The timid Pict, the gwyllion, damn them, and the Iceni scouts had done their job well. They had counted the enemy. Bladud commanded more spears than they did. Tangwen’s plan had called for the Lochlannach to be let among the warband on purpose.
‘Form shield wall!’ Bladud screamed. Behind him the spear-carriers dropped their spears, daggers were the order of the day. They fell upon the Lochlannach, cutting tendons, carrying them to the ground, stabbing and slashing. It had been a complex plan, too complex in Bladud’s opinion, but it was working, somehow. He could not ever remember being as happy as he was when he saw the shield wall form again.
There was a cheer, followed by a crash that shook the gory, slush-covered ground. The spearmen had done their job. One of the giants had fallen. Tangwen had spoken with the god in the Red Chalice. This Gofannon had forged them spears designed for killing the huge creatures. Tangwen had told him that the giants had people in them. It hadn’t made any sense, even to a trained dryw, but when rammed into the giants the spearheads would grow into roots that sought out the people inside the huge creatures. Bladud had suspected they would just slay the creature’s last meal, but it looked like Tangwen had been right. The gwyllion archers had gone to cover the spearmen, shooting down any Lochlannach that attempted to aid their giant allies.
Bladud could hear the sound of killing being done behind him. In front of him the remaining Lochlannach were forming up. Someone else in the shield wall pitched forwards face-down into the churned-up red slurry.
‘Let’s charge these cunts!’ Bladud screamed. The ragged, painted, blood-soaked Pretani warriors and spear-carriers screamed and charged the Lochlannach. Bladud slipped and almost went down. He felt feverish, he was growing hotter and hotter, but it felt good.
‘Bastard!’ Britha screamed and swung her spear, blade-first, at Bress. He leapt the blade. An arrow hit him in the shoulder in mid-air but glanced off his armour and they were past him. Another arrow shot past Britha as Tangwen, now behind her, loosed on Crom. Britha had to let go of her spear with one hand and grab the frame of the cart as it slewed violently to one side to avoid Crom Dhubh.
The near deafening sound of the ice breaking echoed through the cavern. At the tip of the island closest to where the light beneath the frozen lake was, a giant had just burst through the frozen surface of the lake underneath one of the chariots. The creature flung the team and cart up into the cavern’s ceiling, bouncing it off tooth-like rocks. Britha stared in horror. It grabbed another chariot and dragged it, screaming horse team and all, into the hole it had made in the ice. The archer and the charioteer jumped clear but the yoke-riding warrior was caught in the huge creature’s fingers. The archer fired arrow after arrow into the massive creature as it pulled itself out of the lake and onto the ice.
At first Britha had thought they were some kind of hunting creatures running from the island across the ice, but then she recognised the transformed children. The charioteer drew her sword, and the Iceni archer in her lynx headdress turned to loose arrows on them, but they were swarmed and pulled, screaming, down onto the ice, teeth and nails finding flesh.
Britha saw Tangwen’s chariot veer towards Bress. Calgacus, standing unsteadily, put one foot on the back of a galloping horse and threw himself shield-first at Bress. This surprised even Bress. Calgacus’s shield, with the Cait mormaer’s weight behind it, caught Bress in the face and chest. He went down hard, both of them sliding across the ice.
‘You fool,’ Britha said under her breath. ‘Turn around! Get me to Bress, now!’ she screamed at the charioteer. It was a question of whether or not the chariot could get there before Calgacus was killed.
They had ground the Lochlannach’s numbers down at great cost to themselves. Soulless and unfeeling the demon-possessed warriors may have been, but they hadn’t been expecting the charge. They probably hadn’t been expecting them to fight the giants toe-to-toe either. Now it was a simple expedient of break their enemy up, and fight them two to one. Bladud knew they had to kill every single one of them.
Garim at his side, the Witch King stalked through the mêlée looking for a victim. Frankly he was glad of a moment to catch his breath, the magics of the chalice coursing through his body notwithstanding. It was eerie the way the Lochlannach didn’t scream as they were borne to the ground and stabbed, slashed, or bludgeoned to death.
