The beast ignored the swordsman and charged at the girl, scattering tables and chairs. The speed was not great, but its huge bulk seemed to fill the room.
Senta ran at it, hurling himself at its broad back. One of the four arms clubbed at him, smashing his ribs. He staggered and almost fell. But the creature was rearing up above Miriel. She slashed her sword across a huge forearm, slicing deep into the flesh. Then Senta attacked again, plunging his own blade into the great belly.
A fist clubbed him again and he was sent spinning to the floor, his sword torn from his grasp. He saw Miriel dive beneath the creature’s grasp and roll to her feet. Senta tried to rise, but a piercing pain clove into his side, and he knew several of his ribs were broken.
‘Ekodas! For the sake of all that’s holy help us!’
*
Ekodas knelt in the golden chamber, the crystal held in his hands, his thoughts far away. The doors of his mind were all open now, and the noises from beyond the chamber held no meaning for him. His life unfolded before the eyes of memory, wasted and filled with ridiculous fears. The sanctuary of the temple now seemed more of a grey prison, holding him from the riches of life. He gazed down at the many facets of the crystal, seeing himself reflected a hundred times, and he felt the strength of his soul expanding within the frail flesh of his body.
In an instant he could see not only the battle in the hall outside, but also the grim fighting on the walls far above. And more than this he saw the man Waylander moving silently along the darkened corridors of Zhu Chao’s palace.
He laughed then. What did it matter?
And he saw Shia, standing beside the tall Orsa Khan, and the hole in the portcullis gate through which Gothir soldiers were scrambling. Meaningless, he thought, though he felt a shaft of irritation that he would no longer have the opportunity of enjoying her body, his enhanced memory recalling again the smell of her skin and her hair.
‘Ekodas! For the sake of all that’s holy help us!’
For all that’s holy! What an amusing thought. Just like the temple, the Source was created by men as a prison for the soul, to prevent stronger men from enjoying the fruits of their power. I am free of such baggage, he thought.
Dardalion had said the crystal was evil. Such nonsense. It was beautiful, perfect. And what was evil, save a name given by weak men to a force they could neither comprehend nor control?
‘Now you understand,’ whispered a voice in his mind. Ekodas closed his eyes, and saw Zhu Chao, sitting at a desk in a small study.
‘Yes, I understand,’ Ekodas told him.
‘Bring me the crystal, and we shall know such power, such joy!’
‘Why should I not keep it for myself?’
Zhu Chao laughed. ‘The Brotherhood is already in place, Ekodas. Ready to rule. Even with the crystal it would take you years to reach such a position of power.’
‘There is truth in that,’ agreed Ekodas. ‘It will be as you say.’
‘Good. Now show me the battle, my brother.’
Ekodas stood and, the crystal in his hands, walked to the doorway. Beyond it he saw Miriel dive to the floor and roll as the beast lunged for her. Senta, one hand clutching his ribs, had drawn a dagger and was stumbling forward to the attack.
Foolish man. Like trying to kill a whale with a needle.
The injured warrior plunged his dagger into the beast’s back. The beast half-turned, and a mighty fist crashed into Senta’s neck. He crumpled to the floor without a sound. Miriel saw him fall. And screamed, the sound full of fury. Hurling herself forward she thrust her blade into one of the open mouths, plunging it up into what should have been a brain.
Ekodas chuckled. There was no brain there, he knew. It was situated – if brain it could be called – between the heads, in the enormous lump of the shoulders.
The beast caught hold of Miriel, lifting her from her feet. Ekodas found himself wondering whether it would tear her apart, or merely bite her head from her shoulders.