless we can join him. A quick glance back over his shoulder showed him that a flying wedge of heavily armed dwarves charging the goblin forces. “Back!” he shouted and began to cut a path through towards their rescuers. Boreas and Verlek followed.
The dwarves smashed through the confused goblins like the prow of a ship breaking through a wave. They left piles of dead and broken bodies around them. All of the dwarves were half-naked and made savage by their runic tattoos. Some of those glowed in the darkness as if focusing magical powers. The male dwarves were for the most part broader and more muscular even than Verlek, with longer beards that swirled around them as they fought. The females were just as underdressed and just as tattooed and they fought alongside the males with even greater fury.
Their chanting had taken on a resemblance to some great, strange song, like that of the galley slaves Kormak had once served among as they rowed. The dwarves moved in time to the chant, struck their blows on its beats. Their song seemed to bind them into one mighty, multi-limbed organism.
Comet trails descended from the walls again, explosions tore the further points of the goblin lines. Under the sheer force of the dwarven attack, their pursuers turned tail and fled, leaving Kormak and his companions to confront the angry, uncomprehending glares of the dwarves across the blood-soaked paving stones of the battlefield.
The tide of goblins flowed back across the bridge, scuttling as fast as their legs could carry them, the few surviving wolves leading the retreat. The dwarves chased them down, slaughtering those they caught. Some of the dwarves were going around the battlefield, severing goblin heads and collecting them. Bones splintered and spines snapped as they did so.
Kormak found himself confronting the largest dwarf he had seen so far. This one came almost to his throat and was far broader than Verlek, seeming almost as wide as he was tall. His tattooed arms were like tree-trunks and he held a great pick in one hand and an axe in the other. His beard reached almost to the ground even when he stood straight and it rippled like a nest of snakes. The dwarf’s ears twitched and his blank-seeming gaze met Kormak’s levelly.
“I knew you would not be able to resist such a fight, Ferik sire,” said Verlek happily. He seemed mightily pleased with himself, as if he had sprung a surprise party purely for the benefit of this huge dwarf champion. The massive dwarf bent over and severed a goblin head with a short savage chop of his axe. He did not once take his eyes off Kormak.
“You have caused a lot of trouble, youngling,” said Ferik. There was an undertone of exasperated affection as well as controlled anger in his tone. “What new trouble have you brought on the Hold now?”
Ferik’s eyes were fixed on Kormak’s blade. His beard rippled towards the Guardian, as if reaching out in his direction. Kormak sensed the tremendous power in this dwarf and the explosive violence. He realised it would not take too much to have it directed at him.
“I have blood-debt to these men,” said Verlek.
“You have blood-debt to Shadow worshipers?” The anger in that great booming voice outweighed the affection. There was suspicion in Ferik’s expression now. He tilted his head to one side as he examined the younger dwarf.
“I am not a Shadow worshipper,” said Kormak. “I am a champion of the Holy Sun.”
The strange dark eyes turned to regard Kormak. The lips tightened, revealing tombstone teeth in a mirthless grin. “You will speak when spoken to, man, or you will die. I am having words with my son. When I am done, I will have words for you.”
Kormak took a tight rein on his own anger. He was not used to being talked to in such a fashion but he was surrounded by the dwarves and he needed their help.
“He slew the Slitherer, father,” said Verlek. “He has killed many goblins. You have seen it with your own eyes. He can take many skulls.”
“The followers of the Shadow are cunning and given to many deceptions,” said another dwarf from nearby. He was not as large as Ferik and his face was leaner. There was something about the set of his mouth that did not seem quite right, that gave his face a sneering look. Kormak could see that this dwarf had a severed goblin head in each hand. He was holding them by their ears.
“My life is beholden to them, Utti,” said Verlek. “I have talked with them. I say they are not followers of the Shadow.”
Utti turned his sneering face to Verlek. “And what would one so young know about the ways of the Shadow? You have barely grown a beard, boy.”
The air between them fairly crackled with tension. There seemed to be real hostility between these two, Kormak thought.
