by Wayne Mee
A tall Karn came at him from behind but Cynwulf's long pike snaked out and pierced the creature's neck. Erin nodded and turned back to the Lake Warden. "We can outrun 'em, man, but we can't beat 'em! There be too quiffin' many! Her ladyship orders you to break away now!"
"She said that?!", Gildar rasped, parrying a thrust to his middle and slamming his notched shield into the Karn's face.
"Ask her yourself! She be waitin' over yonder!"
Bar Gildar looked quickly back to where Zoean sat in the last boat, then turned and barked out the order to disengage to his second-in-command, Dinn Orthal. Quickly the Nim-Loth began to back away and push off, slashing both lines and hairy black arms that tried to hold them. Grinning, Erin turned to head back to his own boat; then he saw Thorn and Timin.
The little Kirkwean were standing back to back, ringed by four drooling Karns; that many again lay dead at their feet, and several more scrambled to get clear of Thorn's small but lethal blade.
"Cirimoth dag Shard!!!", rang out over the shrieks of iron and pain. Shard's power had once again claimed Thorn.
Karns tripped over themselves to get clear of the little creature with the pulsing long knife; for all knew instinctively that somehow 'Death' walked among them!
Erin raced to their aid, only to have Thorn turn on him, his sky-blue eyes wild and savage. Erin took the blow on The Raven's buckler. Sparks flew as blade met rim, both made from the legendary Twill or 'Black Gold'. Shard bit into the hardened edge and held fast.
"Thorn, t'is me, Erin! The 'Watcher'!!"
A puzzled expression flashed across Thorn's twisted features. Something that might have been a grim smile appeared briefly, only to be washed away by Shard's pulsing glow. Thorn wrenched Shard free, turned, and the killing began again.
Timin, having backed off to one side, was struck in the chest by a flung mace and knocked backwards. Bragi caught him as he fell and, lifting him like a babe, carried him back to the relative safety of their boat. The silent Delgi, Snorn, followed, poised and ready if any foe should dare come near. None did. Cynwulf growled something in his native tongue and nodded towards Thorn.
Erin chanced a hand on his small friend's shoulder, only to be met with a snarl of rage.
"Back, Thorn! We must get back before they swamp us! Their craft be heavier than ours 'n their numbers more!"
Nothing.
Sweat ran down from the Raven's black Circlet and Erin wiped it away with a curse. Then a thought struck him. "TIMIN'S HURT! HE NEEDS YOU!!", he bellowed.
The gore-spattered arm that wielded Shard paused in mid stroke. A look of intense pain washed over Thorn and he would have fallen if not for Erin's quick hand. "It be alright, laddie. I've got you. Let's away now, for Timin's waitin' for you."
Like a puppet with cut strings Thorn allowed himself to be helped back to their boat.
As the six remaining Karn craft kept advancing Mithdar raised his staff and began to chant. The words were low at first, but quickly raised to a fever-pitch. Then he thrust forth his gnarled staff and the sun suddenly vanished from the sky. The wind, which had been only a stiff breeze moments before, gusted and flapped against the sail. But if the wind had risen in the sheltered bay, it was nothing compared to the terrible force that suddenly struck the six larger craft caught still in the open. The placid waters rose up and tossed the laden boats about like leaves in a gale. Several masts split and mail-clad bodies were pitched overboard, sinking like ropeless anchors. Those craft not overturned were soon awash.
Then it was over. The sun came out and the waters returned to a gentle chop, the wind having dropped to a caressing breeze.
Mithdar sank to his knees, utterly exhausted from his ordeal.
Gildar and his Nim-Loth had broken free and were hoisting sail as Erin led the dazed Thorn back on board. Cynwulf and the two Delgii guarded their rear and Kel and Flynn rushed forward to lend a hand. Timin lay propped against some baggage, breathing raggedly but otherwise unhurt, his oversized breastplate having taken most of the damage. Thorn moved woodenly to his side. Zoean leaned on the tiller while Nobert trimmed the sail. The seven surviving Nim-craft were doing the same. Within moments the small fleet was breaking clear of the carnage.
