The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,127

worked his way towards the door. His sword rang each time he parried a cut, the long staff clattering against steel as he pushed to break the circle, which now tightened and bunched as he neared the door. With blades stabbing in from all sides, he whirled to deflect each attack, but with so many, it was inevitable something would get through. An initial stab drew a gasp of pain, a slice across the arm another. The circle turned with slow menace around him, slicing, stabbing; wearing him down.

In a desperate attempt to break the circle he pushed away from the door. An upward slice produced a satisfying cry and he pressed the advantage into creating an opening, but it was all taking too long. The advantage was short-lived as another moved to take their place, and he was forced back into the ring. Now, one after another beat forwards to cut at him. It was a ring of slicing, cutting blades each falling in different time or stabbing in to catch him out. He cried out in anger as an opponent’s sword found its mark in his side, roaring at them in defiance, finding enough space to whirl around and take the head clean off one of the stabbing shadows. It was a reckless move – others lunged in, piercing his undefended flank. Relentlessly the circle closed, the blades hacking down, until it was a ring of rising and falling steel with only silence at the centre.

After a few moments, they subsided and the circle opened, leaving the pile of tattered grey cloth and the weapons, where they fell.

“It is done,” said one from the circle, now arrayed in a semi-circle around the three remaining members of the High Court.

“Finally,” said Altair.

“What about the rest of them?” asked Krane.

“The Warders are no more,” said Altair. “Fionh and Fellstamp are gone. Slimgrin is missing, along with Mellion. Amber and Mishla are all that remain and they are not enough to stand against us. Without Garvin to lead them they will fall.”

“Then the day is ours,” said Krane.

“Ours?” said Altair. “There is still much to do, but the day will never be ours.”

“What do you mean?” asked Teoth.

Altair walked forward through the semi-circle of ghostly figures outlined in a nimbus of white fire. “Your record does not serve you well,” he said.

“But we delivered Garvin to you,” protested Teoth.

“Yes,” said Altair. “You betrayed him, just as you betrayed me long ago. Just as you would betray me as soon as I turn my back.”

“But we trusted you!” said Krane.

“As I trusted you,” said Altair, “even while you were planning my downfall. You know what to do,” he said.

Even as the semi-circle started to close, the ground beneath the hall began to tremble as Teoth reached down with fingers outstretched to the ground. Krane’s form shifted, becoming more feral, with elongated eyebrows, fingers more like claws, teeth lengthening into fangs.

Four new figures stepped forward into the ring around the two. Their clothes were the colour of ash, their eyes cold grey. From them, a darkness deeper than any shadow spread forward, initially slowly and then running across the floor like water.

Eager to escape the spreading blackness, Krane leapt at one from the ring of shadows, half-man, half-beast, and twice the size with claws extended and long fangs bared. The figure went down under that onslaught but the others moved in and the were-creature was unceremoniously hacked, stabbed and sliced by the swords gathered around.

Teoth watched in horror and shrank back. The foundations of the building vibrated to his summons. From the earth below the hall a huge figure burst upwards through the floor, rising with ponderous implacability, splintering floorboards and crashing its blunt head into beams. Vaguely man-shaped with a blank earthen face, its maw opened with a gravelly roar, sand spilling from its open mouth while its mighty arm swept at the ring of shadows, the swordsmen falling back before the assault of mud and stone.

Not so the grey shades, who stood their ground and shifted into insubstantial mist. The huge stone fist passed right through them while the blackness reaching for Teoth advanced as he tried to climb the wall away from it. The blackness spread up his legs and thighs, chest and head, enveloping him.

Teoth screamed and crashed to the floor, thrashing blindly and choking as the darkness entered his mouth, nose and eyes, He thrashed briefly, kicking out at nothing. The huge earthen shape wavered back and forth,