Part 16 (1/2)

Twice the tree-thick timbers rocked backwards and forwards before the locks smashed into a thousand pieces. 'You are

mine!' he hissed, entering the courtyard.

'NO!' shouted Archer, leaping down the tower steps four at a time. Tears of rage filled his eyes and anger boiled in his heart. 'I shall avenge Kyot's death even without the Bow of Orm, and I will bring his body out of the depths of night to see the sunlight once more. Do you hear me, foulest Nightmare, dirtier of daylight? I shall drive you out of my house before the new sun rises!'

'Run!' mocked Krulshards, moving forward. 'Hide, puller

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aof toy bows, but I will find you and keep you beyond the candlelight for ever.'

'Run!' replied Archer, coldly, stepping into the courtyard and necking another arrow on to the string. 'You have dared to enter my house without my leave, bringing black news of despair.'

'I bring more than black news!' spat the Master of Nightmares, 'I bring defeat and darkness to all Elundium!'

Archer drew the bow taut and released the arrow at the centre of the malice, putting all his strength behind the shot, but Krulshards laughed, opened the malice and again caught the arrow in mid-flight, throwing it harmlessly across the cobbles.

'You cannot hurt me, foolish Archer. You gave away the only bow in all Elundium with that power and it now lies broken in the City of Night beneath your son's body!'

The anger in Archer's heart turned icy cold as he remembered Nevian's words, 'Keep safe the Bow of Orm, and let no other hand butyours upon the string until the Nightmare is dead. Use none but the f ne-forged gla.s.s arrow-heads of Clatterford if you wish to pierce the centre of the darkness.'

'I have been a blind fool, over-anxious to let Kyot do my work. I should never have let him lead the Archers of Stumble Hill into battle before the Gates of Night. It was my place with the Bow of Orm to stand against this Nightmare.'

Rubbing away a tear upon his sleeve Archer reached back into the quiver and took the third arrow, cursing its blunt steel edge and wis.h.i.+ng his hand was closing upon the cold crystal blades of Clatterford. Wetting the dull steel point with his tongue he necked the arrow on to his bow and faced the dark shape that stood between the ruined doors.

'Krulshards!' he cried, moving quickly across the courtyard until his back was firmly braced against the solid oak shooting b.u.t.t. 'I remember your name, Nightmare, and the curse you laid on Elundium. I am the Wayhouse Keeper of Stumble Hill, set upon the Greenway's edge to defeat your foul kind.

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Even without the Bow of Orm I have the power to send an

arrow strike into your black heart. Look to the tattoo upon my arm!'

Krulshards hesitated, wrapping the malice tightly about his shoulders. Perhaps this Archer had more strength. Perhaps he did have the power to stand against the darkness. 'Kerzolde!'

he rasped, pus.h.i.+ng his Captain before him. 'Take the Archer's bow and break it across your knee.'

Kerzolde rushed at the Archer, a broad-bladed spear in his good claw, only to be knocked off his feet, screaming, as Archer's arrow pierced his armour and sank deep into his chest. Kerzolde crawled back to his Master, clutching at the embedded shaft with his broken claw.

'Guard the door!' Krulshards hissed, wrenching the blade of the arrow free and pus.h.i.+ng Kerzolde roughly out of his path.

Archer acted quickly in the few moments it took Krulshards to pull the arrow. He dug deeply into his jerkin pocket to find the spare bow string and with it he bound himself against the oak shooting b.u.t.t. 'None will pa.s.s this spot,' he whispered through trembling lips, pulling the string so tight that it cut painfully into his sides. Now his mind would be free to face the Master of Nightmares. No matter how much he wanted to run there was no escape. Grimly he nocked another arrow on to the string and sang Kyot's name aloud as he brought his eyes level with the Master of Nightmares.

'Now, Nightmare, you shall know who is the Keeper of Stumble Hill. By the light that burns on my arm you shall not enter this Wayhouse. It is closed to all your foul kind.'

Krulshards threw the malice back across his shoulder and charged at Archer, a black-bladed spear in his hands. Archer bent the bow until it cried out, and loosed the arrow at the