he dropped the tree. “Ard dre, they ha’ long blades in there!”
Mórganthu walked forward to survey the situation. “Trivial, trivial, I say. Are you not my finest warrior?”
“Sure, an’ I’m your last one. O’Sloan an’ the others fell at the circle!”
“The easier to reward you. Kill those inside, and I will give you triple the price of the finest kern warrior.”
“But if me hand is cut off —”
Mórganthu forced the tip of his staff into McEwan’s chin. “Do you fear their blades? A smith, a monk, and an imbecile?”
“I fear none if I got me own good club. But when the doors bust open, I’ll ha’ naught but a lug o’ tree.”
“Nevertheless, I command you to break them down. The Stone calls to me. Kill those inside and bring it out!”
McEwan grimaced but nodded his assent.
Backing up until he was out of the blade’s range, he and the druidow picked up the tree again and, with one mighty heave, rushed at the door.
CHAPTER 36
THE FORGE OF SUFFERING
Merlin paused at the bellows and yelled, “Is the Stone breaking?”
“No,” Natalenya answered. “Nothing seems to hurt it.”
Again the hammer clanged against the Stone. Merlin’s father backed away from the smoking forge and sucked in cleaner air.
Off in the distance, thunder roared and shook the smithy.
“They’re coming,” Dybris yelled.
With a loud boom, the doors cracked.
“Use the sword!” Merlin’s father called as he slammed the hammer into the Stone, causing flames to shoot upward from the coals.
“Too late to —”
This time the blow from the battering ram snapped the bar in two, and the doors burst inward. Chunks of wood flew across the room as the workbenches overturned.
Merlin released the bellows and drew his dirk. As he moved forward, he squeezed Natalenya’s trembling hand. “Pray.” I’ll need it.
But she was already whispering for help.
As the dust settled, a huge shadow moved into the doorway, blocking the blur of torchlight before shoving the workbench aside with a mighty thrust.
Dybris swooshed his sword and yelled as a club hurtled down. The monk clunked to the ground just as Merlin’s father jumped into the gap.
“Have at you, brute!”
There was a clash as the sword bit into the club. Merlin stepped closer, trying to keep track of the dodging shape of his father and the lumbering form of the giant.
“Stay still, gwer!” the Eirish voice boomed through the smithy. “I’ll bash yar head just like the monk’s.”
“Not while I’m —”
The giant’s long leg shot out and kicked Merlin’s father, who collapsed to the dirt. The warrior then yanked him up and threw him across the room over the blazing forge. Owain landed on top of the bellows with a crack.
Merlin took his chance. He dove forward with the point of his blade and jabbed it into the giant’s side, biting deeply.
The man bellowed in rage and slapped Merlin down with his meaty hand.
Merlin rolled and stood again with his dirk ready.
But the intruder was gone.
“The bard stabbed me!” he shouted as he ran off into the darkness.
The light of the room dimmed as the druidow continued their dark chanting. Thunder echoed on the western wind, and the Stone began to hum. At first the noise tickled Merlin’s ears like a fly, but soon it grew to the sound of a great beating of wings.
He covered his ears as a violent wave of freezing air blasted at him from the Stone. Merlin bit back a cry as the skin on his face dried and cracked, and his hands blistered in the burning frost. The Stone blasted another icy wind, and this time, like raking claws, it drew blood from his skin.
He could faintly hear Natalenya’s voice, but the exact words were caught by the howling din.
Merlin tried to rouse himself by walking, but his legs felt as if they were trapped in heavy snowdrifts. He lifted his arms a little and discovered they too had numbed beyond feeling. His lungs deadened, and a heavy sleep crept upon him. With detachment he felt his dirk drop from his fingers and clang upon the frozen dirt at his feet. He strove to think, but his muddled thoughts drifted away like snowflakes.
The chanting grew louder outside. Soon the footfalls of a man echoed through the doorway, and a dark shadow filled the expanse.
“O blind one, is that you?”
Merlin turned toward the silhouette. Who is speaking?
“I’m … here,” Merlin said. “May I … help you?”
“Yes, yes. I have arrived to claim that which is my own from the smithy.”
The smithy? Is that where I