"My shoe's got something in it. I'll catch up with you."
They continued on. When the moment was right, Bianca murmured the final words of the incantation.
It all worked very nicely. Following the principles of contagion and similarity, the wooden supports gave way and almost sailed toward her victims' heads. The loose stones followed, completing the work.
By the time Bianca's screams brought passersby to help her in her frantic attempts to remove the debris, her "relatives" were quite dead. The face and skull of her "aunt" were so badly crushed as to be unrecognizable.
* * *
Four priests, standing already at the fortress walls and inspecting the ruined moles, seemed to flinch as one man. Two of them raised hands to their heads, as if in sudden pain.
"And again!" hissed Eneko.
"Who is she?" wondered Diego, lowering his hands slowly and a bit shakily. "And where is she hiding?"
"I don't know. But we must start searching for her in earnest. This creature must be stopped."
Chapter 68
Something about the whole situation made Erik nervous. It just didn't feel right. "The rest of you stay back here. Deploy scouts on the ridge. Kari, Basil, Dimitris, let's go forward."
The hut appeared deserted. A low stone structure, a mere single room, it didn't appear to have many possible hiding places. And except for the long moon-lit shadows of the ridgeline they were advancing down, no close hiding places. Erik sniffed. It was a balmy night and warm air was full of the scents of wild thyme. So why could he now suddenly smell something totally out of place in the Ionian air?
Ice. Sea ice. And something he'd last smelled with Abbot Sachs and Chernobog's vessel. Like too sweet an incense. It made him want to sneeze.
It also made him very tense. The hilt of the tomahawk slid into his hand, and he walked forward alertly.
A shot rang out, from the hut ahead of them. Erik dove to the left. Basil screamed and fell. Kari's pistol boomed. The glamour used to hide the ambush wavered and was gone. Erik, yelling like a banshee and running for cover, threw the tomahawk. It hit the target dead center, splitting his skull. The arquebus he'd been aiming at Erik went off. A flurry of other shots followed.
There was more fire from the ridge where the rest had waited. But Kari, Dimitris and Erik, saved by a premature shot, were back in the rocks.
"Basil?"
"He was shot in the stomach." The Corfiote pointed. "Look down there, Erik!"
The last of the moonlight shone on at least fifty steel helmets coming up the valley.
"We'll go over the top, past the hut. They're coming down to look for us now. Just stay put."
"Fan out!" shouted an enemy officer, now so close Erik could have almost cut his throat.
"They'll be running down the hill," Erik whispered. "They might try to come back up when they see the squad down there."
A few hundred tense heartbeats later and the pursuit was heading off down the hill. At a loping dog-trot the three went upward. Erik had a chance to see young Basil. Someone had cut his throat in passing. Erik could only be glad. He'd have had to give the youth battle-mercy himself otherwise.
"Present for you," said Kari, handing him his hatchet. "Now let's get out of here. Dimitris is bleeding."
They ran on, finding it hard going in the dark. Fortunately, thought Erik, it must be as hard for the enemy . . . but it didn't seem to be.
"There's a dog or something with them," panted Dimitris. "It's following us. I heard it."
Pausing, Erik listened. He heard a baying howl, quite close, very clear. No other barks answered. And by crashing through the maquis, the dog was way ahead of its human support. "Kari, you go ahead with Dimitris. He needs help. I'll deal with this dog. We won't shake them while they've got the dog."
"You be all right?"
"It's only one dog. I'll see who follows it. Might be worth leading them astray a bit."
* * *
Soon Erik realized that the dog was definitely after him. And, just as he was turning to look for a good spot to deal with the beast, he ran into a neat ambush.
He nearly got three bullets in him—and would have if Thalia hadn't yelled "hold!"
"Erik!" It was some five of his own men, and Thalia. "Rearguard," said Giuliano. "The others are already ahead. We were just setting some booby traps to slow them down. Watch it. There is a cliff over there."
"Dog behind me," panted Erik.
And then it was onto them. Gaunt, pale in the starlight, yelping with hunting bloodlust. Erik saw the bullet hit it . . . but it did not stop. It sprang straight for his throat. Erik barely had time to grab the creature's paws, and stop it.
It was incredibly strong, and almost slimy. Hot, carrion-scented breath washed over him as it snapped furiously. Another shot rang out, with no obvious effect. The creature turned to bite at his hands. Erik dropped and, putting both his feet into its gut, gave the pale hound the full benefit of a flying mare. The dog hit a limestone boulder on the edge of cliff with a sickening crack.
And it got up in a single bound.
Thalia threw her bird-net. The creature tumbled in a tangle of meshes, snapping and yowling as if in pain. "Quick! Over the edge!" yelled Giuliano, grabbing one side of the net. He and Erik heaved and the net bag flew over the edge. Erik heard it bouncing and yowling on its way downward. He hoped it was a long, long way.
"Let's get out of here. We can set booby traps further on."
They hadn't gone more than a hundred yards when Kari hailed them. "Deal with the dog all right?" he asked cheerfully.
* * *
They'd taken every precaution to lose the scent, even if that demon-dog survived the fall. Down to the coast they'd gone, and walked in the water; then, come out into a stream, which they'd eventually left by way of an overhanging tree and then up onto some rocks.
Erik's feet were still very wet. And he was grim. He'd lost two men. Basil, who had been with him, and Luco, who had fallen in the skirmish with the rest of the group. And Dimitris's wound would keep him out of combat for weeks. What was more, he knew very well that they'd gotten clear by luck. The enemy were becoming more cunning.
Back in the forward camp, Erik found their peasant hostage—with a bump on his head and tied very securely. "He tried to make a bolt for it," explained Theo.
"Not surprising, that," said Kari, taking out his knife. "He's not going to have another chance."
The peasant's eyes widened with horror. Not at the sight of the knife. He didn't even seem to notice that. At the sight of Erik.
Erik looked back at him, dispassionately. "We'll have to move. But first we'll have to deal with this traitor. Show that no kind of money is worth this."
"I did not do it for money. I would not touch their filthy money. But they have my son, lord. They said they would kill him if I didn't bring you."
Erik's eyes narrowed. "Where do they have your son?"
"Please, lord. He is only a little boy. Four years old. Don't blame or hurt him."
"We do not make war on children," snapped Thalia. "Traitor."
His eyes blazed at her. "What could I do? They held my boy. They still hold him," he said bitterly. "They'll kill him. They'll think I betrayed them."