The spearmen were working together, attacking the giants from all sides. The gwyllion who had been supporting them had cast aside their bows. They ran between the giants’ legs, even in the cold they fought nearly naked, throwing themselves high at the Lochlannach without regard for their safety, or they rolled under sword slashes to attack the demon-possessed warriors from behind. The gwyllion fought together, reminding Bladud of a wolf pack. They harried their foe, brought them down and killed them. He watched as a giant crushed one of the gwyllion, and then flung the broken body at their lines.
Bladud saw Germelqart sit down, the snow still white underneath him, surrounded by a group of painted gwyllion warriors. He was holding the Red Chalice in his hands, his eyes closed, concentrating.
Bladud saw Ysgawyn fighting two of the Lochlannach, his blade flicking out. The blade of a sickle penetrated the helmet of one of the demon-possessed warriors; the man shook and then collapsed to his knees. Guidgen was standing behind the Lochlannach. Ysgawyn darted forwards and finished the other enemy warrior, before bowing to the gwyll dryw. Even from as far away as he was Bladud could make out the mockery of the gesture. Ysgawyn turned and moved away from Guidgen, obscuring Bladud’s view of the old dryw. Suddenly the rhi of the Corpse People stopped and went rigid. The Witch King stared as a sickle blade circled Ysgawyn’s neck and then harvested his throat. The rhi fell into the red slurry. Guidgen was standing over him. The bloody red sickle in his left hand.
No! Bladud thought. That cannot stand! He had his suspicions as regards the Corpse People’s part in Nils’ murder – if Madawg had killed Nils it was unlikely he would have acted alone – but Guidgen couldn’t just do as he pleased. Bladud was furious. Steam was rising as the slush melted around him. He felt the heat of the riasterthae frenzy that gripped him.
‘Form here!’ Tangwen screamed, and her charioteer slewed the chariot to a halt some hundred paces in front of Crom Dhubh as he advanced towards them. Britha rode between them and the Dark Man, arrows flying past her as Tangwen loosed again and again at the obsidian-skinned figure. The other remaining chariots were pulling up next to Tangwen, the archers also loosing at Crom Dhubh. The chariots were ready just behind the archers to carry them away when the Dark Man got too close. The warriors were grabbing their longspears, running to face the giant stalking across the ice towards them. There were only four warriors, four archers.
Britha turned to look ahead. Calgacus had stumbled to his feet first. Britha knew he needed to move, but the Cait mormaer looked dazed. She was aware of the light beneath the ice brightening. Calgacus had managed to draw his sword. He was looking around for Bress. The chariot was bearing down on the warrior from the Otherworld, spiked wheels and studded hooves kicking up chips of ice.
‘Redden the ice!’ Britha screamed. ‘Run him down!’ She noticed that Bress was carrying the case that contained Fachtna’s terrible spear. At the last moment Bress rolled to one side and swung his sword up through the first horse on one side of the team, then the next. He cut through the frame of the cart, cut through the charioteer at his midriff. Britha had thrown herself back the moment she had seen him move. The blade of her spearhead cut through the leather she had tied herself to the frame of the chariot with. His blade flashed over her, narrowly missing. Then she hit the bloody ice and slid along after the mangled remains of the chariot and horse team.
Bress didn’t know if he was trying to kill her or not any more. Tears stung his eyes as he straightened up. The warrior who had thrown himself at him looked like he had recovered enough to attack. He swung at Bress. It was a good swing, if Bress had been a normal human of this realm. Bre
ss just leant back out of the way of the blade. His own sword cut the man’s shield in two, and took his arm off at the elbow. Bress stepped back and let his opponent think about the situation for a moment. The man stared at the bleeding stump of his shield arm as though he didn’t really believe what was happening. Then he swung again. Bress parried as he glanced back at Britha. He had learned not to let his lover get behind him when she was angry. She was still lying on the bloody ice. Beyond her was the wreckage of the chariot and team. Bress turned back to the man he was fighting. He swung low, cutting through both the man’s legs at the knee. The man’s body fell to the ice. Beyond his opponent he could see Crom Dhubh. His master had arrows sticking out all over him. Even from where Bress was standing he could see the living, iron roots moving in the Dark Man’s flesh like a second, living skin of red metal. Bress turned back to his opponent, who was flopping around on the bloody ice waving his sword at him. Bress studied the man, trying to work out why he was still attempting to fight. Did the man feel hate as he did, or was he motivated by something else? He stepped to one side, sword at the ready as his erstwhile love walked past the wounded warrior on the ice. She rammed the head of her spear through his opponent’s chest and twisted. The man lay still on the ice in a widening pool of red. Britha turned to face him.
