Taker Of Skulls (Book 5) (22 page)

They passed cables of living flesh that ran from huge bladders of some leathery material. When Kormak looked closely he could see that the bladders had vestigial eyes and were living creatures themselves, some form of grossly mutated goblin. Clutching the walls were other goblin-like creatures, with massive bloated stomachs and breasts. They looked like certain ants he had seen in a broken hill, whose bodies had been turned into great receptacles to hold food for their kindred.

As had happened so often in the past, when he was confronted by the work of the Old Ones, he felt an oppressive sense of the vast, alien strangeness of their knowledge. They had forgotten more than men had learned in all their history, and they had bent that knowledge to many awful purposes.

Graghur looked like the meanest of monsters but it was a shape he had chosen for himself when he could look like anything he wanted. Here was proof of the depth of his knowledge and the power of his magic. He had created these pits in which monsters were being born and Kormak had no idea why. He might have been creating an army or simply probing the secrets of life, the way some alchemists did. When Graghur died all this knowledge would be removed from the world. So much had been lost already and Kormak had been responsible for some of the destruction. If he lived he would be responsible for more.

Even if he won, he would not change the fact that compared to Graghur he was an insect. To the Old Ones, he was like one of those biting flies that spread the plague. He felt very small. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed slaying the Eldrim.

Somehow he did not feel like telling Karnea that.

They made their way across the huge chamber, moving slowly, treading quietly. Kormak saw the distant shadowy figures of several great goblins hauling barrels to the pools and dumping their contents into the murky fluid.

He wished they had half a dozen good bowmen. He could have killed all the goblins swiftly, but ranged weapons were not something dwarves were good with. They seemed to rely on war engines and explosives. Explosives they had but those would only give away their position to the sharp-eared goblins.

They passed another pit. This one held a less well-developed inhabitant. It did not have any skin as yet, merely muscle and vein. It looked as if it had been flayed alive. It did not move. Perhaps it was dead or dormant. They moved beyond one of the huge bladder creatures. Its stomach expanded and distended. Something pulsed through the flesh cable leading from it to the nearest pool.

Ferik wrinkled his nose. His beard twitched, tendrils writhing. “I smell Utti,” he said.

Kormak looked at him astonished. The dwarf must have a nose like a bloodhound. “How can you smell anything over this stink?”

“How can you not?”

“You can lead us to him?”

“Yes. Given time.”

“And the fact we will have to find our way through an army of goblins.”

Ferik let his beard touch the floor. “There are several hundred. They took a lot of casualties at the gates of the Dwarfhold. Graghur has not had time to breed more.”

“That’s all right then. The ten of us should be more than enough to see off a mere few hundred,” Kormak said.

“I like your attitude, man,” Ferik said. Kormak wondered whether the dwarves had any word for irony in their language. “But we will need to be cunning and strike by stealth. I catch a whiff of the Eldrim now. He is ahead of us, I am guessing in the great central chamber. It is the heart of the mine. I used to play there when I was a lad.”

They passed another pit. In this one was a monstrous goblin centaur, a hybrid of Yellow Eye and a great dire wolf. It looked awake. Its eyes glared back at him ferociously and it began to reach out. A huge hand emerged from the fluid. Kormak stepped back, readying his axe.

The monster dragged itself up and out and gave a great gurgling cough, spraying fluid through the air, splattering everything nearby. It snarled revealing shark-like teeth and reached for him with long sharp claws.

“So much for being stealthy,” Ferik said. He lashed out at the monster with his axe. Boreas leapt forward, hitting it with his hammer and over-balancing it back into the pit. Kormak could see some of the great goblins looking around, attracted by the noise.

Sasha cursed, raised her stonethrower and fired a runestone at them. The explosion hurled the goblins through the air, garments alight, flesh torn. One of them tumbled into a pool. The fluid bubbled and another massive figure erupted from it, something that looked like a monstrous goblin body with the head of an octopus. It grabbed a goblin and dragged the screaming creature towards its maw.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Ferik. They raced through the archway and found themselves in a huge central chamber. It was at the bottom of an enormous pit, with makeshift elevators, running up and down the sides. Around the edges were scores of archways just like the one they had come through. Kormak guessed they represented other galleries running off into the depths. Metal railings for carts, and enormous slag piles rearing beside them reinforced that conclusion.

