‘Foolish,’ said the leader, contemptuously, ‘like lambs to the slaughter!’ The Dark Templars advanced.
Tenaka struggled to overcome his panic, but his limbs felt leaden as his confidence drained away. He knew dark magic was being used against him, but the knowledge was not enough. He felt like a child stalked by a leopard.
Fight it! he told himself. Where is your courage?
Suddenly, as in his dream, the terror passed and strength flowed to his limbs. He knew without turning that the white knights had returned, this time in the flesh.
The Templars halted their advance and Padaxes cursed softly as The Thirty moved into sight. Outnumbered now, he considered his options. Calling on the power of the Spirit, he probed his enemies, meeting a wall of force that resisted his efforts . . . Except around the warrior at the centre – this man was no mystic. Padaxes was no stranger to the legends of The Thirty – his own temples had been built to parody theirs – and he recognised the rune on the man’s helm.
A non-mystic as leader? An idea formed in his mind.
‘Much blood will be shed here today,’ he called, ‘unless we settle this as captains.’
Abaddon grasped Decado’s arm as he moved forward. ‘No, Decado, you do not understand his power.’
‘He is a man, that is all,’ answered the other.
‘No, he is far more – he has the power of Chaos. If someone must fight him, let it be Acuas.’
‘Am I not leader in this force of yours?’
‘Yes, but . . .’
‘There are no buts. Obey me!’ Pulling himself free Decado moved on, halting a few feet away from the black-armoured Padaxes.
‘What do you suggest, Templar?’
‘A duel between captains, the loser’s men leaving the field.’
‘I want more,’ said Decado coldly. ‘Far more!’
‘Name it.’
‘I have studied much of the ways of mystics. It is … was . . . part of my former calling. It is said that in ancient wars champions carried the souls of their armies within them, and when they died their armies died.’
‘That is so,’ said Padaxes, disguising his joy.
‘Then that is what I demand.’
‘It shall be so. I swear it by the Spirit!’
‘Swear nothing to me, warrior. Your oaths count for nothing. Prove it!’
‘It will take a little time. I shall conduct the rites first and trust your word that you will follow,’ said Padaxes. Decado nodded and walked back to the others.
‘You cannot do this thing, Decado,’ said Acuas. ‘You doom us all!’
‘Suddenly the game is not to your liking?’ snapped Decado.
‘It is not that. This man, your enemy, has powers you do not possess. He can read your mind, sense your every move before you make it. How on earth can you defeat him?’
Decado laughed. ‘Am I still your leader?’
Acuas flicked a glance at the former Abbot. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you are the leader.’
‘Then when he has finished his ritual, you will align the life force of The Thirty to mine.’
‘Tell me this before I die,’ said Acuas gently. ‘Why are you sacrificing yourself in this way? Why do you doom your friends?’
Decado shrugged. ‘Who can say?’
The Dark Templars fell to their knees before Padaxes as he intoned the names of the lower demons, calling on the Chaos Spirit, his voice rising to a scream. The sun breasted the eastern horizon, yet strangely no light fell upon the plain.
‘It is done,’ whispered Abaddon. ‘He has kept his word and the souls of his warriors are within him.’
‘Then do likewise,’ ordered Decado.
The Thirty knelt before their leader, heads bowed. Decado felt nothing, yet he knew they had obeyed him.
‘Dec, is it you?’ called Ananais. Decado waved him to silence and advanced to meet Padaxes.
The black sword hissed forward, to be parried instantly by the silver steel in Decado’s hand. The battle had begun. Tenaka and his companions watched in awe as the warriors circled and struck, blades clashing and clanging.
Time wore on and desperation became apparent in every move Padaxes made. Fear crept into his heart. Though he anticipated his opponent’s every move, such was the speed of the assault that it availed him nothing. He mind-pulsed a terror-thought but Decado laughed, for death held no terror for him. And then Padaxes knew his doom was sealed, and it irked him greatly that a mortal man could bring about his death. Launching a final savage assault, he experienced the horror of reading Decado’s mind at the last moment, seeing the riposte in the fraction of a second before it was launched.