A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,115

a long spear. A Feral’s head spun through the air, its body running on. Tain skewered another beast with his spear, pinning it to the ground. It began to climb its way along the spear shaft towards Tain, then Alcyon’s axe crunched into its head, an explosion of fur, bone and brain.

More screaming drew Drem’s eyes. A horse—Utul’s mount—was rearing, lashing out and crunching into a Feral’s chest, bones snapping. Beside Utul, Shar was laying about her with her sword. A Feral’s arm flew lazily through the air.

More Ferals slammed into Utul’s horse, blood spurting, the horse neighing, screaming, toppling over.

Drem ran, as if in slow motion, as he saw the horse roll, pinning Utul’s leg, a Feral’s swipe opening the horse’s belly, intestines spilling. Another Feral moving towards Utul. Shar was trying to reach him, but there were two Ferals leaping at her.

The Feral stood over Utul, a foot stamping on his sword arm, pinning it, jaws opening wide.

Drem crashed into the creature, both of them tumbling to the ground, rolling. Foul breath washed over him as teeth snapped a hair’s breadth from his face. He raised his knee high, managed to lever the creature away and stab with his seax, deep into its waist.

The Feral roared, teeth snapping frenziedly. Drem twisted his blade, felt blood sluice over his hand, his grip slipping. He pushed, scrambled in the dirt, managed to slide away from the beast, rolled, came to one knee and hurled his hand-axe.

It crunched into the Feral’s face. The beast collapsed backwards, spasming, then was finally still.

Drem staggered to his feet and wrenched his seax and axe free from the corpse.

Utul was still pinned; Shar reached him at the same time as Drem. He pushed and heaved at Utul’s dead horse and Shar dragged Utul free.

“My thanks,” Utul said to Drem. He looked down at his mount and bent to lay his palm on the dead animal’s side, Drem seeing tears blur the warrior’s eyes.

“They shall pay for that,” Utul snarled. He swept up his sword, which was no longer flaming, and looked around.

Cullen was still mounted, laying about with his sword, Keld and Stepor fighting side by side close by.

Drem and the two Jehar ran to support the group, Utul limping but still bellowing a war-cry.

Drem chopped his axe into the spine of a Feral rolling with Fen and ripped it free. He slashed claws that were swiping at his face, swayed away from snapping teeth and stabbed his seax up into the jaw of a Feral, felt his blade cut through the soft tissue of its mouth, on, up into its brain. He kicked the dead beast away.

Then the two giants were there.

Drem was chopping into the chest of a fallen Feral, axe and seax windmilling, hacking and stabbing, blood and fragments of bone spraying. Blood in his face, clouding his vision, but he kept on stabbing. Something grabbed his shoulder, shook him. He snarled as he turned, raising his blades.

“It’s over, laddie,” Alcyon said, Drem freezing, staring. He looked about, saw Alcyon was right. He glimpsed a Feral bounding away, but everywhere else the deformed creatures were still and twisted in death.

Drem looked at the ring of people they had aided. Tough men and women, the type Drem was familiar with from the Desolation, weathered and hard. All were bloodied, wide-eyed and breathing hard.

An old woman stepped out of the ring, grey hair matted, her face stained with blood and soot, clothes tattered and torn. She had a knife in one hand, a small axe in the other, like him.

“Drem, Drem, is that you?” she called out, eyes fixing on him.

“Hildith?” Drem said, taking a step towards her.

“Of course it’s me,” she said, brushing back strands of her matted hair and smudging soot around her face.

“We should have believed you,” she told him grimly. “When you came to the Assembly and warned us about the mine. You told us Olin was murdered.” She bowed her head. “Kergard is destroyed, they rolled through it like a plague.” She looked up, mouth an angry, thin line. “They burned down my mead-hall.”

“You’re safe now,” Drem said, helping Hildith stand as she swayed and half fell onto him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

FRITHA

Fritha stepped into the cave mouth, Gulla at her side, Gunil behind them. It was wide and high enough for Gunil to walk comfortably without stooping.

On either side iron bars reflected torchlight, cages housing more of Fritha’s Ferals. Some she could tell were obedient to her, by the way they