In the centre of the chamber, on a monstrous throne, lolled the gigantic form of Graghur. In front of him, dressed in a motley, with a ball and chain on his leg was Utti. As they entered Graghur looked up and smiled.

“What is this?” he asked in a booming voice that echoed through the caverns. “Visitors? And we have not prepared a feast to welcome them! Well, no matter, they shall provide the feast themselves.”

He laughed and then threw back his head and howled. Hundreds of chittering, squeaking calls answered him. From a dozen of the entrances goblins poured. Half a dozen wolves, including the giant one that Graghur had used as a steed erupted as if from a pit at his feet. More goblin voices sounded from above them.

If they waited, they would simply be overwhelmed. There was nothing to do but attack now. Kormak raised the axe and charged. The others were right behind him.

A few missiles arced down from galleries above them. The goblins had not yet had time to realise that only a few intruders were attacking them. Darts clattered to the ground near Kormak but most of them fell behind him.

Laughing Graghur bounded towards him, brandishing a weapon in each of his four hands. Kormak recognised one of them as his own blade. He was surprised the Old One had the nerve to carry it. The wolves and their giant pack leader were right behind Graghur. Squads of goblins raced to join the fray.

Kormak and Graghur crossed blades. The Old One was fast and incredibly strong and Kormak was far less used to wielding an axe than a sword. It was all he could do to parry Graghur’s blows.

Boreas leapt into the fray, dwarf maul smashing down, taking advantage of the Old One’s concentration on Kormak. The force of the blow sent Graghur reeling back. The links on his chainmail coat were broken.

Graghur laughed madly as if the pain only amused him. Perhaps it did. Kormak had met Old Ones who chose to feel pain as pleasure and pleasure as pain. Graghur bounced back, slashing at Boreas with his scimitar. Boreas parried it, but a blow from Kormak’s own runeblade cut through the big man’s armour and sliced his flesh. Blood poured from the open wound and Boreas fell to the ground.

A howling pack of wolves raced forward. Flame belched from the nostrils of their leader. One of Sasha’s runestones impacted in the middle of them. The lesser wolves howled as the blast bowled them over and set light to their fur. The leader kept on coming, immune to the effect of the fire blast.

Utti raised the ball and chain attached to his ankle. He started to swing it as a weapon. Kormak could not decide whether he was intending to attack the interlopers or Graghur with it. Maybe the dwarf could not decide himself. Ferik made up his mind for him, charging at Utti, yelling, “Die traitor!”

Utti whirled the massive metal ball around, but Ferik was too fast for him, pouncing like a springing tiger, rolling under the spinning ball and smashing his axe into Utti’s leg. Utti overbalanced, pulled down by the weight of his own improvised weapon. Overcome with rage, Ferik dropped his axe and wrapped his hands around Utti’s throat. He began to twist.

Kormak leapt forward striking at Graghur again. The Old One parried effortlessly with one of his scimitars. Kormak struck again and this time the Old One did as he had hoped and parried with Kormak’s own sword. Kormak hooked it with the blade of his axe and twisted, wrenching it free from Graghur’s grip and sending it flying off through the air. He barely had time to leap back before the Old One’s counter-attack almost beheaded him.

“I see your plan, human,” said Graghur. “You seek to take back the gift my friend Utti brought me and use it against me. Very clever but it will not work.”

The Old One attacked like a four armed whirlwind. A storm of blades blew around Kormak. He ducked and weaved and parried desperately and still he bled from a dozen cuts. His arms, legs and sides burned and he was not sure whether he had taken a major wound or not. Sometimes it took seconds, even minutes to feel the full pain of such.

He could not find any space to launch a counter-attack, and even if he had been able to, it would not have mattered. Graghur was berserk and he did not fear the axe Kormak carried. He could take a wound from it and know he would not die. His own blades would chop Kormak to pieces.

