Druss, axe in his hand, strode out towards the creature. Soldiers were falling back before it, but still they formed a wall between the beast and the Emperor. Looking tiny and insubstantial against the colossal frame of the Kalith, Druss stepped into its path. The moon was bright in the night sky, shining from his shoulder-guards and glinting on Snaga’s terrible blades.
The Chaos Beast paused and seemed to stare down at the tiny man before it. Sieben’s mouth was dry, and he could feel the hammering of his own heart.
And the Kalith spoke, voice deep and rumbling, words slurred by its foot-long tongue.
‘Step aside, brother,’ it said. ‘I have not come for you.’
The axe began to glow as red as blood. Druss stood his ground, with Snaga held in both hands.
‘Step aside,’ repeated the Kalith, ‘or I must kill you!’
‘In your dreams,’ said Druss.
The creature lunged forward, one great paw sweeping in towards the axeman. Druss dropped to one knee and swung the blood-red axe, the blade striking the beast’s wrist and cleaving through. As the taloned paw fell to the ground beside the axeman, the Kalith reeled back. No blood issued from the wound, but an oily smoke pumped out into the air, billowing and growing. Fire blazed from the creature’s mouth and it lunged again at the mortal before it. But instead of jumping back Druss leapt in to meet it, swinging Snaga high over his head and bringing the weapon down in a lethal arc that clove into the Kalith’s chest, smashing the sternum and ripping a wound from throat to groin.
Flames exploded from the beast, engulfing the axeman. Druss staggered – and the Kalith fell back, and as the huge form struck the ground even Sieben, some thirty feet away, felt the tremor of the earth. A breeze blew up, the smoke disappearing.
And there was no sign of the Kalith . . .
Sieben ran to where Druss stood. The axeman’s eyebrows and beard were singed, but he bore no marks of burns. ‘By the gods, Druss,’ Sieben shouted, slapping his friend’s back. ‘Now that’ll make a song to bring us both fame and riches!’
‘It killed Oliquar,’ said Druss, shrugging off Sieben’s embrace and letting fall the axe.
Gorben moved alongside him. ‘That was nobly done, my friend. I’ll not forget – I owe you my life.’ Bending his body, he lifted the axe. It was now black and silver once more. ‘This is an enchanted weapon,’ whispered the Emperor. ‘I will give you twenty thousand in gold for it.’
‘It is not for selling, my Lord,’ said Druss.
‘Ah, Druss, and I thought you liked me.’
‘I do, laddie. That’s why I’ll not sell it to you.’
*
A cold wind swirled around the cave. Anindais felt the chill and swung from the altar, looking back to see the Old Woman rise from her seat outside the golden circle. ‘What is happening?’ he asked. “The axeman has killed the beast. Can we send another?’
‘No,’ she told him. ‘But he did not kill it, he merely sent it back to the Pit.’
‘Well, what now?’
‘Now we pay for the services of the Kalith.’
‘You said the payment would be the blood of Gorben.’
‘Gorben did not die.’
‘Then I do not understand you. And why is it so cold?’
A shadow fell across the Naashanite, who swung round to see a huge shape rearing above him. Talons flashed down, slicing into his chest.
‘Not even intelligence,’ repeated the Old Woman, turning her back on his screams. Returning to her apartments, she sat back in an old wicker chair. ‘Ah, Druss,’ she whispered, ‘perhaps I should have let you die back in Mashrapur.’
Chapter Six
Rowena opened her eyes and saw Michanek sitting at her bedside. He was wearing his ceremonial armour of bronze and gold, the helm with the red crest, and the enamelled cheek-guards, the moulded breastplate covered in sigils and motifs.
‘You look very handsome,’ she said sleepily.
‘And you are very beautiful.’
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. ‘Why are you wearing that today? It is not as strong as your old breastplate of iron.’