John Gwynne - Malice

Thannon strode towards the eagle-guards, one of their number stepping forward. It was Rauca, Corban realized, leader of Nathair’s honour guard.

‘Come no further, big man,’ he said. ‘No need to die fighting for a king already slain.’

‘Alive or dead, you have my King in there,’ Thannon challenged. ‘I mean to take him from you.’

Rauca assessed Thannon, noting the great bloodstained war-hammer in the blacksmith’s hands. He shrugged. ‘We are no strangers to giants,’ he said, then stepped back into line with his men. ‘Wall,’ he shouted, and the warriors’ shields came together with a loud crack .

Thannon swung his hammer at a shield, but it held, the force of the blow dissipated by the supporting shields either side. Scowling, Thannon swung again, and Buddai leaped forwards, sinking teeth into a warrior’s calf. There was a scream, the shield dropping slightly, and then Thannon’s hammer crashed into the warrior’s helm. He collapsed instantly and Thannon thrust into the gap in the line, but the ranks closed up too quickly, and a sword-point found Buddai. The brindle hound yelped and fell, and Thannon lunged forwards, battering at the shields to reach his hound. Corban gasped as a host of short swords suddenly jabbed forwards, seemingly from out of the shields themselves. His da grunted in shock as blades pierced him.

Corban opened his mouth, drew breath to scream, and reached out to pull his da clear. But something slammed into his side, sending him sprawling to the floor. He managed to keep his grip on sword and shield, and looked up to see Helfach and Rafe coming at him with blades drawn.

‘No one to help you now, boy,’ the huntsman snarled. Corban stood, looking desperately for his da, saw the big man stagger back from the row of shields and drop to one knee. Corban took a pace towards him, then Rafe was there, blocking his view. Panic-driven anger drove him to swing wildly at the huntsman’s son, but his blade was parried easily. In his haze he almost forgot Helfach, remembering him as the huntsman slashed for his ribs. Corban caught the blow on his shield, blocked another from Rafe with his sword, and tried to draw both men in front of him. If he didn’t focus he would be too dead to help his da.

Helfach and Rafe struck at him almost at the same time, one left, one right. Corban blocked Helfach’s blow with his shield, parried Rafe’s blade, and took a step back. They pressed forwards. Instead of stepping back, Corban smashed his shield into Helfach’s face, punching at Rafe with his sword hilt. Helfach took an unsteady step backwards, but Rafe sidestepped Corban’s blow, and hacked at Corban’s side. Hoping Helfach was incapacitated, if only for a few moments, Corban spun around and blocked the sword swipe to his ribs. He stepped forwards with his shield lifted high, swept his sword underneath and felt it chop into flesh. Rafe screamed.

Corban saw terror in his enemy’s eyes, then there was a white pain in Corban’s shoulder and he was suddenly spinning and falling.

He looked up to see Helfach grinning wildly, blood dripping from a ruined nose, and from his sword-tip.

‘This ends now, boy,’ Helfach yelled and raised his sword, then Corban heard a deep-throated snarling growl and the huntsman was gone, tumbling away in a mass of fur and snapping teeth. Wolven and man rolled to a halt, Storm on top, jaws clamped around the huntsman’s throat, his arms and legs battering futilely at her body. With a savage wrench of her neck, blood sprayed high. Helfach’s feet twitched and then were still.

Corban staggered to his feet, pain radiating from his left shoulder where Helfach had stabbed him, and Rafe stumbled away back into the battle. But Corban only cared for his da, somehow back on his feet, though blood-drenched from many wounds.

Nathair stepped through the ranks of his guard, Rauca beside him, a deadly short stabbing sword in his hand.

As Corban watched, Thannon swung his hammer but the blow was slow and weak. Rauca ducked beneath it, and gave Buddai a sharp kick to the ribs. Then Nathair stepped in close and rammed his sword into Thannon’s chest. They stood there a moment, then Thannon toppled backwards.

Corban screamed, a high wordless thing. He staggered forwards. Then a form swept past him — Gar, a curved sword strapped to his back. He was charging straight for Nathair and Rauca. The eagle-guard saw him and thrust Nathair back into the safety of the shield wall, then raised his sword to meet Gar. The stablemaster dropped beneath Rauca’s weapon, rolled, came up behind him with his sword hissing fluidly into his hands, held high in his two-handed grip. Rauca turned as Gar was bringing his blade down, slashing the guardsman from shoulder to hip, shearing through leather, chain-mail, flesh and bone.

For a long, timeless moment the remaining eagle-guards just stared at Gar, as did Sumur and Nathair.

Sumur took a step forward. ‘It cannot be,’ he whispered.

A hand touched Corban’s uninjured shoulder, his mam standing beside him with the spear he’d left in someone’s ribs in her hand. He felt panic for a moment — she shouldn’t be here — then together they ran to Thannon’s side. Buddai had draped his body alongside his master’s, and was pushing at Thannon’s cheek with his muzzle. He whined as Corban and Gwenith crouched down.

Thannon’s face was ashen, in stark contrast to his livid wounds. Corban squeezed his da’s hand, and looked on helplessly. His mam lifted Thannon’s head onto her lap.

‘Hold on,’ Corban whispered, grimacing at the uselessness of his words. Thannon tried to speak, but only a gargled whisper came out.

‘Please,’ Corban said, stroking his da’s hand. The gap between each breath grew longer, more laboured. Thannon stared back, then he was gone.

Gwenith let out a great racking sob, and clutched her husband’s hand. Corban felt lost and suddenly found it hard to breathe. He looked up to see Nathair watching, and felt a new depth of emotion, a rage, that he’d not experienced before. Nathair returned his gaze.

‘I will kill you,’ Corban said.

‘Bring him to me,’ Nathair demanded, pointing at Corban. His eagle-guards moved, the shield wall splitting.

‘Get the boy out of here,’ Gar snapped, stepping to face the remaining eagle-guards as they moved on him, circling him slowly, hesitantly.

‘But where?’ Gwenith said, still in shock.

‘That way,’ Gar nodded towards the back of the hall, where the feast-hall’s survivors had gathered about Halion and Edana, fighting the last of Evnis’ men.

Gwenith looked but couldn’t move, couldn’t stop the tears.

‘Corban is all that matters,’ Gar hissed. ‘Move. Now.’ He shuffled his feet to close off any approach to Corban and Gwenith.

Gwenith touched Thannon’s face a moment, a goodbye, then she was standing and pulling Corban. He plucked his da’s war-hammer from the smith’s big hands. But Buddai refused to move.

Corban looked to Gar, not wanting to leave his father’s body or the stablemaster.

‘Go, Ban,’ said Gar. ‘I’ll join you soon. Trust me.’

Corban grimaced, but ran with his mam and Storm, the hall strewn with the dead. It was empty now save for Nathair and his eagle-guards circling Gar, and the continuing combat at the far end.

The clash of iron on iron erupted behind them and Corban stopped short, realizing he’d fallen for the stablemaster’s ploy to make him leave. Of course he lied, he’s facing ten men . But he looked back to see Gar fighting more like a shadow than a man — swirling and slipping amongst Nathair’s eagle-guards. Blood sprayed as Gar’s sword swung and slashed in an elaborate, deadly dance. Within moments men were staggering away from the conflict, or fallen, Gar in constant, fluid motion.