them. Suddenly Jerek dropped his shoulder and dashed at the Augmentor. He was halfway to him when he hurled one of his axes at the giant’s head. It whirled through the air, end over end, clashing into the demon helm with a gigantic clang and jerking Garmond’s head back. At the same time Jerek launched himself at the Augmentor’s armoured legs, tackling him shoulder-first with the full force of his body weight. The massive warrior stumbled and then toppled backwards, crashing to the ground.
The Wolf was back on his feet in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Garmond’s head and tugged, his jaw clenching from the effort of trying to prise the great helm lose. Eventually it came free. The Highlander tossed it away and raised his remaining axe. With a grunt, he brought it whistling down.
The axe bounced off Garmond’s vambraced forearm. The massive Augmentor threw his other arm back, elbowing Jerek in the stomach. He doubled up for an instant, just long enough for Garmond to get hold of him and lift him bodily off the ground. He plucked the Highlander’s axe from his hand and tossed it aside, and then brought him down over his knee, once, twice, each impact striking with a sickening thud. Finally, Garmond lifted Jerek high above his head. Sasha was shocked to see the man beneath the helmet was fairly young, utterly unremarkable in appearance. With a snarl, the Augmentor hurled Jerek to the ground. He landed hard and lay still.
Sasha looked away. She hadn’t liked Jerek and he hadn’t liked her, but that didn’t change the fact he had saved her life on more than one occasion. She thought he was done for – but then, remarkably, he began to stir.
Despite the broken ribs and worse he must have suffered, the Highlander was trying to struggle upright.
The Augmentor reached down and pulled Jerek up to his knees; the Wolf swayed as if he might topple over at any moment. Garmond drove a steel gauntlet into his face. Sasha winced at the sickening noise of the impact. He punched Jerek again. This time Sasha heard the crack of a cheekbone shattering.
She searched desperately for a weapon of some sort. There was nothing. Not unless she wanted to charge at the giant with a sword. Hating herself, she readied herself to flee as soon as the Augmentor had finished his gruesome work.
Garmond drew his arm back again, this time as far as it would go. ‘You’re dead,’ he grunted. Then he threw his gauntleted fist forwards with incredible force, the momentum like that of the battering ram that had sundered Dorminia’s gates.
And somehow the Wolf caught the punch. Incredibly, like a dead man rising from the grave, he began to climb to his feet. Garmond growled and swung with his other fist – only to see that gauntlet, too, caught in Jerek’s vice-like grip.
Like a river exploding from a fractured dam, the Wolf sprung forwards and drove his forehead into his opponent’s nose, splattering it like a spoiled fruit. Garmond staggered back. Jerek headbutted him again, and again, until both men wore masks of crimson. Still Jerek would not relent. He bent down to retrieve one of his axes and swung it two-handed at Garmond’s leg, a blow so powerful it sheared through the greaves, the axe lodging in his shin.
Garmond howled and collapsed onto one knee. Jerek kicked him in the face and Sasha heard the sound of the big man’s jaw breaking.
Grabbing hold of the Augmentor’s curly black hair, Jerek drove his own knee repeatedly into his opponent’s exposed head. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. The savagery went on and on. By the time he was finished, Garmond’s head was barely recognisable as anything human.
Jerek let Garmond’s corpse fall to the ground and stood there panting. He met Sasha’s eyes, his face a bruised, swollen mess covered in blood. Then, very slowly, he limped over to reclaim his axes.
Sasha stared at him as he turned away from her. Strange emotions whirred inside her head.
Astonished as she was, she was even more surprised when she looked to the hills to the north and saw the bestial army rushing towards Dorminia.
Ghosts
Kayne sucked in great gasps of air. Sweat stung his eyes, making it harder to track that deadly blade flickering at him from all angles. His arms were stinging with the small nicks and cuts his opponent’s sword had inflicted. They were scratches, nothing that would slow the Sword of the North. No,