Erin came and stood beside the raven haired princess. Their eyes met and held, and for the second time Zoean felt that strange warmth flowing through her. From the boat on the left Bar Gildar called, but the Nim-Lothian maid was loath to turn away from the tall 'manling' beside her.
At the Lake Warder's third call Erin grinned. "You'd best be answerin' him, darlin' girl, for I told the brave fool that you had great need of him."
Eyes that had just a moment ago held the dewy promise of sweet eternity turned suddenly cold and fierce. She pushed him away and glared up at his smiling face. "I 'have need' of no male! Be he Man or Nim-Loth! And I'll thank you to remember that in the future!" With that she threw back her cascade of coal colored hair and stomped forward.
Erin, covered in blood and gore, tilted the 'Raven's Crown' to a jaunty angle on his head and laughed loudly. Then, turning to face a frowning Gildar, shrugged and took hold of the tiller.
***
Behind them the Karns still fit for battle prepared to do so. Helms scooped water back into the lake while others took up their oars. Orders were barked and the dead and wounded were dumped overboard, for though they had been bested they were not yet ready to give up, despite the fierceness of their foe, the savagery of the strange little 'Stoner' with his biting black blade and the fierce 'magics' of the thrice cursed old wizard! For they all knew that death was far better than returning empty handed to face the entity known as the Hooded Man!
"They still come, Longshanks," Cynwulf said, casually cleaning the black blood from the hooked end of his pike. "And the wind is lessening. They'll be on us soon."
Erin turned his wolf grey eyes on the stony Rif-Dag. "'N what would you be havin' us do, laddie? Turn 'n ram into them one more time? Even those stupid bastards be not THAT stupid! Why, they'd open up and then close in all round!"
Cynwulf raised his warmask and grinned, his white teeth showing through his bushy beard. "But would it not be a grand tale worthy of the singing? T'is a glorious day to die, Longshanks, and no-one lives forever --- not even you."
Erin cast about before answering. "Faith, lad, you be right there, but I have it in my mind to live awhile longer --- if it be only to get you lot home safe 'n sound 'n taste once again that thick swill ye call ale!"
Cynwulf grinned while Bragi and Snorn chuckled to themselves. "Care to place a wee wager on it, Longshanks?", Bragi asked, still grinning from ear to ear.
"What be the odds, Greybeard?"
Bragi stroked his long beard proudly, then drew a pouch of Delgii gold from his belt. "Two to one against the stinking Karns!"
Erin shook his head. "Nay, laddie. T'is a fools bet, for if I win I'll be dead. But I'll give you another. First one to give old Dingle a kiss on the cheek wins, and the looser buys drinks for all!"
"Done and double done!", Bragi roared; "Though it would be worth loosing just to see the look on the Tem Riflin's face when you press that great hairless gob of yours in his direction!"
Their laughter was cut short by Kel's call to look forward. Straining eyes saw yet another fleet of Karn craft bearing down on them --- and standing in the prow of the lead boat was the biggest creature Erin had ever seen.
Flynn moved swiftly to the stern. His face had lost most of it's colour, though he somehow managed to keep his voice calm. "A half-score more come at us --- and they are led by a Grell!"
"'N just what be a 'grell'?!", Erin demanded.
Mithdar answered from his resting place amidship. The words came low and measured, but the strain was still there for those with ears to hear.
"A 'Grell' is one of the most fearsome creatures every to see the light of day. Luckily for the world they are few in number, though one may yet prove more than enough here. They live to kill and are almost unstoppable.
You might have heard them called 'Telus' or even 'Trolls'."
"'Trolls'?!", Erin gasped. "But they be just things out o' old legends!"
Mithdar sighed and, with Kel's help, heaved himself to his feet. "It would seem, friend Erin, that on this particular adventure, we are to see many a 'legend come to life."
***
Chapter 24:'CAST UPON THE WIND'
The creature standing on the prow of the lead boat grunted to himself, shifted the enormous bone necklace he wore so it didn't chafe his short, thick neck, leaned over the side and spit. Behind him the Karns muttered and snarled among themselves, their fear-stink reaching him despite the freshening head-wind. His piggish eyes creased into what passed for a smile and he hefted the heavy club and absently fingered the long, curved animal horn driven through its end."
