Uthas gripped his spear, unsure whether to attack or retreat, the knowledge that Rath was still behind gnawing at him. How close? He took a step forwards then paused as more wolven charged out of the trees, attacking indiscriminately.
If we stay here we will die; we must fight free. He strode forwards, Salach defending him on his left. Giants and men and wolven were everywhere, a heaving mass. Kai’s mangled body lay on the ground, throat torn out. Nearby, Struan was surrounded, swinging his axe at half a dozen human attackers. I must help him. I have spent so long grooming them, preparing them. An arrow flew out of nowhere and sank into his shoulder, the impact rocking him. He looked about, saw two figures crouched amongst the trees, both with bows in their hands. He moved, feeling another arrow whistle past his face.
‘It is too late; this battle is already lost,’ Salach said, gripping his arm. ‘You cannot save them. We must leave.’
Struan had fallen to one knee, warriors about him stabbing and slashing.
Uthas bellowed in frustration, then saw Eisa locked in combat with a wolven. He said her name and charged, Salach following, sending his axe whistling into the spine of the wolven Eisa was fighting. Uthas grabbed her arm, pulling her. Then they were running for the trees.
Something made him pause – an invisible change in the air about him, a pressure emanating from the glade behind.
The earth power. Someone uses it.
He turned and scanned the glade, his eyes drawn to two of the humans. They were standing together, a man and woman, both gripping a broken branch. As Uthas watched, he heard them speak a word in his tongue, and the branch burst into flames.
He felt the great anger stir within him, looking at these men, these upstarts, destroyers of his people, stealers of his land and the life he had lived.
And now they were thieving the giants’ greatest treasure. The earth power. He had taught Rhin something of it, but she was different, was his key to the future, to changing the fate of his clan. And she had saved him. These two before him were just vermin, scavengers of a noble order laid low by time and misfortune. Unlike many of his kin he was not ruled by his emotions, was proud of his control amongst a people who were dominated by the great tides of their passion. But as he looked back he felt his walls of self-control crumbling, a rage building until he was consumed with only one thought. Kill these usurpers.
With a snarl, he strode back into the glade.
CHAPTER FIFTY
CORBAN
Corban stood over the body of his mam, too scared to check whether she was alive or dead. Storm was locked in battle with the wolven that had attacked Gwenith; Corban and Gar were searching for an opening to finish the beast. Gar darted forward, stabbing, his blade coming back dark with blood. Then Storm had the wolven by the throat and was shaking it. The other animal’s legs kicked, weakened, then went limp.
Corban caught a glimpse of Halion, Marrock and Farrell circling a giant, the hulking warrior bleeding from many wounds. Vonn stood before Edana, slashing at a pair of crouched wolven.
There was a crackling sound, a wave of heat and Corban saw Heb holding a burning branch. The old man ran at the wolven stalking Vonn and Edana, brandishing the branch. They crouched low and retreated, snarling. Arrows suddenly sprouted from one.
Camlin and Dath.
A voice rang out in the glade, discordant. It took a moment for Corban to realize the words were being spoken in giantish.
‘Sglamhair, thu rach do fada, truailleadair,’ a giant yelled, taking long strides, rage pulsing from each word.
Heb turned, saw the giant coming for him, stood frozen a moment.
‘Mi riar gun ruith,’ Heb called out and raised the burning branch.
The giant barked a command and the flames snuffed out, smoke curling upwards.
No. He cannot face a spear-wielding giant with a stick. Corban thought. ‘Lasair,’ he cried out as he launched into motion, fear for Heb’s life overwhelming all other thoughts.
The stick in Heb’s hand burst back into flames, fiercer and brighter than before. Heb looked stunned, and the giant’s gaze snapped onto Corban. For a moment he faltered in his charge, the hatred in his gaze a palpable thing. Then Heb smashed the branch into the giant’s face with an explosion of sparks.
The giant howled and snarled, then thrust with his spear. Heb moved, swinging the branch again. Their weapons connected at the same moment, Heb’s burning branch crashing into the giant’s chest, the giant’s spear-blade piercing Heb’s shoulder. He cried out, sinking to his knees as the giant pulled the blade free.
‘No!’ Corban screamed, leaping forwards.
Brina was there before him, lunging at the giant, sinking a knife into his thigh. He bellowed and hurled Brina to the ground. She screamed as the giant buried his spear in Heb’s belly. Blood sprayed as he wrenched it free, Heb toppling sideways. The giant stood over Brina, spear raised high, then a bundle of feathers fell from above, squawking, claws raking at the giant’s face.