Gwen looked around uncertainly. She was beginning to wonder if she truly could remember the route. Mordis brushed past her with an impatient hiss.
‘Don’t rely on her!’ she sneered. ‘I know this castle better than all of you. Follow me!’
She strutted off up the passage. Eric and Hal grinned at each other, watching her as she walked away. Gwen frowned at them.
Gangrel led them after the swart-elf.
‘Where now, Princess?’ Hal asked, as they halted. They had reached a landing halfway up a wide flight of steps. Two flights branched off from the first, at right angles. Mordis was looking doubtfully from one flight to the other.
‘Don’t you know where you’re going?’ Gwen asked. ‘I think it was this way.’ She indicated the left hand flight.
Mordis gritted her teeth. ‘Well done,’ she said cattily. They turned in that direction, and halted.
‘What’s that light up ahead?’ Eric asked.
‘And that smell!’ Hal said, coughing.
‘Something is coming,’ Tanngrisnir said ominously. Thudding footsteps echoed down the hall at the head of the stairs.
Gwen, Mordis, and Ilmadis exchanged horrified glances. It all seemed horribly familiar. Gwen remembered their escape attempt.
Before any of them could speak, a massive, fiery figure loomed up in the passage ahead. Twelve feet high, with cracked black skin licked with living fire, it was a figure the three girls had seen before. It bore a longsword, and grinned hotly as it saw them cowering.
It was left to Tanngrisnir to identify the blazing figure even now descending towards them. ‘One of the Sons of Muspell!’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘A fire giant!’
Gangrel hefted his spear.
8 GANGREL’S DUEL
‘Quickly!’ Gangrel cried. ‘Princess Mordis, do you know of any other route to the hangar?’
‘I… I think so,’ the swart-elf stammered.
‘Then lead them by it!’ the old man commanded her. ‘I will deal with this!’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Eric said. ‘Hurry up, Mordis. Where do we go now?’
‘I’ll stand by you!’ Hal said, brandishing his stolen swart-elf scimitar.
‘As will I,’ Tanngrisnir growled, glowering at the fire giant as it strode down the steps, leaving smoking footprints as it came.
‘Don’t be a fool, Hal!’ Gangrel cried. ‘And Tanngrisnir; you should know better. Leave this to me!’
‘You can’t…’ Hal said. Gangrel was an old man, and the thing advancing on them looked invincible. He didn’t rate his own chances against it highly, but…
‘Come,’ Tanngrisnir said, shamefaced. ‘Grimnir is right. We must leave him to it.’
Unwilling, Hal turned and accompanied the dwarf towards the other flight of steps, up which Mordis, Ilmadis, Gwen and Eric were already hurrying. Hal turned halfway up them, as he heard battle commence.
Gangrel had waited until the fire giant was on the level before thrusting at him with the spear held in both hands. The fire giant’s sword hissed down. Gangrel blocked its blow using his spear like a quarterstaff, then quickly drew it back and plunged it into the giant’s belly. Hissing ichor spattered out of the wound. The fire giant roared, swiping at the old man with its sword.
‘Come!’ Tanngrisnir bellowed.
Hal hurried after the others. Mordis led them through a labyrinth of corridors and passageways, dusty and neglected, hung with cobwebs.
‘No one comes down here,’ she gasped, as she led them at a run. ‘Only I, when I wish to be alone. Many parts of the castle lie mouldering like this.’
‘Which way to the hangar?’ Gwen panted.
‘Down here!’ Mordis replied, leading them along a narrow branching passage.
‘Will that old man survive?’ she asked, as they sprinted down the passage. ‘Why did he risk his life against Eld? It was foolish.’
Gwen gulped. ‘He wanted to give us all a chance,’ she replied. ‘I don’t know if we’ll see him again…’
‘He’ll survive, Gwen,’ Tanngrisnir said confidently, gaining on them. ‘He has fought worse battles than this, and survived. Many are the songs my people sing of his exploits.’ They slowed to allow the others to catch up.
Hal shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. ‘Gangrel… He’s just a crazy old man.’
‘My people sing of him, also,’ Ilmadis told him.
‘Run!’
The voice echoed from the flaking walls. Hal whirled round to see Gangrel racing towards them.
‘Did you kill it?’ he shouted.
Gangrel shook his head wildly, and then Hal saw the red glow rapidly creeping up behind him.