He knew what they thought of him: 'Club the Crazy'; 'Club the Blood-Drinker'; 'Club the Fool'! Yet even this last did not bother him, for he knew that he was no fool, and he had never cared overmuch for what others thought.
It had always been that way. Even as a young scrawny cub the rest of his kind had shunned him. When he was still small they had laughed at him and made him the butt of their cruel jokes. But then he had gotten bigger; bigger than the biggest of the clan --- even bigger than that savage piece of dog-meat that had sired him!
Club's limited mind swept him back to that long ago time when he stood in the center of their cave, the torchlight flickering, the females screaming and pulling their hair, the males growling and beating their massive chests --- and his own hands closing around the windpipe of his father. How the eyes had bulged. How the pink tongue had swollen and lolled. The 'Power' had surged through him then, more potent than even the pull of the 'Rutting Season'.
And then the body that was both his sire and chief had sagged lifeless to the cave floor, there to lie among the filth and castaway bones. The 'Power' had been with him then, even though he hadn't recognized it for what it truly was --- it had taken the Hooded Man to show him that.
Club blinked his small eyes and once again focused on the present. The pitiful little boats still came on. Nim-boats! How he hated the golden haired 'Nim'! The Hooded Man had been right; THEY were the cause of all his pain; THEY were the reason all other creatures feared him and called him ugly, for the Nim's beauty made all others pale in their reflection, and, seeking something uglier than themselves, all creatures raised themselves up by casting him down!
'Club the Grell', 'Club the Terrible Troll', 'Club the Ugly' they called him --- when deep in his hidden heart he KNEW that he was beautiful!
The silver arm-ring the Hooded Man had given him began to feel cold against his hairy hide. This startled him, for always when the 'Power' came upon him it had felt warm. When in the presence of the Hooded Man it had always glowed hot, causing the ruby eyes of the carven snake's head to burn with a dull fire. The 'Master' had given it to him as a token of affection; a 'talisman' He had called it, something to 'bind us through all eternity'. Club liked to believe that it had been given out of love --- though a part of his small brain knew that this was just wishful thinking.
Still, the 'Master' was to be obeyed at all times, for wasn't it the 'Master' that had given Club's bleeding and mutilated body new life? When the Nar-Graith Skatha had found him near death from fighting the stinking Stoners and brought his ruined remains to the Hooded Man, wasn't it the power of the 'Master' that gave him back his life, only strangely changed? Newer and stronger --- and smarter! Things that had once seemed complicated and beyond his mental reach now appeared simple and basic. Where before he had worried and wondered, now he KNEW! The Hooded Man had done all this; given him a new life, in which the shadows of doubt and fear had vanished, to be replaced by the simple joy of doing his Master's bidding.
And now the Master had bid him do what he did best --- kill the hated 'Nims' and bring back the body of the meddling greybeard. Alive or dead, it mattered not, for the Hooded Man had the 'Power' to use the old fool regardless of the condition of the mortal shell!
And yet the silver snake that wound round his hairy forearm burned not with the fire of his Master's will, but now felt like the cold wind that used to bit his hands and feet when he was a cub far to the north. The silver scales seem frosted over. Steam rose in the hot air round his arm. Fear suddenly reached his startled brain and he would have ripped the frozen thing from his arm and cast it away if a greater fear had not prevented it --- the fear of disappointing the 'Master'."
Then there was no time for fear or doubts or any thinking at all, for the hated Nim were upon them and it was time for the killing to begin!
***
The sun was westering, casting long shadows upon the choppy waters when the two small fleets met. Gildar had issued orders that the boats were to form a wedge, with his craft at the front. With the wind behind them he hoped to force his way through.
It almost worked.
The Karns, over half their number having fallen under the hail of arrows the Nim-Loth rained down on them, almost broke and let them through. But then the huge Troll had screamed out something guttural and leapt into the nearest craft, all but swamping the lighter boat. The horned club he carried took a great toll of the brave Nim-Loth, and though many tried, none could stand before him.
The Karns, spurred on by the success of the great, hairy beast, followed his example and began to leap into the smaller craft; upsetting some, entangling others and spreading red death wherever they went.
