* * * * *
‘Is everything prepared?’ Puck snapped in irritation.
Grimbert looked up from the mystical sigils that he had been carving into the cavern floor, and nodded. He produced a sacrificial dagger and an ornamented chalice.
‘Bring the prisoners,’ he ordered.
The goblins scuttled over to Oswald and his companions. As they approached, Bork glowered at them.
‘Get your filthy hands off me,’ he snarled. ‘Or I’ll break your filthy little necks!’
‘Bork,’ Oswald remonstrated, shooting a glance at King Caradawg, who stood silent and uncertain beside the wizard. ‘Don’t struggle.’
As the goblins chivvied the chained prisoners towards the wizard’s carvings, and the scaly breast of the slumbering Red Dragon, Puck wrung his hands and giggled.
‘The warrior is right,’ he piped. ‘It is useless to resist, humans!’
The goblins moved away from the prisoners, and Grimbert strode to their sides.
‘Only a little blood is needed to awaken the Red Dragon,’ he said in a murmur. ‘But since you saw fit to try and foil our plans, you will all suffer. The strong one shall die first.’
He reached forward, and tore open Bork’s tunic. The berserker growled wrathfully, and his chains jangled.
‘No escape for you,’ hissed the wizard. He brought the blade slashing down, gashing Bork’s hairy chest. Blood oozed out of the wound. The wizard pressed the chalice to the berserker’s skin, catching the first drops, ignoring the Dane’s silent glare.
Then the blood stopped.
‘What’s this?’ demanded Grimbert. The berserker’s eyes rolled, and he howled like a wolf. ‘Going berserk?’ laughed the wizard. ‘But these chains will hold even the strongest of madmen.’
With a shrug, Bork flung the chains off him. Grimbert stared in amazement, as the four prisoners stepped free.
A clatter rang through the cavern, as Grimbert dropped the chalice. It rolled into the shadows besides the coiled dragon.
‘You’re not the only magician here,’ Alfrun said with a wild laugh, producing a freshly carved rune stave. ‘While you were working your sorceries, I was busy at my own.’
Bork lunged at the wizard, and lifted him high.
‘Stop them!’ the goblin king yelled, startled out of his momentary stupefaction. The goblins scuttled forward. Bork twisted round, and flung the wizard at them, sending four of them stumbling like ninepins.
At that moment, Oswald ran to King Caradawg, grappling him and bearing him to the ground. Caradawg, his eyes blazing, punched the thane in the belly, and staggered back to his feet. Oswald sank to the floor, wheezing. Caradawg drew his sword.
The goblins leapt upon Alfrun and Bork. Cadwallader rushed forward.
‘Back, evil ones!’ he cried, and thrust his crucifix in their direction.
The goblins halted, hissing at the holy symbol.
Caradawg raised his sword. Oswald looked up in dismay, weakly struggling to rise. He heard a rumble from behind him, and wondered what it was.
Puck thrust his way through the ranks of goblins. Cadwallader forced the cross in his face. The goblin king’s eyes flickered a little, but then he reached forward, and twisted the cross from the priest’s fingers.
‘Your god is strong,’ he spat. ‘But not all-powerful.’ He squeezed hard, and the broken cross fell to the floor.
‘What are you waiting for?’ he barked at the goblins. ‘They are weaponless! Kill them, and feed the dragon with their blood!’
Oswald stared up at Caradawg’s face.
‘You fool!’ he said wildly. ‘If you let them raise the dragon, all hell will break loose! Britain will be destroyed, perhaps the entire world! Darkness will reign supreme, and man’s lot will be a sorry one.’
‘Then my people will be avenged,’ the king hissed. ‘All nations of the Earth shall be driven from their lands by the hordes of chaos, to eke out a miserable existence in the wastelands of the world. Then all shall know what my people have suffered.’
Again, he raised his sword. Then his gaze shifted beyond Oswald, and his face fell.
The sword clattered to the cavern floor. Caradawg turned to run.
Oswald felt a terrible, blistering wave of heat from behind him, like meeting a furnace almost head on.
Alfrun, Bork, and Cadwallader were flung to the ground before Puck and the goblins. Alfrun raised her head.
Looming high above Oswald, its eyes blazing with a terrible reptilian hatred, was the Red Dragon. Beneath it, the thane looked like a child.
‘The dragon rises!’ cried Grimbert from the corner where he lay.
‘Aye!’ Puck exulted. He took a step forward. ‘Red Dragon!’ he cried. ‘Kill he who lies before you!’
The dragon turned its baleful eyes to glare down at Oswald.
‘Now, kill the prisoners!’ shouted Puck. The goblins advanced on Alfrun, Bork and Cadwallader, who began to back away.
‘Is this the end?’ murmured the priest.
A clatter of running feet came from the far side of the cavern.
Oswald rolled swiftly as white-hot fire splashed across the rocks where he had lain. The dragon turned its head towards him. He tried to scrabble away.
His groping hand closed on a sword hilt.
Four warriors charged into the cavern. The goblins turned at their approach. The newcomers halted, staring in terror at the dragon, where it reared over a sword-wielding man.
Puck cursed.
‘Forget the prisoners!’ he screamed. ‘Kill these warriors!’
The goblins rushed at the four men. Alfrun recognised the man at the head as Edwin. Then all was red chaos as the warriors drew steel, and fought the goblins.
Oswald confronted the reptile, his sword trembling almost uncontrollably in his hand. The dragon opened its mouth to vomit more flame. Then Oswald struck.
The sword sank easily into the red flesh of the dragon’s mouth, and clove through bone and scale as if through air. Black blood gushed from the dragon’s throat, showering the thane. The creature convulsed, and sent Oswald tumbling to the ground. Its massive tail lashed out, striking the cavern wall, and the roof began to cave in.
‘Edwin!’ Alfrun screamed, as boulders rained down.
‘Come on!’ Bork roared. ‘We can’t stay here!’ He grabbed her and Cadwallader, and dragged them across the cavern.
Edwin broke away from the battle, as the roof began to shower him and his opponents with a deadly rain of rock. He glimpsed Bork leading Alfrun and Cadwallader towards him, and behind them, the mortally wounded dragon thrashing in its death throes.
He turned to Hywel.
‘I think we would be wise to leave,’ he said.
The Sword of Wayland Page 45