‘No,’ Gangrel gasped. ‘I have wounded him, but he is undeterred. He is Eld, son of Muspell, one of the foremost warriors of Muspellzheim. Proof - if we needed any more - that the swart-elves and fire giants are in league. We must escape this castle and warn our allies. Now run!’
The sulphurous stench of the encroaching fire giant billowed down the passageway from behind. Hal cast glances over his shoulder that revealed the figure of Eld racing towards them, unstoppable as a lava-flow. The passage filled with yellow fumes as the fire giant gained on them.
‘How far now, Princess?’ Gangrel bellowed.
‘Round the next corner,’ Mordis cried.
‘You keep saying that,’ Hal muttered. His back was growing uncomfortably warm, as if he had been standing too long and too close to a roaring log-fire.
‘You will not escape me!’ the fire giant hissed. ‘Grimnir; your doom is upon you! Bearer of the Runeblade; you too shall fall, ere the Runeblade is forged! We shall triumph! Ymir will be avenged!’
‘How far?’ Eric said. ‘How far do we have to go?’ The orange glow from the fire giant crept inexorably closer.
‘Ahead!’ Mordis shrieked.
‘You keep saying that,’ Hal repeated. But he bit off anything else he had to say when the passage opened up, and they found themselves at the edge of a vast, windswept area open to the air.
Dragons hung from the roof in myriads. Others crouched placidly upon the floor, near the open wall, as if ready to fly. Otherwise, the chamber was empty except for a few swart-elf servants who tended to the beasts. A wide archway directly opposite the entrance led into the depths of the castle.
Gangrel halted, looking over his shoulder. ‘Go and secure dragons, all of you. I will fight the fire giant. If I do not return soon then go without me.’
‘We can’t do that…’ Gwen protested, but Gangrel turned, and paced back into the ruddy darkness of the passage.
‘I wish he wouldn’t,’ Eric muttered.
‘He means to buy us time enough to get mounts,’ Tanngrisnir told him. ‘Come; these swart-elves will be little trouble.’ He brandished Helbrand, and led them at a run across the wide floor of the dragon hangar.
Swart-elves rushed forward as they entered. Steel rang out across the open space as Hal crossed swords with one attacker, then another, then another, ducked to avoid a thrust, then parried a second attack and slid his steel beneath the ribs of a third warrior. Beside him, Tanngrisnir’s sword glittered in the torchlight as he hacked down his foes.
Gwen, Ilmadis, and Mordis ducked and weaved through the running figures and reached the side of a dragon. Up close, the creatures were massive, twenty foot from scaly, equine head to pointed tail, from bunched-up, leathery wing to wing. They gave off a snakelike odour that made Gwen gag. ‘Alright, then,’ she gasped. ‘What do we do?’
Mordis had grabbed a huge saddle that lay nearby. It looked as if it had been designed for an elephant. ‘Slave; aid me with this,’ she snapped, and Ilmadis automatically ran to obey. ‘Human! Keep them off whilst we ready the dragons!’ She indicated a group of swart-elves who were heading in their direction.
Gwen frowned. ‘Doh! Like how?’ she asked sweetly. Then she saw a bow and quiver clipped onto the saddle they were carrying. ‘Just a second!’ she said, and grabbed them.
&nbs
p; Gwen reminded herself that she had once won a prize for archery as she strung the bow and pulled a black fletched arrow from the quiver. But that had been a few years ago, and she had been aiming at motionless targets in the middle of a sports field, and not mad-eyed warriors sprinting toward her with vicious intent.
As Mordis and Ilmadis struggled to saddle and ready the placid dragons for the coming flight, Gwen sent arrow after arrow winging towards the oncoming swart-elves. One fell with an arrow jutting from his throat. Another followed quickly, clutching at his belly.
In the thick of it, Hal, Eric and Tanngrisnir were standing back to back, as the swart-elves battled them.
‘They still outnumber us,’ Eric said wryly. ‘Isn’t it about time we flew the Hel out of here?’
‘What about Gangrel?’ Hal gasped. He turned to see the old man fighting steadily on the far side of the hangar as he backed away from the oncoming fire giant. Gangrel was coming dangerously close to the edge. Hal was about to run to him when Tanngrisnir’s shout arrested him.
‘Thor’s Beard!’ the dwarf cried suddenly. ‘More of them!’
They had whittled down the swart-elves in the hangar to about five or six, but now more were flooding in through the main arch. At their head was a figure Hal recognised with a thrill of hatred.
