communicating itself to them. Axis tightened his rein on Belaguez.
Something whispered along the wind and Axis felt the fine hair down the back of his
neck stand on end.
―Skraelings!‖ Magariz hissed.
―Tighten your formation.‖ Axis called calmly. ―Back your horses into a circle.‖
But both men and horses were now fighting to keep their panic down and the horses were
not easy to control now that each rider had either a sword or flaming brand in one hand.
―Magariz, advise me,‖ Axis said conversationally, as Belaguez jostled against the lord‘s
own stallion. ―Do we attempt to flee, or is it better to stand and fight?‖
―Fight,‖ Magariz said tersely. ―The Skraeling wretches want us to flee. If we flee we give
in to panic and fear. And then we are dead.‖
Axis nodded briefly. ―Then we fight.‖ He suddenly felt very calm. He badly wanted to
strike out at something in order to release his own pent up anger and frustration at Faraday‘s
betrayal in the thrill of the sword thrust and the kill.
Whispers surrounded them, words distorted by the damp mist so that they lay just outside
the boundaries of comprehension. Whispers, running along the edge of the w ind and into their
very souls.
―BattleAxe!‖ one of his Axe-Wielders cried, fear drifting through his voice despite his
attempts to quell it. ―They are everywhere!‖
The mist thickened about them, enveloping the men and their horses in a grey fog of
despair, and concealing the creatures that wanted to kill them.
Behind Axis Arne hissed in surprise. Shapes were drifting out of the mist in front of
them. Tall and vaguely man-shaped, the wraiths were so insubstantial that the men of the patrol
could see the shapes of other Skraelings milling behind those in the front ranks. Huge silver orbs
floated inside their deep eye sockets. Their clawed hands and their skull-like heads, long pointed
fangs hanging down from over-sized jaws, were the most solid parts about them.
Axis hefted the sword in his hand. ―Are you ready, my friends?‖ he called in a clear
voice, his tone light. ―Will you stand at my back?‖
Axis‘ voice gave the others heart. The wraiths milled among themselves, unsettled by the
aura of assurance surrounding the leader of the patrol. They preferred overt fear to this disturbing
sense of boldness and daring. There was something unusual about this man. What was it?
―We stand with you, Axis Rivkahson,‖ Belial called, his voice strong and confident.
Magariz joined his voice to that of Belial‘s. ―We place our trust in you, BattleAxe.‖
―Then let us not wait for attack, let us attack! To me!‖ Axis spurred Belaguez forward,
feeling and hearing the others behind him, and then they were among the Skraeling wraiths.
The unsettled wraiths fell back. They preferred sneaking attacks to standing defence.
Axis dropped Belaguez‘s reins, controlling the stallion with only knees and voice, and struck
with his sword at the nearest wraith, feeling the pressure against his blade as it sliced through the
creature‘s eye, revelling in the bright blood that spattered across his own body and down the
neck of the grey stallion. ―It bleeds!‖ he screamed and lunged down with his free hand to grab
the stringy hair on the wraith‘s head, twisting his sword deeper and deeper. He felt so powerful,
so in control, that he did not even think to sing the Icarii ward of protection.
The wraith wailed and grabbed helplessly at the blade as Axis rammed the sword home,
writhing and twisting on the cold steel. The moment the blade drew free the wraith fell apart,
disintegrating into a mass of grey slimy muck in the snow underneath Belaguez‘s plunging
hooves.
Now that he was among them the wraiths knew what he was, knew who he was. Even
though the man did not use his power, the Skraelings recognised it, and they were afraid. They
had not expected him here!
―They die!‖ Axis called, joy strengthening his voice, and reached for the next wraith.
About him his men stayed in close formation, Axis‘ blood lust communicating itself to them but
not tempting them to break rank, flaming brands and swords rising one after the other before
plunging deep into the silver orbs of wraith after wraith. Magariz also found himself screaming
with excitement, each thrust of his blade one more stroke in revenge. Belial, calmer but equally
deadly with his sword, kept his horse close to Axis, one eye on his BattleAxe in case he got too
far ahead of the other men and horses and was isolated among the writhing, screeching pack of
wraiths.
