Part 29 (1/2)

Krulshards laughed at her, pus.h.i.+ng her aside as he opened up the malice. 'Magicians cannot help you, Thanehand cannot help. I take what I please! I am the Master of Elundium!' With a sneer of satisfaction he thrust Martbel back into the daylight. Stumbling forward, the b.l.o.o.d.y torn hems of her skirts wetting the granite dust, she fell into Elionbel's arms. Her mouth was trembling, her eyes were wide with terror.

Krulshards reached out for Elionbel, a cruel snarl on his lips, but before his fingers could touch her the ground shook and a piercing cry tore the shadows apart. Pure blinding light spilled out of Candlebane Hall across the cobbles. Krulshards screamed as the light entered his malice, burning into his face. Turning, he fled scrambling down the nearest siege ladder.

Elionbel stood her ground, the light edging her cloak in blue and gold. 'Even the bones of Elundium cry out against what you have done!' she shouted as the Nightmare dragged her after him. 'Elundium will have its revenge, and I shall be its sword maiden, I swear it!' she cried, tumbling down the ladder, bruising her s.h.i.+ns on the rough granite rubble as she

landed on the ground.

'I may not have taken the inner circle of this city but I have planted something more powerful and awesome here in its ruins. Come,' commanded Krulshards, pulling at the life thread. 'We travel a secret wild road back to the City of Night.

A road that is safe from roving bands of Marchers or columns of Gallopers seeking revenge for all that I have destroyed.'

'Master!' Kerzolde gasped, climbing breathlessly over the

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rubble and falling at the Nightmare's feet, 'Thanehand has reached Woodsedge. He is on my heels and behind him on the road is the Marcher we trapped with the nightmesh.'

'Thanehand?' the Nightmare snarled, staring back across the ruins at what was once the beginnings of the green winding road to Underfall. For a moment fear crossed his cruel face and the life thread tightened on Elionbel and Martbel's throats then he laughed, spitting out fine trails of saliva on to the front of his malice. 'He will never find us, Captainbeast. Look, the ground is spoiled and trodden black for leagues around the city. There is nothing here to tell the Gallopersp.a.w.n of our pa.s.sing. We leave no waymark save the destruction of the city!'

'Thane is alive and he will find us, Nightmare!' Elionbel shouted defiantly.

Krulshards turned fiercely on Elionbel. 'You are lost for ever, Marcherwoman, lost in my darkness. There is no-one left to search for you. Thanehand is dead!'

'He is alive. I heard that foul, broken-clawed beast speak his name. He will never stop searching for us, no matter how dark the road.'

'Quiet, Marcherwoman,' Krulshards hissed, shrugging his shoulders against Elionbel's whisperings as he summoned his Nightbeast army into a great shadow that covered the lower ruins of the city. Lifting his arms he spread the malice and waited for silence. 'Nigh/beasts!' he cried, thrusting a bone black finger towards the trampled Greenway. 'You have taken the Granite City and made it yours, go now into all Elundium and spread my darkness. Render everything that loves the daylight into ruins, but while you travel, sweeping as a black tide, search carefully for one called Thanehand, and if you find him bring him to the City of Night, for he is mine, mine alone to destroy!'

Amidst the roar and rattle of Nightbeast armour the black shadowy army spread out beyond the city. Kerzolde and his brother jostled Elionbel and Martbel to follow the Master of

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Nightbeasts into the wild lands beyond the outer edges of the Granite City and they vanished without a trace on the heels of the billowing malice, for Kerzolde and Kerhunge were careful

that nothing was dropped as a wayrnark for Thanehand.

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3.

The Battle Crescent is Formed

Tombel raised his hand and with a single twist of his armoured gloves he halted the swift column of marching men.

Without further command, the warriors unsheathed their broad, double-edged swords and drove them point first into the soft edges of the Greenway. Removing their metal helms they laid them, emblems facing inward, on the short cropped gra.s.s and knelt in respect as the slow-moving Archer funeral pa.s.sed between them. Tombel saw Kyot leading the strike of Archers that followed the funeral litter, each bowman with an arrow necked lightly on to the string.

'Whom do you bury?' Tombel asked in a whisper, falling in step with the young Archer.

'My father lies on the litter of oiled bows,' he answered grey-faced with grief. 'He defended this Wayhouse alone against Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts, and paid cruelly with his life!'

-'Then the Nightmare is before us on the road!' Tombel gasped, looking up at the sinking sun.