At that moment there came a strangled cry of pure agony from behind them. Harad swung round. The old man, Gamal, was writhing on the ground. His body spasmed, and there was blood upon his lips.
Charis ran to him, kneeling by his side. Gamal’s face was a mask of agony. ‘The swords!’ he groaned.
‘Skilgannon!’ Then he screamed in pain. His body convulsed, and more blood sprayed from his mouth as he cried out.
‘Help me, Harad!’ pleaded Charis.
The axeman knelt down beside Gamal. The old man sagged unconscious into Harad’s arms, and was lowered gently to the floor.
Charis held her fingers to Gamal’s throat. The pulse flickered briefly for a few moments, then stopped.
Charis sighed, and a tear fell to her cheek. ‘I liked him,’ she said.
She began to weep and Harad sat close to her, his huge arm round her shoulder. He knew a touch of guilt, for, despite her distress, Harad himself felt content. In fact more content than at any time he could remember. The woman he loved was nestled close to him. He could feel her warmth, and smell the scent of her hair. The moment was blissful. For the first time in days the glittering axe was forgotten. All that mattered was that he comforted the woman in his arms.
Charis relaxed, her head against his chest. ‘He was a kindly old man,’ she said. ‘It was so cruel to hunt him in this way.’
Harad said nothing. The old man had been one of the lords, one of the creators of beasts. Harad had little sympathy for his passing.
‘I am so glad you are here, Harad.’
‘Where else would I be?’
Charis sighed and moved back a little from him. She leaned in and closed the dead man’s eyes. ‘Your friend is still asleep. Should we wake him?’
‘He said not to.’ A sense of emptiness touched Harad as Charis drew away from him. A flicker of anger replaced it. Then she smiled at him, and the anger melted away.
‘Where did you find that big axe?’
‘It was a gift,’ he told her.
‘It is a horrible weapon.’ She shuddered. ‘Why do we need such things?’
‘What sort of question is that?’ he responded. ‘Without the axe I would have been killed. Then I couldn’t have been here to help you.’
‘I meant why do people want to make such weapons. Why do we fight each other?’
‘I don’t know. I never know the answers to the questions you ask. Everything is so complicated when you are around. It makes my head swim.’ Yet there was no irritation now. Harad wondered if there ever would be again. He gazed at her face. She had never been more beautiful.
‘I’m really frightened, Harad,’ she said suddenly. ‘All I’ve wanted for the last two years is for us to be together. Now we are. And people are trying to kill us.’
His pale eyes glittered. ‘No-one is going to kill you, Charis. They’d have to get past me. I may not be handsome, and I’m not a great thinker, but I am a fighter. Ten days ago that was not a virtue. Now it is.
We’ll get away from here. We’ll find a place. With the Legend people, maybe, to the north. Or high in the mountains, away from Jems and armies.’
Askari came running over the lip of the rock shelf. ‘They are closing in,’ she said. ‘Around twenty riders and four Jems. Not seen their kind before. They move on four legs, like hounds, but they are big.
Almost as big as ponies.’ She glanced at the dead man, then at Skilgannon. ‘Best wake him,’ she said.
Harad leaned over and shook Skilgannon. There was no response.
Charis touched his face. ‘The skin is cold,’ she whispered. ‘I think he’s dead.’
Askari knelt on the other side of Skilgannon and shook him roughly. Charis touched his throat. ‘There is a heartbeat,’ she said. ‘It is very faint.’
The sound of a distant howl came to them. Charis shivered. ‘Doesn’t sound like a wolf,’ she said. ‘It makes the blood run cold.’
‘Wait till you see them,’ said Askari. ‘Your blood will turn to ice!’ She shook Skilgannon again. ‘We have to get away from here,’ she told Harad. ‘Can you carry him?’
Harad grabbed Skilgannon’s arm and hauled him upright. Askari ran to the edge of the rock shelf.
‘Too late,’ she called back. ‘The beasts are coming.’
Harad laid Skilgannon down, then took up Snaga and moved out into the moonlight. He followed Askari for some fifty paces to the edge of the slope.
Four huge beasts were bounding up the trail.
Askari notched an arrow to her bow.
The grotesque hounds came rushing up the hillside. Harad had once seen a lion in the high country, but these creatures were far bigger. For the first time in his life he knew fear. Not for himself, but because Charis was behind him, and if the beasts got past him, she would be torn to pieces. The fear was replaced by a sudden blazing fury. These creatures were threatening the woman he loved. He hefted the axe and waited. Askari let fly. The shaft flashed through the air, thudding into the chest of the first beast.
It howled in pain and swerved, but then came on. A second arrow plunged into its gaping maw. Its jaws snapped shut, snapping the shaft. Then it continued its run.
Harad leapt out to meet the charge. Snaga hammered into the beast with terrible force, half severing the head. Harad wrenched it clear. A second creature leapt at him. A shaft plunged into its side. Snaga clove into the jaws, splitting the skull. A third Jiamad leapt over Harad as he killed the second beast, and ran on towards the cave. The fourth stumbled and fell as a shaft from Askari tore into its throat.
Harad turned back towards where he had left Charis. The last beast had almost reached the campsite.
Harad could never make it in time. He ran up the hill as fast as he could. As he came over the lip of the rock he saw the beast sprawled on the ground. Skilgannon was standing there, the Swords of Night and Day in his hands.
Without a word to the swordsman Harad ran to the campsite beyond. Charis was standing in the shadows. Dropping the axe he swept her into his arms, holding her close. Then he let out a sigh of pure relief, and turned to Skilgannon. ‘Thank the Source you woke in time,’ he said.
Skilgannon merely nodded. Harad saw that he looked exhausted. Releasing Charis, he moved to the swordsman. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Weak,’ said Skilgannon. He staggered and almost fell.
Harad caught him. ‘Rest a moment,’ he said.
‘No time for that,’ said Askari, running into the camp. ‘The riders are already in sight. We need to get higher into the tree line.’
Skilgannon sheathed his swords, then swung to Charis. ‘You saved me,’ he said. ‘I would have died there.’
Then he followed Askari out into the open. Harad took Charis by the hand and they moved after the huntress and the swordsman. The twenty riders were still some way distant. Harad glanced up at the tree line. It was at least a half a mile away. Skilgannon and Askari were already running. Harad and Charis followed them. Skilgannon stumbled twice, then fell to his knees. Harad hauled him to his feet, then ducked down and lifted the exhausted swordsman onto his shoulders. Then he ran again. Charis and Askari were far ahead, but Harad pounded on. The slope was steep, and there was scree underfoot.
Even Harad’s great strength began to fail. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he forced himself on. He could hear the pounding of hooves getting closer. An arrow sang past him, and he heard a horse whinny in pain.
Then he was into the trees. Askari sent another shaft down into the riders. It sank into the shoulder of a bearded horseman. The other soldiers hauled on their reins and turned their mounts, riding back down the slope.
Harad laid Skilgannon down. The man was unconscious again, but breathing normally. Charis came alongside, and felt his pulse. ‘He’s just sleeping now,’ she said. ‘When I woke him he could barely stand.