But the werewolf did not let go of the axe. He lifted Doric from the floor, shaking the handle in an attempt to dislodge him. Then, with a second howl of frustration, he released the axe and sent Doric spinning toward the wall.
The dwarf felt glass and crockery break as he smashed against a tall dresser and fell to the floor. The dresser tottered and shuddered above him and he rolled away as it crashed over, knocking Bryant on his side.
The dwarf knew he needed help. With a single deft swing of his axe, he cut Bryant’s restraints, breaking the back of the chair and giving the peon the slack he needed to get himself free.
“Run and get help, lad! Go!”
Bryant obeyed Doric’s command, pulling out the small dagger that he always kept on his person to cut through his remaining bonds. The werewolf had not even bothered to search him after his kidnapping, so confident was he of his control.
And then he was free!
He ran straight for the door, ignoring the sounds of the fight behind him, ignoring everything as Doric was thrown back against the table, upsetting the sole candle and plunging the room into darkness.
The peon had escaped, but the monster cared not. He had Theodore and he only needed a short time to wrest free the information he needed.
“Can you see as well as me in the dark, dwarf?” the werewolf sneered. His own eyes worked perfectly, watching Doric as he stood wearily against the far wall, gasping for breath. He focused on the dwarf’s eyes, wondering how long it would take for them to adjust to the complete darkness.
Doric could barely see anything, but while he waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the sudden blackness, he sensed the monster’s rush toward him. Instinctively he raised his axe and made to step back, but his enemy had all the advantages now.
With a quick grab it seized Doric’s axe with one hand and punched him hard in the face with the other. The axe was pulled from his grasp and thrown to the other side of the room. Doric tasted blood, and he couldn’t hope to avoid the monstrous hand which seized him by his mail shirt and hurled him head first into the wall.
His helmet provided some protection and, still conscious, Doric stood, his hand reaching for the last hand-axe that hung on his belt.
“I can smell your blood, dwarf,” the creature taunted. “Now I shall end your misery!”
Doric had little strength left to fight, and with a savage look in his eyes he lay back against the wall.
Let it end, he thought grimly, but I promise you that you’ll lose a few more teeth.
His hand-axe felt suddenly very small.
Bryant fled into the alley, and ran straight into Kara. He saw the anger in her eyes and inadvertently stepped back, pointing toward the house as he reached for the mare’s flank, preparing to pull himself into the saddle.
“It’s the monster! It’s inside with Theodore and the dwarf!” he cried.
“Take the horse and get help, Bryant,” she instructed.
Bryant nodded, too weak with fear and blood loss to argue. He climbed into the mare’s saddle and turned her away from the house, leaving Kara outside.
“Saradomin bless you!” he called as the mare began to trot away from the house. When he looked back, she had vanished, and the sounds of fighting had ceased.
He had gone only twenty yards when a voice hailed him in the darkness.
“Bryant? Is that you, worthy peon?”
He recognised the man’s tunic, the four-pointed star visible on his white robe. The knight’s face was hidden by a battered cloak that swirled around him as it was buffeted by the wind.
“It is I, sir!” Bryant said, dismounting and moving forward to make out the man’s face.
“Come, Bryant!” The man reached out and grabbed the youngster by the shoulder, herding him into the darkness of an alleyway.
“But Squire Theodore…” he protested, suddenly on edge.
“I know!” came the reply. “Help is at hand. Now come on!”
THIRTY-FOUR
Kara was silent as she entered the room. She could hear Doric’s groans, and the padded feet of an adversary stalking her in the darkness.
“A girl? They send a girl to fight me?” he sneered, and the voice was like that of an animal. She had never heard anything quite like it.
She said nothing, her dark eyes peering into the blackness around her.
The monster laughed, a deep, throaty sound. She guessed that he could see in the darkness as well as any human could in daylight.
“I have bested a squire and a seasoned dwarf tonight, my dear,” he taunted from the safety of the shadows. “But I shall enjoy hurting you more than any of the others.”
Kara stepped back toward the door as if she suddenly meant to run. As she did, she heard the monster move closer.
“Theodore? Are you all right?” She kept her voice steady.
The squire groaned, and she could tell that he was gagged.
“Run, girl,” Doric urged.
“I came for Theodore” she replied calmly. “I will not leave without him.”
Standing a few paces away, the monster was puzzled. He recognised the scent of fear on humans, knew what it did to people. But here, in this house, he sensed that this slight girl was totally unafraid.
Suddenly the girl stepped boldly forward, her sword held before her. The monster ducked backward, circling to stand a single pace behind her.
How to do it? he pondered, and licked his lips. Many decades earlier, his mother had taught him not to play with his food, telling him that he would be burnt by a mage or cut with a holy blade if he did so. But she had died a long time ago, and this girl who stepped blithely into the room did not know what manner of creature he was.
He decided to play.
He leaned forward, a claw hovering an inch from her skin.
The girl struck.
She spun on her heel, driving her blade into his body with all her strength, forcing it through the tough skin that had protected him from all manner of human weapons over the years.
He screamed with pain, his eyes widening as he felt his own blood pour from a deep wound and stream onto the wooden floor of the house. He reached down and grasped the blade with both hands, pulling it from his body, the sword’s edges slicing deeply into his palms.
His strength was greater than hers, and she could not impale him further. So the girl stepped back and pulled the blade free, leaving two of his twitching fingers on the floor as she did so. Once again he screamed.
But still the girl hadn’t finished her dreadful work. She brought the sword over her head and into his face.
At the same time he made for the doorway, knowing now that it was his turn to run. As he did so, the sword tip sliced across his forehead, severing his left ear. His hot blood flowed freely into his eyes as he fled into the alley, his hands pressed against his stomach to staunch the wound.
He ignored the few onlookers he passed, his face revealed now for all to see: the face of the werewolf. None dared to stand in his way, for no guard or peon was willing to confront him at the gates to the city.
Within a short time he was away from Falador, back out in the countryside, nursing his wounds in a deep hollow a good distance from any road, away from the eyes of men.
By the dim light that filtered in through the door, Kara released Theodore, while Doric retrieved his axe. The dwarf pulled a match from his cloak and held it up, giving them some more light.
“How did you do that, Kara?” the squire asked in shock.
“She can see in the darkness,” Doric said.
Kara smiled wickedly.
“You are right, master dwarf” she said in his own language. “I have spent more time underground in the darkness of the mountains than above. My eyes have grown accustomed to seeing in darker places than this.”