The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,184

was not going to be seeking shelter. “He’s mine!” He ran four paces at Tungdil’s side to face the perfidious attacker. “I’ll beat you to a pulp, Franek!” he vowed, utterly convinced the famulus they had found must have overpowered the actor and fourthling and followed them to attack from behind! “You won’t get away with this!” he shouted angrily.

He was all the more bemused, then, to see a man appear before him in a pale gray hooded tunic and knee-high boots and with a broad sword hanging from his weapons belt. He was wearing light brown gloves and had his arms half raised. Presumably this unknown figure was in the middle of casting another spell.

“How many more of you are there in this accursed forest?” yelled Ireheart, launching an attack. “You’re worse than mushrooms!” Then he realized he had misjudged the distance between himself and his foe.

Before he could reach his adversary he saw the left hand release three lilac-colored rays that fused into one, heading his way!

Just before the ray touched him, a black wall sprang up to protect him and then Ireheart saw a number of runes glowing brightly in front of his face as a wave of heat passed over him.

The dazzling light affected his eyes. No matter which way he turned his head, he could only register the afterimages of those symbols, making it well-nigh impossible to attack the famulus. “Scholar?” he called, listening for a response.

There was a hissing sound and again it grew as bright as day.

“Blast! Things were just getting better!” Ireheart complained. He could hear the clank of metal on metal, then there was a roar, and brightness and dark alternated swiftly—until there was a loud shout and a body fell onto the ash-strewn forest floor.

“Tungdil!” At least Ireheart was now able to recognize outlines. The squat black shape in front of him must be his friend. A human lay dead on the ground. “Thanks be to Vraccas,” he said, relieved and disappointed at one and the same time. He had badly wanted to be the one to fell the enemy. “This hocus pocus is getting on my nerves. How did he get here?” He rubbed his eyes until he could see clearly again.

Tungdil had sliced the magician right through, and then finished him off with stabs to the heart. “These are Lot-Ionan’s personal signature runes on his tunic,” he mused.

“Was it him and Franek together, do you think, setting up that ambush? Or is he here by coincidence?” Ireheart went over to join Tungdil. The two of them looked at the young man’s corpse.

Tungdil rammed Bloodthirster into the ground and searched the body and the rucksack. Apart from a bag of coins he found two keys, some provisions, and maps of Sangpur and Rân Ribastur. “Not very much there.”

“No. Not very much.” Ireheart leaned on his weapon. “Let’s get back to the barn. Franek can tell us who this fellow is.”

Tungdil ordered two of the Zhadár to carry the corpse. Mallenia supported the half-conscious Coïra. She was too weak to be able to speak much but hinted that the famulus had ambushed her and struck her down with a spell.

“Oh, my blessed forge,” Ireheart murmured, stroking his beard. “If she can’t stand up to a poxy famulus, how is she ever supposed to cope against Lot-Ionan?”

“Victoriously,” was Balyndar’s reply. “I don’t doubt her abilities. If you get an arrow in the back what earthly use are your crow’s beak and all your courage?”

Ireheart had to admit the young dwarf was right. But he was not happy about it and for some time went on searching for what would have been the perfect riposte.

Slîn had climbed up to the hayloft and opened the loading hatch above the gate. Lying flat on his stomach, he held the crossbow in front of him, his bolts stacked at one side.

As he watched the scorched forest, he made out several figures approaching the ruined building. His dwarf-eyes enabled him to detect the enemies in the twilight.

Whatever the famulus Vot had done in his experiments, merging humans and animals, these creatures were horrific!

Slîn saw a massive man’s body which bore an ox head; where flesh met fur a stream of pus was oozing out. A pair of arms had been exchanged for the paws of a bear; on another monster he saw the hind legs of a horse, and yet others had tentacles instead of arms.

Some of the experiments were even worse: Vot had given human