‘Assassins?’ she demanded, her face a storm.
‘I told you to get rid of the child.’ He would not look her in the eyes. ‘I could not do it myself.’
‘Coward!’ she spat.
‘It would seem so,’ he said, nodding. Then he looked up at her. ‘But you cannot beat me. It’s over.’ Beyond her, Crom Dhubh was stumbling as arrow after arrow thudded into him. The archers stepped back onto the chariots, and the chariots moved further away from Crom Dhubh. The archers were still loosing. Bress frowned. Had his master badly misjudged these people again?
Bress watched as the giant swept a warrior aside, then picked up another and squeezed; a third it stamped on. The fourth tried to run but didn’t get very far. Bress turned back to Britha. She was looking at the bright light shining through the ice.
‘What’s happening?’ she demanded.
Bress risked another quick look towards Crom Dhubh. The giant was making its way towards the archers and the chariots. The Dark Man suddenly faltered, and knelt down on the ice. Bress frowned.
‘Give me the rod!’ Britha screamed at him. He looked back to her.
‘I do not have it,’ he said, and glanced at the light underneath the ice. Britha followed his gaze. Then she saw Crom Dhubh on his knees. She dropped her spear on the ice, and walked quickly to Bress.
‘You promised. You can be free. Please.’ She was begging now. He shook his head. Crom Dhubh’s will was too great. The giant would reach the archers and kill them before they could ever do lasting harm to the Dark Man.
‘I cannot,’ he said. Then he looked down at her, at her stomach. He put his hand on her belly and swallowed, only faintly aware of the tears running down his face. ‘What this starts … you have to kill it … promise me and I …’ Bress looked over at Crom Dhubh on his knees again. He liked that. He turned back to Britha. ‘Swear to me you’ll kill it?’ She stared back at him. ‘Swear it.’
‘Yes,’ she said. He wasn’t sure of the truth of it.
‘Make me believe it, or I’ll kill you both now!’ Bress shouted, shaking her. The archers were on the chariots again, loosing arrows up at the giant as it bore down on them, the chariots trying to get up to speed.
‘Yes! Yes! I’ll kill it! I’ll kill your seed for my daughter! A child by a better man than you!’ she screamed. Bress read the hate in her face. He could feel it as pain. He felt his own face hardening. He nodded, blinking away tears.
‘You need to get very far away from me,’ he said. Britha was backing away from him. ‘Very far. The light will take you where you want to go.’ He reached behind him for the case containing Fachtna’s spear: the Spear of the Sun. The spear that Crom had wanted him to carry back to its home, the Ubh Blaosc, and use against them. He was a slave. He had always been a slave. He could not break Crom Dhubh’s control over him. The Dark Man had provided him with the magics that helped control the spear, which protected him from the insane mind inside the weapon. He couldn’t fight Crom Dhubh, but if the spear possessed him, if he voluntarily dropped his defences …
‘Run!’ he screamed at her. He opened the case and took out the hungry burning spear, and surrendered to it.
The last giant fell. The remaining Lochlannach were being hunted down and killed. There could be no mercy. Steam rose from the snow and slurry with every footfall as Bladud made his way towards Guidgen. He could see others now. Gwynn, the remaining Corpse People warrior, looked as though he was glowing from within as well.
The heat was agony now. He was burning from the inside as he managed to put one step in front of the other. The old dryw saw him coming. Bladud pointed at him with his sword.
‘You!’ he cried. He tried to swing his sword at the dryw. Guidgen stepped back. Bladud’s sword, re-forged in the chalice, turned to dust, red dust. The Witch King stumbled and fell to his knees. Guidgen looked down at him sympathetically. Nearby Gwynn screamed as he burst into flames. Bladud was shaking his head. ‘This is neither right nor fair.’
