The hours passed as Miro worked, and as he drew symbol after symbol he tried not to think about what might be happening to Amber at that very moment. The moon went behind a long black cloud and he cursed, forced to stop until it came back out.
His strategy would be simple; this was no time for subterfuge. He would fight his way into the camp, take Amber, and they would flee.
Miro frowned at the sword as he drew the last rune. What was missing? The activation sequence! Miro drew a final matrix close to the hilt, linking it to the other runes with a bridge. There, it was done.
His hand felt cramped and his arm ached as he put the quill down on the log he was using as a table and removed the glove. He had a thought, and looking into the end of the log, he saw it was hollow. Miro decided to leave the items here. He would need to be unencumbered for fighting, and they may come in use again.
Miro screwed the cap back onto the jar and filled the satchel, placing it inside the log.
He picked up the long, straight sword with both hands, looking up and down its length. The steel shone, and even in the moonlight Miro could see the silver symbols along its length.
Should he activate it now, to see if it worked?
As far as he was from the enemy encampment, Miro was hesitant to light up the hills around him in the event his enchantment had been a success. He would have to wait to activate the sword until he was ready to use it.
Ella had impressed on Miro the dangers of an incomplete enchantment. When they were learning, the students had to have every rune checked before they were allowed to move onto the next. Even accomplished enchanters worked with books and other enchanters.
If he'd made a mistake, the sword could fizzle like a candle burned to a stub. Or it could explode in his hands; there was no way to tell.
Miro decided he was as ready as he would ever be.
He took the sword and walked back towards the place marked by the monolithic vats, the place where he'd last seen them take the woman he loved.
35
FINALLY, Miro allowed the rage to come to the surface. Blood throbbed in his ears and his breath came from his throat in a hoarse wheeze. He held the hilt of the sword in a grip of iron, and no longer tried to hide his presence as he walked towards the encampment with long, bold strides.
He saw the vats to his left, which meant the encampment would be somewhere ahead. There were so many of the tents it would be impossible to know which held Amber. Some were large and some were small. The necromancers more than likely slept in rich surrounds. One of the tents more than likely held the Lord of the Night.
Miro passed the first tent. He flicked his wrists and the sword sliced through the canvas wall, tearing a hole. Miro stepped through.
"What…?"
He was obviously a necromancer, and had been sleeping. Miro recognised the light hair and grey eyes of one of the Akari. The necromancer blinked at Miro in confusion.
Miro opened the necromancer's throat with a quick thrust of his right arm. Blood fountained from the necromancer's neck and his eyes went impossibly wide. He clutched at his throat with both hands, gurgling and writhing, and then he was still.
Miro walked back out the way he had come in. He listened, cocking his head. No alarm had been raised.
All of a sudden, it started to rain.
The sky opened and water came down in thick, heavy droplets. The darkness closed in, and the tents became dim shapes, confused and ethereal. Thunder rumbled overhead, and Miro was instantly soaked to the skin.
Miro peered through the vertical lines of water. For the time being, he kept his sword inactive.
He strode forward until he came to another tent, larger this time. He cut through the side with three successive slashes and stepped in.
Torches rested against the supporting poles, lighting the space up and allowing Miro to see the horror within.
Two necromancers in silver robes hovered over a wooden table. A pile of corpses lay in one corner of the room, while two revenant guards stood just inside the door.
On the table was the body of a Gokani soldier. His chest had been laid bare and silver symbols covered one side of his chest.
The necromancers turned in surprise.
Miro's arms came up, and holding the sword in both hands, he cut down at the neck of the closest robed figure. Even as the man fell Miro spun on his heel and thrust into the second necromancers' chest, feeling the sword bite through bone.
Miro withdrew the sword as the revenants came at him.
They were barbarian warriors, huge armoured men, taller even than Miro, with broad shoulders and heavy broadswords.
Miro had waited until now to activate his sword, but he could wait no longer. "Shekular," he named the rune.