Markus Heitz - The Revenge of the Dwarves

Her dwarf mentor was whacking a monster on the paw with his crow’s beak, and ramming his own sharp helmet into its abdomen, so that black blood streamed down over his head and shoulders. “Slit him open. Top part of his belly. It’s only a little while since he swallowed it.” Hopping back to avoid a spear thrust, he sliced the head off his assailant.

Goda drew her dagger and forced the body into a sitting position, hauling it off the spikes. The hole in the magister’s chest would not be big enough so she was just placing the knife tip underneath his ribs when he opened his eyes.

“I won’t give it up,” he croaked, blood gushing out of his mouth, dripping down his chin. “I shall have my revenge.” He pushed her and she lost her balance.

She fell.

T ungdil stormed into the darkness of the chasm where light was afraid to go.

In front of him reared up a being beyond the wit of Tion to create. It would have needed gods such as Girdlegard had never known.

The kordrion was a vast tower of horror. Its wings were folded close in to its huge muscular body, for there was no space in this ravine for the mountainous creature to spread them. Four huge dog-like paws bore its stupendous weight, though the front two limbs seemed more like arms. The rest of its naked body lay in shadow.

Its neck was comparatively short and it had a head like a dragon, but festooned with horns and spikes. Behind the long bony snout glinted four gray eyes. Further back, two blue ones. It was half upright and struggling to place its claws into fissures in the rock to drag itself up.

A three-armed beast leaped shrieking toward Tungdil, long muzzle agape, with a dark red barbed tongue snaking out.

The dwarf confronted that tongue quite simply by holding up Bloodthirster, whose wicked cutting edge sliced the flesh, sending the creature whimpering back, its bleeding tongue segments recoiled into its maw.

But Tungdil followed through, cutting the monster in two from top to bottom. Then he turned Bloodthirster on the kordrion. “Get back in the abyss you crawled out of,” he commanded. “I don’t believe anything is insuperable, whether my opponents look like you or even worse.”

The creature’s blue eyes focused on him. It dropped down onto its forepaws, but this still meant that its head hovered a good ten paces above Tungdil. It opened its powerful jaws and roared at the dwarf. Each and every tooth in its head was as big as one ubariu standing on top of a second.

From behind he heard the rattle and clash of weapons and armor, and then Flagur stood at his back with his ubariu and undergroundlings. With the aid of their armored vehicles they had managed to defeat the beasts and had stopped up the entrance. The kordrion was making things easy for them now because none of the other monsters still in the ravine dared force their way past it.

“Ubar, help us now,” was Flagur’s prayer. “How can we deal with this one?”

“I can see the acrontas might be needed for a monster like this.” Tungdil experienced no fear. With Bloodthirster in his grasp he was a bundle of confidence, tenacity and cussedness. “But if we don’t make a start we’ll never know if it can be done without them.” He raced forwards, aiming for the claws which were now down on the rocky floor. “While he’s stuck in this cleft we have the advantage. Cut through the tendons-hack at anything you can reach. Sooner or later we’ll have him down!”

Flagur watched the dwarf go. “He’s not afraid at all,” he murmured admiringly as he lifted his own spear. Shaft and banner fabric were now drenched in the blood of monsters he had slain. “Onwards!” he called out, and cantered off, his breath shallow as he battled with the wound in his side.

His warriors followed him and rushed toward the kordrion with weapons held high-until they heard the infamous roar. But it was not the being in front of them that made the horrendous sound.

Flagur’s steps slackened and the blood froze in his veins. The ecstasy of battle dispersed and gave way to fear. “Tungdil! Come back! There are two of them!”

Then the kordrion opened its great muzzle and swept the warriors with a wave of white fire.

W ith enormous presence of mind Goda managed to hook her leg over one of the bars. She pulled herself up again, panting hard. She could never have imagined herself capable of these acrobatic tours de force . All that exercise, all those drills, all that training with heaving and hauling-it was all paying off now. She would never complain again about the harshness of that regime.

Ropes with grappling hooks flew past her, fastening themselves to the bars. Some of the monsters were attempting to demolish the artifact, while their comrades, at risk to their own lives, tried to provide cover from attacks by Ireheart and Sirka.

“Faster!” Boindil called up to her. He knew what was making him feel giddy; the woman’s dagger had been coated with poison and it was starting to work.

Goda crawled over to Furgas. “You did not get rid of me.”

He drew a rattling breath and drew out his dagger. “And you have not killed me.”

“I’m going to make up for that.” She avoided his lunge, grabbed his useless arm and removed the knife. It was easy for her now to overcome the fatally wounded Furgas and to ram his own dagger into his body. The man gave one final groan and died.

Now she was faced with the part of her task she was not happy about. She fumbled around in the magister’s warm vitals until she found the hard object she was searching for.

“I have it!” she yelled triumphantly, to boost the morale of the defenders below. She cut the diamond out, then gave the corpse a shove so it plummeted to the ground.

Goda did not bother to clean the stone but pressed it, filthy though it was, into the setting, then closed the four fastenings. She stared at the stone. “Come on now! Do something!” She rubbed it to make it work.

A new roar sounded from the chasm and a wall of white fire shot out of the cleft, surging across the ground. The burning bodies of ubariu and undergroundlings were hurled through the air before slamming into the cliff face and extinguishing like sparks. The armored vehicle that was nearest was consumed with fire so that the iron plating peeled off and the wooden frame beneath turned to ash.

The kordrion pushed itself out into the light. With a louder roar than ever, which broke whole boulders off, it forced its way free and was approaching on all fours. It gave another roar of victory as it left the darkness of the abyss. Goda couldn’t gauge its size accurately. Twenty paces high and sixty paces long?

The army ran back from the chasm’s edge, overwhelmed by horror…

The kordrion reared up and unfolded its pale wings. The world grew dark, as if a cloud had covered the sun.

“Goda!” yelled Ireheart, as he felled his last opponent by slamming into its ribcage. Ribs broke puncturing heart and innards. The three of them, he, Sirka and Rodario, had managed to prevent the destruction of the artifact. “We’re waiting!” His legs gave way and he collapsed, sinking down onto the body of his victim. His sight was going, colors swimming together confusedly.

Sirka stared at the huge pale mass of the kordrion. “Tungdil,” she whispered in horror, grasping the fact that her companion could not have survived. That white fire melted stone and steel.

“He’ll be OK,” said Ireheart, fighting the effects of the poison and rallying. “The scholar always survives. He is a friend of the gods.” But his face too darkened in concern. A monster like this had never been seen before. It was trampling the ubariu and undergroundlings, sending out another plume of white fire, killing five hundred fighters at one stroke. The last of the armed vehicles was overturned and burnt. Nothing remained but a glowing hulk. The kordrion was growing stronger with every moment it was able to spend outside its prison-gorge.