Out of the corner of his eyes Kormak saw goblins pouring down the walls from the caves above. The great wolf bounded passed him to seek out Sasha. Mankri and the others were surrounded by a horde of foes. As the wolf breathed fire, Karnea stepped into the flames. She did not burn. The flame formed a halo around her and then vanished as if breathed in by a dragon. The runic armlet burned brightly on her arm, glowing more intensely as it absorbed more energy.

Karnea spoke the name of the rune. A symbol of flame, exactly the same as the one on her arm, appeared between her outstretched hands. The sorceress spoke the name again and its glow intensified. More and more fire was being drawn from the wolf. It shrivelled and shrank until it was utterly gone, all of its blazing life force absorbed. Then Karnea spoke the name of the rune for a third time. The luminous symbol hovering before her flickered through the air towards Graghur.

Kormak had barely enough time to look away and doing so almost got him killed. He only managed to get his axe clumsily in the way of one of Graghur’s scimitars. The force of the stroke cut through the haft and sent the blade
thunking
down into Kormak’s chest. The impact knocked him off his feet and below the strike of Graghur’s other attacks. The pain was shocking and Kormak wondered what was broken.

He rolled away just as the flame-rune exploded. Tentacles of fire lashed out at Graghur and his followers. The flash was visible even through his closed eyelids. Goblins screamed. Dwarves cursed. Graghur wailed as if burned. Kormak rolled, side still aching, to where his sword had fallen. He reached out and his fingers closed on its familiar hilt. A savage snarl twisted his lips. New strength flooded into him as he rose to his feet.

He raced forward towards Graghur once again. The Old One’s skin was blackened. Smoke rose from his hide. His eyes emitted huge green tears. He cast one of his scimitars. It turned end over end and buried itself in Karnea’s chest. She fell to the ground, eyes wide open, blood dribbling from her lips. Graghur turned to face Kormak now. His eyes widened in horror when he saw what Kormak held in his hands. He took a step backward even as Kormak ran at him.

Kormak’s attacks had far greater speed and fluidity than they had when he was wielding an axe, and the Old One flinched away from them, knowing what would happen if the blade bit into his flesh. He wielded both his scimitars with great speed and skill but now he fought defensively, calling out for help in the chittering language of the goblins.

A wave of the small creatures threw themselves forward, interposing themselves between the Guardian and their king. Kormak chopped them down and kept going, determined to put an end to Graghur if it was the last thing he did. He forced thoughts of Karnea from his mind. There was no time no to try and treat her wounds. She might already be dead. He could not afford for his concentration to slip while he battled the Old One.

Kormak and Graghur fought their way to the edge of the cavern, to where one of the elevators stood. It was operated manually by turning a wheel connected to a system of cogs and cables. Graghur leapt onto the platform and began to turn the wheel. The lift rose rapidly as he exerted his great strength. Kormak sprang forward onto the platform, but Graghur timed his counterstroke to perfection. The force of the blow sent Kormak spinning to the ground. The goblins swarmed forward, scratching, biting, stabbing.

Kormak rose to his feet, shrugging off his smaller attackers, ignoring his wounds. Graghur was still rising. The elevator platform was higher than Kormak’s head now. He leapt once again, while Graghur’s attention was on the wheel. The outstretched fingers of his left hand reached the bottom of the platform, gained purchase. He could not pull himself up one handed though and he did not want to let go of his blade. Having lost it once, he was not about to do so again.

Graghur brought one heavy, hob-nailed boot down on his fingers, Kormak dropped once more, falling atop a pile of goblins, lashing out and slicing them. Graghur’s booming laughter rang out once more as he rose above the battle and out of Kormak’s reach. Kormak cursed.

Something blazing passed overhead. An explosion sounded. Sasha had unleashed a runestone at the lift platform. The impact left it splintered and aflame but Graghur continued to rise, seemingly impervious to the flames. His mocking laughter echoed through the caves, then he looked up and noticed that the rope too was on fire.

A moment later it snapped, sending the whole blazing platform crashing back down towards the bottom of the cavern directly on top of Kormak. It descended like a meteor. Graghur howled with pain as the flames licked at his steadily blackening flesh. Kormak threw himself to one side as the platform impacted on the hard stone, sending sparks and splinters of burning wood flying everywhere.