over,' Sebastian shouted back. 'He's finished, let him go!'
The general took one last despairing look across a battlefield littered with dead and dying Gograth. He gave a final roar of defiance, then turned and fled towards the smoke.
Cornelius struggled to free himself from Sebastian's grasp, but the elfling hung on tight and they both watched as General Darvon flung himself through the wall of smoke and disappeared from sight.
'You bloody fool!' roared Cornelius. 'You've let him escape. We could have finished him!'
But Sebastian shook his head. He released his friend and gestured around him. 'He is finished,' he said. 'Look.'
Cornelius gazed around at the devastation: the piles of sprawled bodies, the pools of blood thinning in the rain, the lifeless eyes staring towards the dark-grey sky. He opened his mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail him. His eyes widened and a look of profound shock came over his features, as if he were seeing the scene for the first time.
'Shadlog's teeth,' he whispered at last. He got to his feet and continued to stare at the battlefield.
The dead must have numbered into the hundreds. Here and there, Jilith warriors were moving through the fallen men, finishing off those who were still breathing. As far as Sebastian could tell, the Jilith had lost fewer than a dozen men. He saw Keera walking across the battlefield. Her face was bloody but she seemed unharmed. She lifted a hand and waved to him.
'You did it, Cornelius,' he said quietly. 'You destroyed them, just as you said you would. Perhaps you truly are a general.'
But Cornelius was still staring around at the carnage. Sebastian saw, with a stab of shock, that the little warrior's eyes were filling with tears.
'Cornelius?' he said. 'Is something wrong?'
Cornelius shook his head. 'It's the smoke from the fire,' he said; and he turned and walked away through the falling rain, picking his way carefully through the lifeless bodies.
Sebastian stared after him, then turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Max was approaching, pulling the heavy war wagon behind him. His rusa-hide armour was literally bristling with arrows, making him look like an oversized hedgehog.
'So it doesn't blooming rain here . . .' said Max. He shook his head, flinging droplets of water in all directions. 'That's a good one. What does he call this then – light refreshment?' He glanced around. 'What's up with little britches, anyway? I saw him walking off as though he'd found five croats and lost ten. He should be celebrating his great victory.'
Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. 'I think he got a bit of a shock when he saw how many we'd killed.'
'What did he think we were doing with them, reading 'em bedtime stories?' Max was clearly overexcited by his recent experiences. 'How did you do, young master? I did pretty well myself. I had meant to keep count, but it got a bit confusing out there and I stopped after thirty or so.'
Sebastian turned to Max and rubbed him fondly on the head. 'Thirty, eh? I didn't get anything like as many as that. You're not injured then?'
'In about twenty places, but I don't like to make a fuss. This armour isn't as tough as Cornelius said it would be. Typical. But then, they never tell you the truth, these generals. That's how they get people like me to follow them.' He licked his lips. 'I could do with a drink though.'
'I'll find you some water,' suggested Sebastian.
'Water?' Max looked offended. 'After a battle like that, I would have thought a bowl of icara would be more in order.'
Sebastian smiled. 'I'll see what I can do,' he said. 'Come on, old shaggy.'
And they started back towards the village.
PART TWO
THE QUEST
C HAPTER 11
THE LEAVING
The small expedition was ready to leave and the villagers had come out of their huts to bid them farewell. Sebastian, Cornelius and Max stood on the outskirts of the village with the other members of their
The general took one last despairing look across a battlefield littered with dead and dying Gograth. He gave a final roar of defiance, then turned and fled towards the smoke.
Cornelius struggled to free himself from Sebastian's grasp, but the elfling hung on tight and they both watched as General Darvon flung himself through the wall of smoke and disappeared from sight.
'You bloody fool!' roared Cornelius. 'You've let him escape. We could have finished him!'
But Sebastian shook his head. He released his friend and gestured around him. 'He is finished,' he said. 'Look.'
Cornelius gazed around at the devastation: the piles of sprawled bodies, the pools of blood thinning in the rain, the lifeless eyes staring towards the dark-grey sky. He opened his mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail him. His eyes widened and a look of profound shock came over his features, as if he were seeing the scene for the first time.
'Shadlog's teeth,' he whispered at last. He got to his feet and continued to stare at the battlefield.
The dead must have numbered into the hundreds. Here and there, Jilith warriors were moving through the fallen men, finishing off those who were still breathing. As far as Sebastian could tell, the Jilith had lost fewer than a dozen men. He saw Keera walking across the battlefield. Her face was bloody but she seemed unharmed. She lifted a hand and waved to him.
'You did it, Cornelius,' he said quietly. 'You destroyed them, just as you said you would. Perhaps you truly are a general.'
But Cornelius was still staring around at the carnage. Sebastian saw, with a stab of shock, that the little warrior's eyes were filling with tears.
'Cornelius?' he said. 'Is something wrong?'
Cornelius shook his head. 'It's the smoke from the fire,' he said; and he turned and walked away through the falling rain, picking his way carefully through the lifeless bodies.
Sebastian stared after him, then turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Max was approaching, pulling the heavy war wagon behind him. His rusa-hide armour was literally bristling with arrows, making him look like an oversized hedgehog.
'So it doesn't blooming rain here . . .' said Max. He shook his head, flinging droplets of water in all directions. 'That's a good one. What does he call this then – light refreshment?' He glanced around. 'What's up with little britches, anyway? I saw him walking off as though he'd found five croats and lost ten. He should be celebrating his great victory.'
Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. 'I think he got a bit of a shock when he saw how many we'd killed.'
'What did he think we were doing with them, reading 'em bedtime stories?' Max was clearly overexcited by his recent experiences. 'How did you do, young master? I did pretty well myself. I had meant to keep count, but it got a bit confusing out there and I stopped after thirty or so.'
Sebastian turned to Max and rubbed him fondly on the head. 'Thirty, eh? I didn't get anything like as many as that. You're not injured then?'
'In about twenty places, but I don't like to make a fuss. This armour isn't as tough as Cornelius said it would be. Typical. But then, they never tell you the truth, these generals. That's how they get people like me to follow them.' He licked his lips. 'I could do with a drink though.'
'I'll find you some water,' suggested Sebastian.
'Water?' Max looked offended. 'After a battle like that, I would have thought a bowl of icara would be more in order.'
Sebastian smiled. 'I'll see what I can do,' he said. 'Come on, old shaggy.'
And they started back towards the village.
PART TWO
THE QUEST
C HAPTER 11
THE LEAVING
The small expedition was ready to leave and the villagers had come out of their huts to bid them farewell. Sebastian, Cornelius and Max stood on the outskirts of the village with the other members of their
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