“Aye, Utti, but I know how to fight, unlike some, who collect heads of those they did not kill for the Wall of Skulls.”
Kormak saw that all of the dwarves were red-handed now and were piling up small mounds of severed heads in front of them. Boreas was watching all of this with narrowed eyes. He did not understand Dwarvish but he could hear that the tone of speech was not friendly. Kormak put a hand on Boreas’ arm just to let him know everything was all right.
“Utti has just discovered that taking this one’s head might be harder than he thought.” Kormak sensed a change in the air. There was still suspicion and hostility but there was no longer a sense of imminent violence coming from Ferik. He realised the change had happened during the exchange between Utti and Verlek and just afterwards. Was it possible that Ferik did not like Utti?
Utti spat on the ground, but carefully. The spittle did not land anywhere near Kormak or the other dwarves. Ferik glanced around. It seemed like all the heads had been taken. The dwarves were starting to place them within sacks. They looked as happy as children who had collected their gifts on a feastday morning.
“We do not need to decide to do what to do with these humans right now,” said Ferik. He turned and looked at Kormak. “Put down your weapons!” he said.
Kormak looked back at him. Every fibre of his being rebelled against putting down his sword. He would almost rather lay down his life.
Ferik sensed this. Suddenly the violence was back in the air.
“You have the look of a handy man with a blade, whatever else you may be,” said the dwarf. “But we outnumber you and be assured we will kill you if you do not do as you are told.”
There was utter confidence in the dwarf’s manner. Kormak considered the situation. He could hold onto the sword and die. In that case, he would still have lost the blade. At least if he was still alive he might be able to reclaim it.
“Be not afraid, that anyone will take your sword. No one would want to carry such an unholy weapon,” said Ferik.
“The sword was forged by dwarves,” said Kormak.
“Aye, to our shame it was,” said the dwarf.
“I will carry it until it may be returned to you,” said Verlek. He said this as if he were taking a great burden upon himself. Kormak felt sure this was not from the responsibility of holding the weapon but because of the nature of the thing he had to carry. He seemed embarrassed but determined to do this anyway. He held out one huge hand to Kormak.
Kormak still considered refusing. He could see the tension in Ferik now. He glanced around and the other dwarves were all staring at him. One or two were thumbing the blades of their axes. The prospect of taking another skull seemed to appeal to them.
Abruptly, he pushed the scabbarded blade into the young dwarf’s hand. “Take good care of it,” he said.
“I will do my best,” said Verlek.
He slung it over his back as he had seen Kormak do. The Guardian wondered if he had made a huge mistake as the dwarves crowded in around him.
All of the humans were stripped of any weapons they were carrying. They took away Karnea’s bag of adjuncts and the rune on her arm as well. They seemed familiar with power of such things.
The dwarves looked oddly at Sasha when they took away her runestone thrower. One or two of them grumbled to each other in a tone that suggested that some dark suspicion had been confirmed. “What is going on?” she asked.
“We are being held prisoner,” said Kormak. “Until they decide what to do with us.”
“They don’t look any too friendly,” said Boreas. He went to stand beside Sasha, and hovered by her protectively.
“They think we are Shadow worshippers,” said Kormak. “I suspect they think everyone who lives outside their walls is one.”
“Living in this place I can see how they would believe that,” said Karnea.
Utti leaned forward and said very softly, “Be silent. Speak when you are told to.”
Karnea flinched away from him. Kormak stepped between the dwarf and the scholar. Utti did not seem quite so intimidated now that he was the only one of the two of them holding a weapon.
They were led into a vast hall with many low arched openings leading off from it. The guards took them to the right and led them down a long ramp. There were faint lights here glowing in the ceiling. They appeared to be of the same type as the one Karnea had carried and which had now been confiscated.
At the end of a corridor they were pushed through an arch. After they were inside a massive stone door slid down from the top of the arch, effectively cutting them off from all escape. Kormak looked around. The walls of the room were bare. There was no furniture. The place was more barren than any cell he had ever been in.
Sasha spread her hands wide and gave them a wan smile. “Just when I think things can’t get worse, they somehow manage to,” she said.