Prince Helgrim.
Hal downed his next opponent with a thrust to the heart. He wrenched his blade free, dodged another attack, and forced his way from the melee.
* * * * *
Prince Helgrim saw his bride first, filling the air with black arrows. She stood beside a line of dragons, which two other figures were hurriedly preparing for flight. His eyes narrowed as he recognised one of them.
‘Princess Mordis!’ he shouted. ‘Traitress!’
At his cry, Mordis dropped the saddle she had been carrying, and looked up. Racing towards her, across the chaos of the chamber, was her prince, her love.
‘Mordis! Cousin!’ he cried. ‘Do not aid them! Leave them to die, if you love me!’
* * * * *
Mordis stood still. Gwen saw what was happening, and cursed. Was Mordis going to betray them? The swart-elf had only become involved in this because of her love for Prince Helgrim. Would she turn her coat?
Then another figure burst out of the mob, and hit Prince Helgrim like a thunderbolt. The swart-elf prince staggered, and wheeled, drawing his sword with a smile. ‘You killed my family!’ Hal sobbed, hacking madly at the swart-elf.
‘Hurry!’ Mordis cried, tearing herself away from the scene. ‘We must prepare the dragons.’
Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. Mordis had chosen rightly. Smiling, she ran to help the two elves ready the last dragon.
Eric and Tanngrisnir joined them suddenly, with swart-elves in hot pursuit.
‘What about Gangrel?’ Eric asked, indicating the far side of the hangar, where the fire giant and the old man still battled desperately. Gwen saw that countless swart-elves packed the space between them.
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Tanngrisnir grunted. Gangrel was now fighting on the very edge of the hangar. His clothes smoked and smouldered in several places from contact with his foe. ‘He means to buy us time so we could escape. Hal must get to Aurvangar. That’s what matters most.’
‘Do you all remember what I told you?’ Mordis cried, as they mounted the dragons. ‘The reins; and the goad! Use the reins to steer and the goad to increase speed.’
She looked over her shoulder. ‘Come on, Hal!’ she cried. ‘Leave him! He is not worth it!’ Hal looked up from his duel. ‘You're outnumbered, Hal,’ Mordis cried, indicating the oncoming swart-elf warriors. ‘Quickly! Get up behind me!’
Hal hesitated, and Prince Helgrim thrust at him. Hal parried the blow.
‘Hal!’ Mordis cried again. ‘Hal, I love you!’
Gwen stared at the swart-elf in shock.
* * * * *
Hal stopped dead still, and almost allowed Prince Helgrim to skewer him. Mordis’ words echoed within his mind, but they seemed to have no meaning.
He snarled at the swart-elf prince. Other warriors were moving to surround them. ‘I’ll get you later, mate,’ he told the Prince. Quickly, he turned, and ran for the dragons. He leapt up behind Mordis.
‘Now let’s go!’ Gwen shouted.
‘What about Gangrel?’ Hal cried suddenly. He looked about him. The hangar was crawling with swart-elves, but beyond them, he could see the old man fighting the fire giant, his coat ablaze as he struggled. ‘We can’t leave him!’
‘Yes we can,’ Eric shouted. ‘He told us to leave, if he didn’t join us soon. Hal, let’s go!’
Hal felt nothing more than an intense desire to join the old man, to die gloriously on the field of battle. But Mordis chose that moment to spur the dragon into movement with the long, wicked-looking goad.
As Hal lurched back across the dragon’s scaly hide with the force of takeoff, he glimpsed Eld lunging at Gangrel. The old man dodged deftly to one side, thrust his spear into the fire giant’s ribs - slipped, staggered - and plunged over the edge of the tower.
Hal stared uncomprehendingly. The dragon shot towards the edge of the hangar and Gangrel dropped out of sight.
Eric and Gwen spurred their own mounts, and soon the three dragons - bearing Mordis and Hal, Gwen and Ilmadis, and Eric and Tanngrisnir, respectively - were soaring towards the exit from the hangar, leaving the swart-elf warriors encircling their previous position.
‘Fools!’ Prince Helgrim cried. ‘After them!’
Swart-elves hurried to ready more dragons for the pursuit.
* * * * *
‘Gangrel,’ Hal sobbed as the iced winds howled around his chill body. ‘Gangrel!’ He grabbed Mordis’ shoulder. ‘Turn us round! We’ve got to save Gangrel!’