From his place in the middle of the tiny fleet, Erin saw the hopelessness of it all. Kel and Flynn sent shaft after shaft into the seething mess, and Thorn and even little Timin used their slings repeatedly, but despite their valiant efforts, the Nim-Loth were being beaten back.
Zoean stood clutching a stay, her slender sword held impotently in her hand, a look of rage filling her gold flecked eyes. Cynwulf and the other two Delgii stood as though turned to stone, silently watching the slaughter that was just out of reach, while Mithdar sat huddled on a seat, exhausted by his summoning of the winds.
Then the Troll was upon them! He had come out of nowhere; a great monster covered with blood and gore. With a backhand cuff he sent old Nobert sprawling into the two Kirkwean, then grabbed up Zoean and made to strike at Erin.
Cynwulf lunged at him from behind. The hooked blade of his pike sank deep into the hair covered back --- with no effect at all.
Turning, the long pike was wrenched free and Cynwulf stood as one in a trance. Never before had anyone ever been able to resist 'Gutter's searing caress'! Bragi just managed to pull the Rif-Dag back as the Troll's heavy club swished by. Erin, seeing his chance, aimed a two-handed blow at the monster's thick neck. The light boat however, shifted, throwing his aim was off, causing Glenrig to strike the creature's bronze helm and doing no more damage than shearing off a long, pointed ear. Club bellowed and flung Zoean from him, his meaty paws bringing up the spiked weapon for the final blow.
It was then that the two arrows hit him; Flynn's in the throat and Kel's in the left eye. The Troll staggered backwards, yanked the puny sticks from him and, now half blinded --- slowly began to advance.
For the first time in his life Erin felt sure he was going to die. As the abomination shuffled towards him, time seemed to suddenly slow. The screaming and clashing of steel faded, as 'Death' slid slowly towards him like a towering mountain.
Then something snapped inside and Erin's ashen features twisted into a crooked grin. "Come on then, you black-hearted bastard!" he yelled. "Do your bloody worst!"
Shortening his grip on Glenrig, Erin slashed twice at the towering creatures stomach. Wide vents opened up in the thick, hairy skin. Club backed up, smeared the welling blood over his massive chest and kept on coming."
Zoean, having been cast aside like a sack of unwanted flour, scrambled to her knees, pulled the light throwing axe from her belt and brought it down with all the strength she could muster on the monster's sandled foot. The keen blade sliced through two o
f the creature's four toes and stuck in the boat's floorboards.
Pain worked its way up to the limited brain and registered in the one piggish eye that still functioned. Slowly the giant, dipping blood, gore and glistening intestines, looked down at Zoean. As the creature raised his spiked cub, Erin saw his chance and swung. Glenrig, made from the legendary Twill of Wee'ns 'Black Gold', cleaved the jawbone, the neckbone and the backbone with one swift swing. The head went over one side of the boat and the gore spouting trunk followed on the other. The inky black waters of the Tarn closed over the headless Grell and it was instantly gone from sight ---- though most there would not forget the gruesome sight till their dying day.
The tall 'manling' grabbed Zoean and hauled her to her feet. He felt the warmth from her nearness and noticed how she was trembling. "It's savin' my poor life you've done, lass, 'n I'll not be forgettin' it!"
Wide, startled eyes looked up into dark grey ones. Then, as though drawn by some invisible loadstone, they seemed about to embrace when the moment was suddenly broken by a loud cry.
"Gildar's broken through! The way is clear!"
Erin tore himself away from Zoean and looked about. Sure enough, Bar Gildar and several boats had broken through the Karn blockade! Other Nim craft were swiftly following, but the enraged Karns were quickly closing the gap."
"Stand by to come about!", Erin bellowed, and swung the tiller hard to the right. "We'll make for that island yonder! Once behind it we should be able to outrun the bastards!"
"We could also lose the others, Longshanks", Cynwulf put in. "In this accursed swamp one byway looks the same as another!"
"Better lost 'n alive than goin' up against those quiffers on our own! Look you friend, even now the gap be closed!"
All saw that Erin was right; that they were cut off from the main group and that their only hope was to skirt around the large island to the left and try to lose the Karns and rejoin Gildar's little fleet further on.
