The Last Bastion by Nathan Hawke

Author:Nathan Hawke [Hawke, Nathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

20

THE WIZARD OF AULIA

Oribas ducked under the shadewalker’s sword and threw a handful of salt at its face. It let out an unearthly scream and reeled back. He shoved a flaming torch at it, burning it some more. Salt and fire and ice, all those things together had once stilled a shadewalker long enough for a stab of cold iron through the heart to finish it. ‘Addic!’ He looked desperately for the other Marroc but all he could see was the flicker of torches in among the trees. A handful. Everyone else had fled.

A heavy stone fizzed past his head and hit the shade-walker in the face and suddenly the air was filled with the stench of fish, and Oribas understood it hadn’t been a stone at all but a pot of oil. He rammed his torch at the reeling shadewalker again, held it there until the oil started to burn and then stumbled back as flames engulfed the monster’s face and chest.

‘Iron! Cold iron!’ Oribas took another handful of salt from his bag for when the flames started to fade. ‘Addic!’

‘Oribas!’ Footsteps crunched the snow behind him but it wasn’t Addic. Achista had a shield in one hand and a sword in the other – not that she had much idea of what to do with a sword any more than he did but she held it anyway. ‘Everyone else has run. You need to come.’

Oribas shook his head. ‘We can put this one to rest.’ The flames were dying now. The shadewalker had stopped struggling and stood swaying from side to side. It stank of burned flesh and scorched fish, and when Oribas threw his second handful of salt into its face, it collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Oribas jumped on it at once, pulling at the mail coat it wore. ‘Help me with this!’

Achista recoiled and shook her head. He understood. There was something about the touch of cold dead flesh on the skin. Oribas had cut up a dozen bodies in his youth, long ago when he’d been learning his arts, and yet it still made his skin crawl, the clammy touch of the dead. The shadewalkers felt the same only they weren’t quite dead, which made it worse. He pulled the mail up around the shadewalker’s hips and then rolled it over onto its back and pulled further. The dark was a blessing. The last time he’d done this had been in daylight. What he’d seen he still carried with him, clear as yesterday.

He had to push hard to get at the creature’s ribs. He couldn’t get the mail any further without taking the whole coat off. ‘Can you finish it?’ The last time he’d done this the shadewalker’s mail hadn’t been so long. Easier to pull back.

Achista shook her head. She backed away. ‘No. I can’t. Not one of them.’

‘A knife. Please. Iron.’ Oribas reached out a hand. Achista pressed a haft into his palm. He levered back the mail and

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