As did the wronk he had become, remade in this new image, in this monstrous form, in this horrific fusing of metal and flesh.
Another of the Rindge went down, bloodied and broken, torn open from neck to crotch. Obat and the remaining Rindge turned and fled. Quentin’s tiny band sagged back before the wronk’s fresh onslaught. Despair clouded their faces and drained them of their strength. But then they got lucky. Pressing its attack, the wronk got tangled up in the body of a dead Rindge, lost its footing, and went down. It was up almost instantly, but a broken limb of the dead man was lodged between its joints. In the few moments it took the wronk to free itself, Quentin and his companions broke off their seemingly hopeless struggle and raced after the fleeing Rindge. Whatever was needed to win their battle, it would first require a plan. Just then, it was best just to get away.
Sheathing their weapons on the fly, they raced back into the trees. Obat slowed to let them catch up, shouting something at Panax, who shouted back; then all of them disappeared into the trees. In seconds, they could no longer see the ruins. They ran a long time. Others of the Rindge joined them, all of them breathing hard, bathed in sweat, riddled with fear. Quentin felt the magic of his sword subside, a red haze fading into twinges of emptiness and unfulfilled need, a mix of emotions that tore at him like brambles. He was burned out and chilled through all at once, and part of him wanted to go back into battle while the other wanted only to escape.
He did not know how long they ran or even how far. They were well away from the ruins before they staggered to a halt, a forlorn and dejected band. They knelt in the fading afternoon light, heads lowered in exhaustion, listening through ragged gasps for the sounds of pursuit. Quentin glanced at Tamis, and his emotions coalesced into an overwhelming feeling of shame. Their effort had failed utterly. They were no better off than they had been when they started out-worse off, perhaps, because now they knew the fate of at least one of their missing companions and maybe of the rest, as well.
Tamis glared back at him. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Don’t look at me!” she snapped.
Obat spoke to one of the Rindge, and the man rose and started back toward the ruins-looking to see if the thing they had fled was still following them, Quentin thought.
Panax eased over to him, gruff face flushed and angry. “What sort of monster would do that to a man?” he growled. “Make him into a machine out of bits and pieces of himself?”
“Another machine, maybe,” Quentin offered wearily. “A better question might be why?”
Panax shook his head. “There’s no sense to it.”
“There’s sense to everything, even if we don’t understand what it is.” Quentin was thinking about the wronk’s eyes, Ard Patrinell’s eyes. “There’s a reason Antrax uses wronks. There’s a reason for this one. Did you see how it fought us? Did you watch it respond to our attacks? It has Ard Patrinell’s memories, Panax. It’s using his skills and tactics. It knows how to fight the same way he did.”
The Rindge who had been dispatched by Obat returned on the run, speaking hurriedly to the subchief, who in turn spoke to Panax. The Dwarf came to his feet at once.
“Let’s go! It’s right behind us!”
They climbed to their feet and continued on quickly, Obat in the lead, choosing an unobstructed path that allowed them to move swiftly; their best chance lay in outrunning their pursuer. Once or twice, Quentin glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing to see. He did not doubt for a moment that the wronk was following, untiring and implacable, determined to pursue them until they were run to ground. The Highlander was already feeling twinges of doubt over whether they could escape it. But to stand and fight would be a mistake. The wronk was bigger and stronger. Its armor gave it better protection. It possessed Ard Patrinell’s fighting instincts and skills. Perhaps if there were more of the Rindge, if they could reach the village and summon others to their aid, they might stand a chance. Otherwise, even with the magic of the Sword of Leah to aid them, he wasn’t sure they would prevail.