Vespasian felt the same chill grasp at his feet as when he had faced druids before; the malevolent aura enshrouding them began to slip over him, his terror mounted and he could not move. To either side of him Sabinus and Magnus were also rooted to the spot.
Alienus was brought forward and the chanting began; he looked around in dread, struggling feebly, his body weak and emaciated from his long captivity. ‘It was Theron,’ he shouted at the brothers. ‘They said it was Theron who told them where I was and where you lived; kill him for me.’
The yet-to-be-Myrddin interrupted his chanting to laugh. ‘Yes, it was Theron who told us your whereabouts when he returned to Britannia in the summer; we had been watching out for him for a long time. He told us what we wanted to know with very little persuasion and then Heylel feasted on his skin; so it’s too late to claim vengeance on him — even if you could.’
Alienus was brought to the fish pond at the centre of the garden; the chant rose and Vespasian watched appalled, unable to move as if a force, unseen, willed him to stay still. He tried to lift a foot but it felt as if it were made from freezing lead. Alienus’ head was pulled back and, as before with the young girl in the Vale of Sullis, something was stuffed into his mouth, which was then clamped shut whilst his nostrils were squeezed.
Alienus’ body shook in weak defiance but he had not the strength to resist; soon he swallowed and, an instant later, convulsed. His mouth and nose were freed and immediately shot forth torrents of blood; blood oozed from his eyes and trickled from his ears. Blood flowed like urine from his penis and exploded from his anus in great bursts, splattering the lower areas of the druids’ robes. His head rolled back and he called in terror to the heavens, his cry dulled by the crimson mist that sprayed from his mouth as the blood drowned his gorge. His legs buckled and his captors released him to fall into the pond, jerking and twitching.
With a massive effort of will, Vespasian fought against the cold fear gripping his heart and rendering his body immobile as Clementina was brought forward to the pond.
‘Pray to your god!’ he managed to say. ‘Cogidubnus and Yosef both defeated the druids using the power of their gods; we must do the same.’
Vespasian heard Sabinus intone a prayer to Mithras whilst he invoked his guardian god, Mars, praying that he spare him for the destiny foretold at his birth; Magnus clenched his thumb and spat repeatedly. Clementina shrieked as the pond water churned and the body was sucked under briefly before it shot back up and stood, with its feet just below the surface, bellowing guttural malevolence.
With each prayer he offered, Vespasian felt the cold power gripping him lessen and became aware again of the knife in his hand.
The druids’ chant continued and the name of ‘Heylel’ could now be distinguished.
Alienus’ head turned to face Clementina, rotating well past his shoulder before his body moved to catch it up. The druids released Clementina but she did not run; she could not run. She stared wide-eyed at the bloodless corpse before her that was now the vessel for a god of unspeakable malice and wrath.
And its wrath was fuelled by its hunger.
With preternatural speed, the god grabbed Clementina’s right wrist. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream. Sabinus cried out, imploring Mithras to hold his hands over his wife. Vespasian managed a step forward, raising his knife. The god outstretched its hands and pulled them down Clementina’s right arm; although there was no sign of claws at the end of the fingers, they shredded her flesh, flaying her as easily as skinning a ripe fig. Now she found her voice and it conveyed the full horror of helplessly watching her skin being torn away.
The druids continued their chant, their voices growing more powerful as the god’s strength grew.
Sabinus wept, still rooted to the floor; Vespasian, praying with all his will to Mars, managed another couple of steps forward. Magnus continued spitting and clenching his thumb.
Another shriek as the god stuffed the gore-dripping feast into its mouth with a bass rumble of pleasure and then seized Clementina’s other arm with one pale hand whilst slashing the other across her face with hideous effect.
Vespasian forced his foot onward another pace; Clementina’s screams and the horror being inflicted on her filled his senses so that he hardly registered the flashing iron that spun in from the right-hand side of the garden. So fast did it fly that it seemed a knife simply materialised in the yet-to-be-Myrddin’s temple; his eyes widened with shock and his chant abruptly ceased. His four colleagues continued, unaware of the reason for their leader’s swaying. A massive roar followed the knife and drew the druids’ attention as the yet-to-be-Myrddin fell forward onto his knees; Sextus catapulted himself off the sloping roof of the colonnade to land with a body-roll in the garden. The chant faltered, the god thundered its filth, Clementina wailed in agony but the spell was broken. The chant ceased. Forward dashed Vespasian, Sabinus and Magnus as Sextus came barrelling in from the right. The druids did not run; they did not even raise their arms to defend themselves; they picked up the chant but too late. Sextus piled into two of them, sending them sprawling with a splash to the blood-puddled ground with him on top, stabbing with his knife at a speed that belied his lumbering ways, and adding to the gore already spattered about. With a straight arm, Vespasian powered his blade through the left eye of his adversary as Magnus ripped the throat from his with a shower of blood, severing his long beard.
Sabinus thrust his sword into the small of the god’s back; it roared, its mouth full of flayed skin; it turned to face its attacker, pulling the embedded sword from his grasp. Freed from her tormentor, Clementina slumped to the ground bleeding from hideous wounds. Vespasian glanced down at her before launching himself at the husk of Alienus as it struck out at Sabinus, knocking him far back as if suddenly dragged by an invisible rope. Vespasian’s blade sliced through pallid flesh into the ribcage; no blood flowed or even seeped; the body was devoid of it. The god turned to him and spewed obscenities, loose skin falling from its mouth; Vespasian thrust again with his knife, piercing the shoulder but doing no harm to the lifeless body as Magnus and Sextus joined him facing the terror. They all three attacked at once and with a wild swipe of its pale arm the husk of Alienus smashed them aside, breaking both its forearm bones so that the hand hung at an impossible angle.
Its head turned, surveying each of them on the ground in turn; the dead eyes had vision and staring at their lifeless gaze Vespasian realised how to put an end to such a monstrosity. ‘The head! We must get the head!’ he shouted. ‘I need to grab that sword.’
Magnus understood immediately and picked himself up as the god stepped out of the pond, its eyes rolling and the ground shaking beneath it. ‘Sextus, take the left!’
Sextus nodded, his breathing laboured; he sprang forward at the same time as his leader, each in a different direction as Vespasian circled around the dead druids and the crumpled body of Clementina to get behind the god.
Using its shattered forearm as a club, the god pounded Sextus’ chin, sending him into the air, back arching and arms flailing. Vespasian leapt forward as Magnus landed a knife wound to the unfeeling thigh of what had been Alienus. Vespasian grabbed the sword and, raising his foot to brace himself against the god’s buttock, wrenched it free as Sabinus charged back in and the god rumbled out its hatred.