A Daroth rose from beside the Duke and Karis looked hard at him. The warrior was huge, barrel-chested and powerful. She swung to Tarantio and he nodded acceptance. ‘I think your captain looks old and fat,’ she said. ‘I will therefore use my smallest warrior.’
‘When he dies,’ said the captain, ‘you will become mine.
I will feast on you tonight, female. I will swallow your eyes whole.’
Karis ignored him and walked back to Tarantio. ‘Can you take him?’ she asked, her voice just a whisper.
‘I can take anything that lives,’ Dace told her. Drawing his short swords, he stepped out to meet the captain. The Daroth was carrying a long, serrated broadsword. As Dace took up his fighting stance he felt a hot stab of pain in his mind, like a flame searing up from his neck and into his cranium. He staggered back.
‘They are telepaths,’ came the voice of Tarantio. ‘Fight through the pain. I will try to block the fire.’
Dace’s anger swelled. Huge as the Daroth was, still he felt he needed the advantage of magic. You may be big, thought Dace, but you are a coward! The pain flared once more.
‘He is in here with us,’ whispered Tarantio. ‘He can hear us.’
‘I think I’ll kill him now,’ said Dace. He darted forward, ducking under a ferocious cut to slam his sword-blade into the Daroth’s belly. The blade did not penetrate more than half an inch. Dace leapt back, swaying away from a slashing blow that would have opened him from shoulder to belly.
‘The armpit,’ said Tarantio. ‘Remember the tomb. They have no bone protection there.’
The Daroth backed away, his elbows dropping protectively to his sides. ‘Yes, I had remembered, brother,’ snapped Dace. ‘So good of you to remind our opponent.’ The Daroth, now holding his blade double-handed, ran forward and sent a wicked sweeping cut which Dace parried. Such was the power of the blow that the smaller warrior was sent hurtling to the floor. As Dace rolled to his knees, the Daroth leapt towards him with
sword raised. Dace switched his grip on his right-hand sword, holding it now like a dagger. He waited until the last moment, then surged upright, dancing aside as the serrated sword came down. As his sword slammed into the Daroth’s armpit, plunging through muscle and tissue, a hideous croaking scream came from the captain, who stumbled and fell to his knees. Dace plunged his second sword into the Daroth’s body, alongside the first blade, then levered it up and down. Milk-coloured liquid sprayed from the wound, drenching Dace. Dragging his swords clear he threw himself upon the dying Daroth’s back and smashed again and again at the nape of the giant neck and the raised vertebrae showing there. The white skin peeled away, exposing bone. One of the vertebrae cracked, a second suddenly dislodging. The Daroth’s head fell sideways. Dace delivered a tremendous blow to the neck, which snapped with a sound that echoed around the hall. The Daroth captain pitched forward from his knees, his face striking the stone floor. The fiery pain in his mind faded away, but still Dace continued to hack at the neck, his blows frenzied and powerful. The head rolled clear.
‘That is enough,’ he heard Karis say. Dace blinked. He had an urge to rip out the Daroth’s dark eyes and swallow them whole. Tarantio surged back into control.
Karis walked to the sickle table and stood silently for a moment. ‘As I thought, old and fat,’ she said. ‘I would like the man, Barin, brought out now. I will trade the rest of his possessions for the prisoners you hold. Added to this – upon my return to Corduin – I will also arrange a wagon of salt to be brought to the edge of your lands.’
‘I accept your trade, female,’ said the Duke. ‘You have entertained us well today. Come the spring – when the
Daroth army descends upon your city – you will entertain
us more.’
‘We will surprise you, my lord, I think.’
‘I do not believe so. The human who fought for
you is unique. You do not have enough like him to