Borneheld‘s soldiers followed, amazed as the BattleAxe of the Axe-Wielders led them
into such an all-consuming deadly attack that for the first time it was the wraiths who were
experiencing the rout rather than them. Each and every one of them rallied behind the
BattleAxe‘s back, drawing strength from his incredible courage and daring. All traces of fear fell
away; all revelled in the feeling of power that came from a successful attack rather than a
desperate retreat. ―To Axis Rivkahson!‖ one of them cried, and his companions took up the cry,
using it almost as a mantra of death as they struck deep into the wraiths time after time. The
Axe-Wielders grinned at their companions, and soon all shouted Axis‘ name as they killed again
and again.
And then, almost as suddenly as the wraiths had appeared they were gone and the mist
began to clear. Belial reached forward and grabbed Belaguez‘s bridle, twisting so hard the horse
almost fell; Belial had seen the bloodlust in Axis‘ eyes and did not want him spurring after the
wraiths as they fled.
―Enough, Axis!‖ he snapped. ―They have gone.‖
Axis turned to him, normality gradually returning to his eyes. ―By Artor, Belial, that felt
good. I needed that.‖ Belial grinned and then laughed, releasing Belaguez‘s bridle. ―Remind me
not to come along with you the next time you feel like a little emotional release, my friend. I
thought you were going to skewer me at one point!‖ His eyes drifted down to Axis‘ hands and he
suddenly paled, his laughter dying as quickly as it had begun.
―Axis,‖ he breathed. ―Look what you hold!‖
Axis glanced down. In his left hand he held the head of one of the Skraeling wraiths,
surprisingly solid but utterly dead. One of its silver eyes was punctured and drained of fluid, the
other staring sightlessly into eternity. Its mouth hung flaccidly, teeth still gleaming wickedly in
the re-emerging sunlight. Its ashen skin was so thin that the bone of its skull threatened to break
through its faint overlay.
Axis hefted it in his hand and held it high for all the men to see. ―See!‖ he cried, his voice
drifting triumphantly across the frozen wastes. ―They can die too.‖ He lowered his voice and
looked at Magariz. ―A gift for Borneheld, methinks,‖ he said, and Magariz flinched a little at the
harshness in Axis‘ eyes and voice.
Of all present, Arne was the only one not with his eyes fixed on Axis‘ face. He kept his
eyes drifting across the frozen wastes about them, ever vigilant for fresh treachery and attack.
―BattleAxe,‖ he hissed. ―‘Ware behind you!‖
Axis swung Belaguez about, his face tightening. Walking fearlessly towards them was a
creature conceived in someone‘s nightmare. Magariz inhaled convulsively. ―Is that one of the
creatures that attacked you?‖ Axis asked softly. Magariz nodded. ―Yes, but more so. They have
grown, changed, since they attacked Gorkenfort.‖
Axis‘ hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.
About fifteen paces away the creature stopped. It was both massive and graceful at the
same time, taller and more heavily muscled than a man, but with a movement so sinuous that it
reminded many of those watching of a stalking cat. Its head was a horror—part bird, part man,
part beast. It had a hooked beak for a mouth and vicious tusks protruding from its cheekbones.
Its eyes and forehead were man-shaped, but its skull was covered by a crazy mixture of fur and
feathers, while its naked body was scaled like that of a lizard. Its hands and feet were tipped with
massive black claws, and from its back extended two leathery wings that were similarly tipped
with lethal black talons.
Axis sat Belaguez quietly, looking unconcerned by the dreadful creature that confronted
them. Inside, however, he remembered the face of Gorgrael in the clouds at the Ancient Barrows.
This creature shared many of its features.
Gorgrael‘s creature regarded them for a moment, its head tilted inquisitively like that of a
bird although its silver eyes glinted with the deadly madness of a cornered boar. The wind
ruffled the fur and feathers atop its elongated head. It focused on the head of the Skraeling that
Axis held in his gloved hand.
―Sssss!‖ it hissed, then raised its beady eyes to Axis. ―You are Rivkahson?‖
Its voice was half-bird‘s chirp, half-hiss, and hard to understand. It had to speak slowly,