And then a squawking streak of feathers, beak and talon was hurtling into Gulla’s face, Rab scratching, pecking, gouging with beak and claw.
Gulla dropped Sig and reeled away, Rab furiously battering at the Kadoshim, raining insults upon him as well as pain. Gulla’s hands grabbed at the white crow, but Rab flapped away, something slimy hanging from its beak, Gulla screaming, a hand over one eye, blood leaking through his fingers and he stumbled into the shadows. An acolyte moved on Sig as she swept her sword from the ground, a spear stabbing at her heart, but a mass of fur and muscle slammed into the acolyte – Fen, taking advantage of the hole Hammer had smashed through the wall. The hound’s jaws clamped around the acolyte’s throat as they both tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. As they rolled to a stop, Fen stood upon the corpse of her victim, raised his head and howled.
Sig heard Hammer cry out in pain. She stumbled after the sound, through a tableau of destruction, buildings flattened, half-torn down, beams and detritus everywhere.
The two bears were tearing at each other with tooth and claw, Hammer looking much better on that account because of her chainmail coat, though it was torn to strips in places. The other bear was dragging one front leg, its head hanging, spittle and blood dripping, though its spirit was strong and it lifted its head to bite at Hammer’s neck. What had caused Hammer’s cry of pain was the giant upon the other bear’s back as it leaned in its saddle and swung its war-hammer at Hammer’s head. She shifted her weight, seeing the blow coming, so that it skimmed her shoulder instead, but there was still power in the blow, and Hammer was battered and bruised, weakening. Slow.
The giant raised its war-hammer high, over its head.
Sig swept up a splintered shard of wood, long as a spear and drew her arm back to throw. Aimed, her arm snapping forwards.
The giant’s bear moved, shifting him from the shadows into red-flame light.
It was Gunil.
It cannot be!
But it was, unmistakably. His dark hair, opposite to Varan, his brother, his flat nose from the pugil ring.
The splintered wood left her hand, flying unerringly towards the giant. Towards Gunil, her friend and lover, whom she had thought dead for sixteen years. The makeshift spear hit him high, in the chest or shoulder, Sig could not tell, only knew that he was hurled from his saddle in a spray of blood, disappearing behind the bear into billowing clouds of smoke.
Sig took a step towards him.
‘SIG!’ Keld, screaming for her to come. He was gesturing wildly at her, standing outside the encampment, just beyond the hole in the wall Hammer had made. Cullen and Drem were with him, darkness and freedom beyond, waiting for her. For a few moments they had a chance to escape, acolytes scattered by Hammer, Fen and the others, Gulla and his spawn nowhere to be seen.
Sig looked back to where Gunil had disappeared, no sign of him amongst the smoke and flame, saw his bear stumble and fall before Hammer’s clawed blows.
‘HAMMER,’ Sig yelled, ‘TO ME,’ and she began to run, back towards Keld and the others, to freedom. The bear took one last contemptuous look at its cowed foe, then turned and ran after Sig, outpacing her, converging on the hole in the wall.
A figure stepped out in front of Sig, wreathed in smoke and flame, a black sword in her hand.
Fritha, Drem called you.
Sig ran at her, raised her sword, not breaking her stride. Swung.
Fritha moved faster than Sig would have thought possible, twisting away, ducking down, beneath Sig’s sword-swing, pivoting around Sig as she hurtled past.
Ah, well, it’s time to go. We’ll be back with Byrne and a thousand Bright Stars for that sword.
Something slammed into the back of her leg, high, felt like a punch.
She ran on.
In front of her Keld’s mouth opened, his face twisting. Cullen shouted something. Sig couldn’t quite tell what, as her ears were ringing. She felt weak, suddenly, so very tired. Stumbled, used her sword to stay upright, ran on, or tried, her right leg feeling heavy, not doing what she was telling it. She looked down as she stumbled on, saw her leg was drenched with dark blood.
My blood.
She could feel the strength leaking from her, stumbled on a dozen paces and fell into Keld and Drem’s arms as they ran to her, meeting her in the gap in the shattered wall, only a timber post remaining. The two of them could barely hold Sig up, lowered her gently to the ground. Cullen tore strips from his cloak, tied them high about her thigh, took a sheathed dagger to twist within the knot, a field tourniquet. Keld crouched to look at the wound, his face telling Sig everything.
She knew, anyway. To bleed like that, the shock she could feel tremoring through her body already, it was one of the killpoints, the artery in the groin.
I’m bleeding out. Nothing will stop it. Haven’t got long.
Hammer’s scarred head appeared, muzzle sniffing Sig’s face, nudging her to get up.
‘Not this time, my old friend,’ Sig said, tugging on the fur of Hammer’s cheeks.
‘Go,’ she said to Keld, Cullen and Drem. ‘You must get back to Dun Seren, tell Byrne.’
‘There’s no way in all the seven hells of the Otherworld that we’re leaving you here,’ Cullen said.
‘I’m dead, boy,’ Sig snarled, a wave of dizziness rocking her. ‘You’ll not give your life for someone that’s already dead.’
‘No.’ Cullen shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. ‘No.’ A denial, not a refusal. Keld just stood, head bowed. Drem looked as if his world had just ended.
‘Dun Seren. It’s an order. Hammer can take you all. She’s your only chance.’
Shouts and yells from acolytes and Ferals as they gathered, the beat of wings, a spear hissing down at them, Cullen chopping it from the sky.
Sig dragged herself to the timber post, began pulling herself up.
She did not look at her friends, but felt hands helping her regain her feet. It was Drem. ‘Unbuckle my sword-belt,’ she said to him, and he did without question. She threaded it around the post and wrapped it around her waist, cinched it tight.
‘Buckle me up,’ she asked, and Cullen did.
‘Sword.’
Keld put it in her hand.
‘Now get out of here,’ she said to them, patted Cullen’s cheek and brushed fingertips across Keld’s face. He looked as if he planned on disobeying her last order.
‘They need you,’ she said, a whisper. ‘I’m trusting in you, my friend.’
Tears filled Keld’s eyes and he swatted them away. A twist of his lips as he nodded. Sig squeezed Drem’s hand, then she turned to face the oncoming enemy, her body all but filling the remaining gap.
The rustle of wings, and Rab alighted upon Sig’s shoulder.
‘Poor Sig,’ Rab said. The crow ran a bloodstained beak through Sig’s hair.
‘Brave Rab,’ Sig said. ‘Guide them home. Make sure Byrne hears of this.’
Rab croaked mournfully.
The scuff of boots climbing Hammer.
‘Sig,’ Keld called down to her from the bear’s back, and she looked back at them, her vision swimming.
‘We shall never forget,’ he said, clenching a fist over his heart.