Just then Ilka appeared, her sabre ripping into his throat. Raul Raubert, yelling an ancient battle-cry, joined the attack. And Wulf, brave Wulf, gathered his swords and heaved himself to his feet, half-stumbling in to the attack.
The Vampyres fell back, and at the rear of the group I saw a creature taller than the rest – face long and fine-boned, eyes slanted and dark. It was not the face I had seen formed from the blood of Cataplas, but the features were similar and I knew that this was one of the Vampyre Kings. My right arm was still numb, but drawing my dagger left-handed I hurled it with all my strength.
I am not – and never have been – skilled with weapons, but the blade flew to its target as if guided by the hand of destiny. It entered the creature’s right eye and buried itself all the way to the hilt. He screamed and his slender hands reached up, grabbing the hilt. But then he sagged and slid to the floor.
He did not disappear, but vainly sought to pluck the weapon loose.
‘Raul!’ I shouted. The head! The head!’ And I pointed at the struggling Vampyre King. Raul Raubert raced forward, his sword hissing through the air. It clove through the creature’s neck and the head tilted. Yet still the hands scrabbled at the hilt. Raul struck again, and now the head came loose, rolling to the flagstones.
In that moment every Vampyre in the hall disappeared, and the flesh vanished from the corpse of the King. Close to the skeleton lay a skull seemingly carved from ivory, and in the empty eye-socket was my dagger.
I stumbled towards it, retrieving the weapon.
‘Was that Golgoleth?’ asked Raul. I shook my head. Corlan groaned and I made my way to him, kneeling at his side. Blood was staining his chin and his eyes had the faraway look of the dying.
‘Is … Ilka safe?’ he whispered.
‘Yes.’His eyes closed. They . . . took her. I’m . . . glad . . . she escaped.’Lie still. Rest.’ I wanted to say words of comfort, but I had none. What could I promise this man, this killer, this hero? Redemption? Forgiveness, and the promise of eternal life? I did not believe in these things. But I needed to say no more, for he died there without another word.
Raul had moved to the open doors. ‘God’s teeth!’ he said. I ran to the sunlit entrance. Outside, hooded against the sunshine, hundreds more of the creatures were swarming across the market square. Raul and I slammed shut the doors, lifting a bronze reinforced bar into place to secure them.
‘It is not going to hold them for long,’ he warned. A great hammering started on the doors, the wood shivering.
‘We’ve got to find Mace,’ I said.
Wulf was sitting with his back to the wall, the skull in his lap. His face was grey and blood was seeping from the wound in his chest. The sword was still jutting there – it was high, just under the collar-bone. ‘Can you walk?’ I asked the hunchback.
He shook his head. ‘You go on,’ he said.
‘There is danger close by,’ came Megan’s voice. I spun, but the hall was empty.
‘You are wrong, lady,’ I said aloud.
I can feel it, moving closer to you. Deadly. Closer.’I swung again, but there was nothing save the creatures beyond the gates, and these could not effect a swift entry.
Something moved behind me and I turned and saw Ilka approaching. Opening my arms, I took her into an embrace. My hands stroked the skin of her back, feeling the flesh beneath the thin tunic. ‘You are very cold,’ I said, rubbing her harder. Her head was resting on my shoulder and I felt the chill of her face against my neck.
And in that instant I knew.
‘Oh, dear God,’ I whispered, holding her close to me, waiting for the fangs to open my throat.
I felt her hand move to my side, but there was no sharp-bite to my jugular. Instead she slumped into me and I heard her sweet voice echo in my mind for the last time. Her head fell back. Her eyes were still beautiful and I did not look at her mouth, not wishing to see the Vampyre canines.