He looked back at the rapidly receding castle of the swart-elves. Already, the bat-like shapes of other dragons were fluttering out from the tiny opening in the side of the immense castle wall. The sheer wall of the tower descended vertically towards the rocky plain, hundreds of dizzying feet below. He could see no sign of his old friend.
‘Stop that,’ Mordis snapped, struggling to fly the creature. ‘I realise you are upset. But I had to make my sacrifices too. I had to leave my poor wolves behind. Poor Ylg and Varg! Who will feed them now I’m gone?’
Slowly, her earlier words sank into Hal’s confused brain. ‘What did you say to me? Before?’
Mordis smiled absently, and patted his thigh. ‘Not now,’ she said.
Just then, the pursuing dragons, flying in a widening crescent close behind them, began to circle and surround the fugitives.
Three dragons swooped down out the dark skies and hurtled straight towards them.
9 FLIGHT INTO TERROR
‘Bandits at eight o’clock!’ yelled Eric.
‘Bandits?’ Tanngrisnir muttered.
‘Dragons!’ cried Eric, wrenching at the reins of his winged reptilian steed. Tanngrisnir’s stomach lurched as the youth inadvertently sent them into a loop-the-loop.
* * * * *
‘Fools!’
Prince Helgrim watched the distant specks as they flew into the dark night, his own dragons swooping down on them.
‘They’ve escaped,’ his father said mockingly. Prince Helgrim spun on his heel, and glared at the king. ‘Your bride,’ Hrafnsvart added. ‘And your foe!’
‘They have orders to bring her back alive,’ Prince Helgrim muttered obsessively. ‘I will not have my plans set at naught.’
‘But what of Grimnir?’ Hrafnsvart added. ‘He was not among them.’
‘Eld was fighting him,’ Prince Helgrim said.
They turned to see the fire giant lying on the ground nearby, all its flames extinguished.
* * * * *
Skilfully, Mordis steered her dragon between two oncoming attackers. Fire spewed from the creature’s jaws, roaring as it spattered through the air.
The two approaching dragons divided, one swooping round in an attemp
t to take them broadside, the other spinning out of control towards the far-off ground, its leathery wings blazing.
Hal raised the bow he had found strapped to the saddle, notched an arrow, and loosed. The arrow spun through the howling air, and missed the swart-elf dragon-rider by inches. His own archer loosed an arrow in return, and it thudded into the leather saddle just next to Hal.
Mordis yanked on the reins and tapped the dragon with her goad. It beat its wings and soared downwards in a freefall spiral. Hal looked up, to see the enemy descending towards them.
Another enemy dragon shot out of the darkness, venom spewing from its mouth. Mordis pulled on the reins, and they veered to the left, going into a dive, then swooping up directly beneath the dragon.
‘Shoot!’ Mordis cried. ‘The belly! Go for the belly!’
Hal notched another arrow. The dragon’s underbelly was pale and scaleless. He loosed as they passed directly beneath. Then their dragon shot forward. Hal glanced over his shoulder. A bestial shriek of agony was whipped away by the wind.
The dragon’s wings crumpled around it, and it tumbled downwards through the air, sending the two swart-elves falling. Hal cheered.
‘Watch out!’ Mordis yelled. Hal whipped his head round to see a flock of dragons flying straight towards them in a crescent. He scrabbled in the saddle-quiver.
* * * * *
‘The bow! The bow!’ Gwen was shouting, as they rocketed through the air. Three dragons were directly on their tail.
‘There isn’t a bow,’ Ilmadis shrieked. ‘You must have left it behind!’
Gwen cursed. Had she dropped the bow when they mounted the dragon?
‘How the Hel do you make this thing breathe fire?’ she shouted, yanking at the reins. She had seen other people do it; a blast of warm heat and a squeal from Ilmadis told her that one of their pursuers had just done so. ‘What did Mordis say about making them breathe fire?’ Gwen shouted at the elf-girl.
‘I can’t remember,’ Ilmadis replied desperately. ‘Something about the reins, some trick of the reins…’
‘Fat lot of good,’ Gwen grunted. She tugged at the reins. It brought them swooping up in a sudden spiral that left their pursuers tumbling madly onward before they checked their flight and moved to follow them.
Up here, high above the peaks, Gwen saw much of the surrounding country that stretched out below them. To the north, rocky ground sloped down towards a distant river. To the south, the dark plains spread on, disappearing eventually into the mist that was thick along their southern rim.