Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,21

was scared, he did not show it; he threw himself at me, deftly avoiding my sword and swinging for me again.

I was grateful that in my years as a leader I had not let my training slip and was fast enough on my feet to counter. Our swords clashed and the adrenalin within me peaked as we parried briefly. He was a skilled fighter—Pagan clearly taught his people more than just magic—it was tempting to string out the fight, to enjoy it more, but I had business to attend to. The man gasped as I slashed across his hand and his sword fell to the stones with a clatter. Before he could ask for mercy, my blade slit his throat.

Not even waiting for his body to crumple before me, I wheeled about in search of my next opponent. Why had I abstained from the battlefield for so long? This was heaven.

It was also victory.

We had taken them completely by surprise, and while Pagan’s magic had made our initial attack troublesome, our sheer weight of numbers had, as I’d predicted, made the difference. For every man of mine they struck down, five were there to take his place. Already, Templar prisoners were being led away from the battlefield, struggling in their bonds, and the rocky beach was strewn with Templar dead. It was only a matter of time now.

“To the boats!”

The cry rang out, bell-like and clear, above the noise of battle and the roar of magic. Instantly, I sought the speaker, and there, through the smoke, in amongst the thick of the fighting and yet somehow still standing clear from it, a man stood alone.

“To the boats!”

As he called out again, the man turned and I saw the face beneath the hood. It was a face I had only seen once before, but not one that was easy to forget. Even at this distance and in the darkness, I could make out the green eyes by the light of the fires that raged in what was left of the Templar camp. Surrounding the eyes, was a blue tattoo of interwoven Celtic knots, like a burglar’s mask.

Pagan.

“There he is! Get him!”

My response was not as dignified as I would have wanted it to be, but Pagan clearly had an escape plan, and if he got away, then all of this was for nothing. With a few words of power, I threw up an aura of fire about me, blazing like a second skin, and began to shoulder and shove my way through the fighting throng, burning any who got in my way.

I had to reach him.

But what boats was he talking about? I had seen no boats.

The Templars were starting to back off now, trying to follow their leader’s instructions, but struggling to disengage with their attackers. That was all to the good; if I read my man right, then Pagan was not the type to leave his people behind. He was the sort of man willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of his followers, regardless of how feeble and futile a gesture it was.

“He’s there!” I roared again. “Close in! Don’t let him get away!”

If Pagan heard me—and he surely must have—then he showed no fear. Arrogant puppy—I would make him regret it. In my dungeons he would come to fear me so much, just the sound of my tread would make him wet himself.

“To the boats!”

What boats?!

Then I saw them. Behind Pagan, out in the bay, the sea water was bubbling and rippling. Moments later, speed boats emerged from beneath the waves, the water sloughing off them like water off a duck’s back, so the boats themselves were dry as bone. He had kept them hidden there, encased in bubbles of magic.

Clever bastard.

But it wouldn’t do him any good. His men wouldn’t be able to get to the boats as long as they were fighting mine and my own boats were out in the bay. We had him from both sides. Pagan was finished.

What a glorious realization that was.

I should have known better than to crow over a victory not yet earned. Pagan’s cloak billowed about him as he swept his arms in a complicated gesture as if he were gathering up the world. He threw his hands out in front of him and from them streamed a thick, cloying blanket of fog that was more like smoke, viscous and choking. It obscured sight completely and seemed to stick to our skin, so thick, you had to press