It is good they know, and good that they are unafraid. Although a bit of fear would have been helpful.
“Indeed so,” he replied. “He is with us now, watching. Jerrod!”
The werewolf appeared from the undergrowth only a few yards to Turine’s left. Sulla saw with satisfaction the fear grow on her face as she fumbled with her runes. Behind him, Behemoth’s horse neighed.
If he had been in earnest, she would be dead by now.
“No surprises, Sulla,” Behemoth shouted. “We haven’t any for you. Straven thinks you are too valued a customer to lose, so he isn’t playing you false.”
Sulla laughed.
“I would be a fool to trust his word wouldn’t I?” He turned serious. “And would any of you really follow a fool?”
Their silence gave him his answer.
“Very well,” he said, “let us begin while we still have the daylight.”
* * *
Jerrod had scouted the lumberyard for a second time. When he came back, Sulla breathed in relief.
I am vulnerable without him. And they fear him, even though they hide it well.
“She is there, Sulla,” Jerrod said. “Hiding in the eastern end of the warehouse”
“It’s a fitting place for her to make her lair,” Behemoth said. “This place is rarely used, for rumours say it’s haunted.”
“It is,” the Mad Axe grinned. “By her.”
The wooden building was large and silent. It looked close to ruin, and the fading afternoon sun contrasted the deep shadows eerily. Gaping holes appeared among its slatted sides, big enough for a man to squeeze through. The roof was little better.
“What if she chooses to run, rather than fight?” Turine asked. “Can we catch her?”
“Can you fly mage?” Sulla spat back. “Now, let’s get ourselves ready.”
Mergil stripped off his surcoat and fastened a leather-studded jacket across his chest. He made certain his sword drew freely in his scabbard, and then he picked several potions from his saddlebags, slotting them into custom-made leather rings in his belt. Both the Mad Axe and Behemoth downed a small vial each of yellow potion, chinking their glasses together as if in celebration and grimacing from the taste. The Mad Axe, Sulla noted, had two weighted bolos on his belt that held his chain mail against his bulging stomach.
Behemoth loosened his whip.
“Surely we want to take her alive?” Mergil suggested, his hand holding a glass bottle in which a green fog swirled. “If I break this near her, it should be enough to put her to sleep.”
Sulla saw Jerrod curl his lip and shake his head.
“Too much of a risk,” he said.
“Hmm. I’ll try it anyhow. The reward for a living prisoner is far greater.”
Turine nodded and examined her runes.
“If we try to take her alive, then I will snare her with my magic. That should give you time, Mergil. You know how we do it.”
The mercenaries nodded as one, and Jerrod looked to Sulla again.
“Very well, then,” Sulla said. “Jerrod will lead us in.”
The werewolf moved in absolute silence, guiding them west. They passed through a hole in the low wooden stockade that surrounded the lumberyard, and sprinted quickly across the open ground. The rest followed.
“Is everyone ready?” Sulla hissed as they entered the building through a rotted door. In the shadows, the mercenaries nodded, and he was just able to make out their movements.
A fitting place for a winged-ghoul to live, he noted. And me with two stumps instead of hands, completely unarmed. Strange that I don’t feel afraid.
“I can hear her,” Jerrod whispered. “She in the eastern end of the building.”
“Then we must spread out,” Sulla ordered, and he turned to the dwarf. “Go forward to draw her out, then we can come in to support you.”
The dwarf faced Sulla in the darkness, but he couldn’t make out his expression.
No doubt it is an ugly one, though.
“I will go,” he replied grimly, “if Jerrod comes with me. We can both see in the dark better than the rest of you.”
For a moment Jerrod didn’t reply. Then, when he did, Sulla knew he had made the change into his wolf form.
“Very well,” he growled.
Then they were gone, merging into the shadows ahead, impossible for Sulla to see with his single functioning eye.
“We should go forward, to close the gap,” Behemoth advised. Without waiting for an answer, the big man followed, and was swallowed by the shadows.
Dividing us nicely. Idiot!
He started forward himself, aware of Mergil and Turine beside him. His foot banged a crate, loud in the darkness, and his heart jumped. He felt the sweat erupt on his brow.
Scared of a jiggling crate! How Kara-Meir would laugh.
The fear had him now. He was afraid of the dark. He wore no armour and he carried no weapon, and not for the first time that vulnerability haunted him without mercy.
Yet I had to come in with them. To make sure it goes right.
He took another deep breath when the Mad Axe screamed from ahead of them. He heard Jerrod howl, and then something inhuman gave a loud wail, sapping his will and making him stagger. His legs were close to buckling when he heard Jerrod roar.
Turine ran forward, followed by Mergil. The poisoner flicked the thick cover off his lantern and the shadows gave way to a sickly light.
Behemoth lay on the ground, unmoving. Sulla saw his face covered in blood and then, as Mergil moved and the light swayed, the face vanished in shadow. Now the lantern swung upward, to illuminate the combat.
Jerrod was fastened upon the thing’s back, crushing her wings to her sides with his powerful arms, his jaws biting at her shoulder and head, ripping and tearing. As she staggered, Sulla caught sight of her for the first time, the shining orange eyes and her wide nose above the long mouth tipped with fangs.
She leapt backward and Jerrod’s grip broke.
Quickly she turned and scraped her talons across his face.
“Your runes, Turine! Now!” Sulla shouted as the Mad Axe charged in. The dwarf screamed in his native tongue and his axe arced forward. In the light Sulla saw the Wyrd’s right hand fly clear of her wrist, black blood spraying the yellow sawdust at her feet.
Turine held out her hand as the Wyrd screamed. Sulla felt the air at his side compact as the sound of a dense and invisible object flew past him. The Wyrd doubled over suddenly as the magic wind slammed into her stomach, forcing her to her knees.
“Snare her!” Mergil shouted as the lantern moved and the scene was briefly lost in shadow. It returned when Mergil placed it on the floor, and Sulla saw that Behemoth had moved his arm.
So he’s alive then. That’s a shame. He’s the most troublesome of them all.
Perhaps I can stamp on his throat and crush the life out of him.
Before he could move, Mergil entered the fray, hefting his green fogged bottle. The Mad Axe thrust his weapon forward again, and Sulla saw that he meant to distract their target while the poisoner readied himself.
But then Turine stepped sideways. The light was blocked off, and when it returned Behemoth was standing.
The Wyrd can’t win now. Not with Jerrod at her back and these three before her.
He dared a smile.
But then his smile vanished.
The hulking form of Behemoth seized Mergil by the throat. Turine screamed in anger, shouting at him to move, but instead Mergil’s body went limp and he dropped the bottle at the Mad Axe’s feet.
It broke and the green fog spread out. The Mad Axe gave a gasp as his weapon fell from his hands. He staggered and then dropped to his knees before collapsing face down into the sawdust.
Then Behemoth turned to face him. Behind, Jerrod leapt once more upon the Wyrd and Sulla saw them fall to the ground.