“We’re still alive,” said Kormak.
“There’s a lot of dwarves out there who seem to wish we were otherwise,” said Boreas.
“I don’t think their leaders want us dead.”
“Was the big one with the long beard their leader then?”
“Warleader perhaps. I don’t know if he was their chief.”
“Bastards took my stonethrower,” said Sasha.
“They think you stole it,” Karnea said. “I heard one of them say so.”
“How could I have stolen it from them? I’ve never set eyes on one of them before this trip.”
“I think they regard everything down here as their property. Not without reason since their ancestors made it.”
“You always seem to take their side,” said Sasha.
“There are no sides here,” said Karnea. “We should all be on the same side.”
“The dwarves don’t seem to think so,” Kormak said. Sasha looked at him gratefully. “They regard my sword as some sort of forbidden weapon, a device of evil. How could that be? It was made by dwarves.”
Karnea looked at him sidelong and Kormak felt suddenly naive. It was not a sensation he was used to. “How many men do you know who claim the works of other men are evil? There can be differences of opinions between dwarves as well as humans. It’s hardly surprising given the differences between these dwarves and those beneath Aethelas.”
“Differences?” Kormak asked.
“You have never encountered those dwarves, Sir Kormak? I am surprised.”
“I have been below, but they did not allow me to see them.”
“No. They would not. I did not see my first dwarf until I had been below for six months. They do not willingly deal with us face to face.”
“How are the two tribes different?” Sasha asked. She looked genuinely curious.
“These ones are much more primitive. They dress like orcs or southern barbarians, which is to say hardly at all. Their speech is rough and their runework, at least as exemplified by their tattoos, is both crudely done and over-elaborate.”
“You are saying these ones are less civilised?”
“Less sophisticated certainly.”
“They are the ones who remained in the City in the Deeps. You would think it would be the opposite.”
“A lot of things can happen in two thousand years.”
“I agree with you,” said Sasha. “They are certainly not what I expected, judging from the statues and artefacts we found in the Underhalls. These are like Aquilean hill-tribesmen. They don’t seem much above the level of goblins themselves.”
“Something happened here,” said Karnea. “And I mean to find out what if it kills me.”
“I don’t think it’s the finding out that will kill you,” said Kormak. “It will most likely be a dwarven axe.”
As he said the words, there was a creaking sound and the door slid slowly upwards. Two armed dwarves blocked the exit. Others stood behind them.
Chapter Nineteen
THE TWO ARMED dwarves entered. One of them was Utti, who gave them an evil look. The other was a hulking brute who Kormak did not recognise but who seemed to take his cue from Utti. The
y pushed the humans back against the far wall. Verlek entered bearing a tray of food and drink. He eyed the chamber with distaste then set the tray down on the floor.
Two of the dwarves retreated outside. Verlek and Utti remained as the door slid down. “Eat!” said Verlek. Kormak moved forward and inspected the plates. They contained slabs of something cooked in a very black sauce. There was flask and four small stone goblets as well. Kormak took one of the plates and a spoon and took a small taste of the slab. It was a mushroom in some sort of fermented sauce. The taste was not as unpleasant as he had expected.
“We won’t poison you,” said Utti. He sounded as if he had given the subject some consideration though. Kormak got the impression Utti would not mind poisoning them if he could get away with it. He poured some of the dark liquid into a flask and sipped it. It burned going down his throat and he had to fight to keep from spluttering. It was definitely very, very alcoholic. Kormak indicated that the others should eat and they fell too with a will. He realised it was a very long time since they had eaten.
“Not a place I would have put guests,” said Verlek. “It is an old storechamber.”
“They are not our guests,” said Utti.
“They are not our enemies either,” said Verlek.
“Not until the Dwarfmoot decides so.”
“The Dwarfmoot may decide they are our allies,” said Verlek.
“I doubt it,” said Utti. “There are the Faithful and there is everyone else.”
“Why do you call yourselves the Faithful?” Karnea asked.
Utti looked at the ceiling and blew air out through his lips with a peculiar fluttering sound. His beard fluttered around, its ends tying themselves into knots.