She stared through the smoke. A group of Sumnians were engaged in a desperate struggle to fight their way past a similar number of Watchmen. Behind the red-cloaked soldiers lurked an Augmentor. In one hand the man carried a wicked-looking flail, but it was his other hand, the hand he was raising above his head, that caused her heart to skip a beat. There was an ominous glow around the glove covering his fist.
As Sasha watched, the Augmentor hurled a sphere of glowing energy straight at the mercenaries. It struck the earth and exploded, sending white-hot fire blossoming outwards. Once her eyes had cleared, she saw that half the Sumnians had been reduced to smoking corpses. The others immediately fell back, screaming in agony and nursing terrible burns.
She searched around the battlefield. She had discarded her own crossbow a while back. But there, ten feet to her left, she found what she was looking for.
Half staggering, she reached the fallen Watchman and prised the weapon from his dead hands. As luck would have it, it was already loaded. She edged forwards, trying to get close enough for a clear shot. She took another couple of steps and a gap opened up. She raised the crossbow.
At the last moment, one of the Watchmen noticed her. He yelled and pointed. The Augmentor turned and raised his gloved hand.
She pulled the trigger.
This time the explosion knocked her off her feet. There was a deafening roaring in her ears. She tasted blood in her mouth and realized her nose was bleeding. Something smelled of burning. It was her hair. She reached up to touch it. A clump came away in her hand, blackened and singed. But she was still alive.
The Augmentor and those surrounding him were not so fortunate. Struck by her quarrel, the man had misdirected his fireball and launched it at the ground just in front of him. Chunks of flesh and scraps of red cloth sizzled and steamed where the Watchmen had been standing. Nothing remained of the Augmentor but a pair of smoking boots and a puddle some six feet wide.
Sasha stared numbly at the carnage. Then she released her grip on the crossbow and rolled over onto her back to stare up at the clouds overhead. She could hear the sounds of fighting nearby, but she was past caring.
Let them come. She was done.
No one would care if she lived or died. No one apart from Cole and possibly Garrett. And if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t want anything to do with her either. She was a hateful, drug-addled piece of shit. She had deceived Garrett, tricking him into spending more and more of his own coin on narcotics which she had kept to fund her habit. And then she had attached herself to Vicard and used him, too.
She remembered raiding the physician’s home in Farrowgate. She was a common thief as well as a manipulative, deceitful little fuck-up.
Warm blood still trickled down her leg. Just as it had all those years ago. The gang should have killed her as they had killed her father and sister. It would have been better for everyone.
There was movement ahead of her, the sound of a booted foot scuffing against the dirt. Hardly caring, she twisted her neck to see who approached. It was Jerek.
The Highlander was covered in small cuts, his hide shirt torn in multiple places. Red smears and ash covered his bald head. The axes he held at his sides dripped with the blood of countless enemies.
And his eyes were staring in her direction, burning with a hatred that promised brutal death.
The blackness inside her head receded, replaced by sudden terror. She scrabbled to her feet as the grim warrior stalked towards her. He was on her before she could think to run, his axes raised, preparing to end her miserable life. She stared dully at the strapping around his shoulder. The strapping that covered the wound she had accidentally given him. What was it Brodar Kayne had said? The Wolf doesn’t forget a debt.
‘Wait, you know I didn’t mean-’
An axe came down.
And Jerek pushed her gently away from him with his forearm. He didn’t take his eyes off whatever it was he was staring at. ‘Get out of here,’ he growled.
Sasha turned.
The hulking figure seemed to blot out the sun. It was a giant, a towering monstrosity of black metal wearing the face of a demon. ‘I’m Garmond the Black,’ he rumbled. ‘She’s mine. Once I’m done with you.’
Jerek’s face twitched. ‘Reckon so? I’ve killed bigger men than you.’ He leaned over and spat. ‘Ain’t never seen a bigger cunt, though.’
Garmond brought his gauntleted fists together with a thud, sending splatters of gore flying in all directions. ‘You’re dead.’
‘Get out of here,’ Jerek rasped again, and this time Sasha heeded his words. She ran, half stumbling, until she had put a good distance between her and the two men. Then, unable to stop herself, she turned and watched.
The combatants circled one another warily. Jerek, himself a big man, looked shockingly small opposite the Augmentor.
The Highlander feinted and then sprinted forwards, his axes whirring. He hit the giant on the thigh, the shoulder, and then across the chest. The sounds of steel clashing against steel rang out across the battlefield — but when the Wolf ceased his flurry, Garmond’s armour displayed not a single dent.
The Augmentor lunged at the smaller man, but Jerek was already out of range. The Highlander spat and then began stalking a circle around the behemoth, keeping him at a distance.
Garmond turned on the spot, maintaining the angle between them. Suddenly Jerek dropped his shoulder and dashed at the Augmentor. He was halfway to him when he hurled one of his axes at the giant’s head. It whirled through the air, end over end, clashing into the demon helm with a gigantic clang and jerking Garmond’s head back. At the same time Jerek launched himself at the Augmentor’s armoured legs, tackling him shoulder-first with the full force of his body weight. The massive warrior stumbled and then toppled backwards, crashing to the ground.
The Wolf was back on his feet in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Garmond’s head and tugged, his jaw clenching from the effort of trying to prise the great helm lose. Eventually it came free. The Highlander tossed it away and raised his remaining axe. With a grunt, he brought it whistling down.
The axe bounced off Garmond’s vambraced forearm. The massive Augmentor threw his other arm back, elbowing Jerek in the stomach. He doubled up for an instant, just long enough for Garmond to get hold of him and lift him bodily off the ground. He plucked the Highlander’s axe from his hand and tossed it aside, and then brought him down over his knee, once, twice, each impact striking with a sickening thud. Finally, Garmond lifted Jerek high above his head. Sasha was shocked to see the man beneath the helmet was fairly young, utterly unremarkable in appearance. With a snarl, the Augmentor hurled Jerek to the ground. He landed hard and lay still.
Sasha looked away. She hadn’t liked Jerek and he hadn’t liked her, but that didn’t change the fact he had saved her life on more than one occasion. She thought he was done for — but then, remarkably, he began to stir.
Despite the broken ribs and worse he must have suffered, the Highlander was trying to struggle upright.
The Augmentor reached down and pulled Jerek up to his knees; the Wolf swayed as if he might topple over at any moment. Garmond drove a steel gauntlet into his face. Sasha winced at the sickening noise of the impact. He punched Jerek again. This time Sasha heard the crack of a cheekbone shattering.
She searched desperately for a weapon of some sort. There was nothing. Not unless she wanted to charge at the giant with a sword. Hating herself, she readied herself to flee as soon as the Augmentor had finished his gruesome work.
Garmond drew his arm back again, this time as far as it would go. ‘You’re dead,’ he grunted. Then he threw his gauntleted fist forwards with incredible force, the momentum like that of the battering ram that had sundered Dorminia’s gates.