Guidgen swallowed hard. ‘You wanted too much.’
Bladud looked down. The pain made him want to scream but he didn’t.
‘After all I have done,’ he said. ‘I did not deserve this.’
‘No,’ Guidgen admitted. ‘No, you did not.’ He knelt down in front of the Witch King. ‘They are already singing of you in Annwn.’ As the last of the Lochlannach died Bladud’s warband’s weapons turned to red dust. The Witch King could see beyond Guidgen to where Germelqart sat on still pristine, white snow, protected by the gwyllion warriors. More warriors burst into flames, those who had drunk from the chalice. They deserved better than this, as did their terrified friends and allies. Some tried to help, some ran in terror, others just watched, numb after everything they had seen and done today. Bladud looked up at Guidgen.
‘So you and your little circle control the Red Chalice and all its magics?’ he managed. Guidgen nodded. ‘What makes you think you’ll be any better than me?’ He saw the doubt on Guidgen’s face. Bladud burst into flames, but the Witch King did not scream.
Britha watched as Bress lit up from within, skin smoking, veins and eyes burning, the ice already starting to melt under him. The spear wreathed in flame. She was running now.
‘Tangwen!’ she screamed. The giant leant down and with one hand swept another of the chariots away, sending it spinning through the air to slam into the cavern wall. ‘Tangwen!’ She was trying to wave at the younger woman as she ran.
Bress threw the spear. It screamed in flight, seeming to suck all the air towards it. Britha couldn’t have been heard over the spear, but for some reason Tangwen turned to look at her. The chariot changed direction. The spear flew through the giant leaving a burning hole, growing larger as its gnarled flesh melted in the weapon’s wake. The giant was still, then it tottered, then it fell. The ice around the massive creature cracked, but it did not fall through.
Tangwen reached for Britha as the chariot thundered by. Britha grabbed the hunter’s arm, the speed of the chariot trying to wrench her own arm off, and swung up into the cart. She knelt down on the boards of the chariot, clinging onto the frame for dear life.
The spear hit the roof of the cavern. Jagged, tooth-like rocks dropped through the ice and into the lake below. Cracks ran from the burning stone the spear had left behind it.
She watched as what had been Bress – for he was little more than a vessel for the demon, or the god, that lived in the burning spear now – turned to look at Crom Dhubh. The Dark Man had staggered to his feet and was slowly, painfully, pulling arrows with wriggling heads from his desiccated flesh. Bress started walking towards the obsidian figure. Tangwen’s chariot rounded the island and they were lost from view.
>
The light at the other end of the island, under the ice, changed from warm amber to a cold, burning, bright blue. It refracted off the ice and now the whole cavern was that colour.
‘Head towards that!’ Britha shouted at the blonde, scarred charioteer. The woman glanced behind her at the ban draoi, but changed course. On the other side of the island there was another, really bright light. Ice and water were thrown up into the air. Some powerful, unseen force hit the chariot, causing it to skid in a spray of ice chips, but the spiked wheels found purchase again. They were nearly at the light. Britha had no idea what to do when they got there. Then the ice disappeared in a perfect circle above the stones. The circle was edged in bright blue fire. There was no water in the circle. The blonde charioteer was dragging on the reins trying to stop the team, but they were going too fast.
On the other side of the island something burst through the ice. Britha only caught a glimpse of it; she assumed she couldn’t actually be seeing what she thought she was seeing. It looked like some kind of structure, like the one she had seen the edge of in the water, next to the standing stones, when she had first gone to Oeth.
The spear exploded back through the roof of the cavern, heading straight for the flying structure. Cracks shot out across the ice. Cracks appeared climbing up the rock wall of the cavern. The ice under their chariot collapsed. Cold lake water surged over the circle of blue fire, and they found themselves sliding down the ice as panicked horses desperately tried to backtrack. In the centre of the circle of blue fire they could see Lochlannach surrounding one figure. Everything seemed to slow down. The figure turned to look at her as the chariot and team slid down the ice. Skin covered its eyes, nostrils, mouth and ears, yet it looked familiar somehow. A vertical reptilian eye opened in its forehead. The chariot slid into the circle of blue fire from above.
The Beauty of Destruction Page 46