Born of Darkness (William King) - William King Page 0,51

Shadow,” King Aemon shouted. He raised his hands. A halo of light played around his head and then a bolt of pure incandescent light flickered from his fingers. It hit the Old One right in the chest. The eye-pieces of the demon mask helmet went completely black. The metal of the armour began to bubble and run.

The amulet against Kormak’s chest grew warm as the King’s magic took effect.

***

Vorkhul felt the armour grow warm as the accursed human sorcerer unleashed his power. For a mortal he was strong.

For a mortal.

Vorkhul invoked more of the runes on the armour. Spells of protection shimmered in the air around him. The gnawing beam of light splashed off, sending bolts of golden sunfire slashing through the air. One hit the stuffed mammoth and set it alight, another sliced through the cable holding the skeleton of the dragon. Part of it tumbled to the ground, crushing humans beneath the calcified bones.

Vorkhul strode forward, into the full power of the sorcerer’s spell, letting it glance off the wards. He shouted mockery at the insects who dared pit themselves against him. The human sorcerer’s face had gone from confident and zealous to weary and doubting. He was using all his power in one tremendous burst and it was draining out of him quickly. The sunfire bolt became weaker and sputtered to a stop. The human soldier’s massed themselves around the mage and made ready to die in his defence.

Vorkhul was happy to oblige them.

***

Kormak watched the king’s spell fail. The glow of pure golden power around Aemon’s head dimmed and went out like a snuffed candle. No human being could unleash so much magical energy in so short a time without feeling the effect. The king doubled over like a man having a seizure. Prince Taran shouted to the guards.

A group of them grabbed the king by his arms and began to pull him back through the door. All the while Aemon protested but he could do nothing to stop them. Jonas went with him. He clutched daggers in his hand.

Taran stood his ground. He bellowed orders, making sure the troops stood fast while his brother escaped. Kormak felt something like admiration for the man. There was no denying his bravery or his loyalty. It seemed likely that they going to get him killed.

***

The brothers of the Order of the Dawn threw their flasks of banefire at the oncoming demon. Alchemical liquid clung and ignited. Flames danced over the metal shell, transforming the Old One. An armoured elemental of blazing death strode through the hall.

Then the impossible happened. The flames around Vorkhul dwindled and died. It was a thing Kormak had never seen happen before. Banefire could burn even underwater.

And still the demon came on.

***

Vorkhul moved through the ranks of the soldiers like a bladed whirlwind, killing as he went. Kormak knew there was nothing ordinary men could do to stop him. Sunflares had failed. Alchemical fire had failed. Sorcery had failed. Even his own dwarf-forged blade had failed. There had to be something he could do.

He felt at his belt for the flask of Valen’s Elixir. He did not want to take it. It might kill him but that was not what made him reluctant. Drinking it would be the final admission that his body, his skill and his blade had all failed him.

Vorkhul slaughtered two more soldiers. The men were on the edge of breaking. How many more would die if he did nothing?

Kormak unstoppered the flask and put it to his lips. It burned like rotgut alcohol on the way down, making him gasp and snort.

He stood frozen for a moment. His heart beat faster. His tongue tingled. His skin felt tight. He counted to ten, knowing that the drug would take that long to affect him and wondered if he was going to die. Many men did when they took the elixir. It worked best for young men. Warriors of his age who used it were prone to sudden apoplectic death.

The Old One killed another dozen men. They threw themselves at him, trying to find a weakness in the armour, to restrain his limbs. He tossed one man a score of yards. There was a terrible cracking noise as he smashed into the wall. He lashed out with his axe and chopped down another three men.

Was he weakening? Were his movements slowing? Kormak realised that the soldiers were slowing down as well. They moved with the speed of men trapped in a nightmare.

It