Calard stepped away from the door； his sword levelled towards it。 It shook violently； but held。
‘What in Morr’s name is going on？’ came a slurred a voice。 Calard looked over his shoulder to see
one of Merovech’s knights stumbling down the stairs； a drawn blade in his hands。 He was clearly still the
worse for wear from the night’s drinking； and he was followed by several of his comrades； all in various
stages of dishevelment。 Other guests of the inn were emerging from their rooms； their faces drawn and
pale。
‘We are besieged；’ said Calard。
The banging at the door subsided； and Calard edged towards it； listening intently。
‘How did they get into the compound？’ said one of the knights。
‘Someone let them in； most likely；’ said Calard； glancing around。 ‘The innkeeper would be my guess。
’
‘What？’ said a voice。 ‘Why would you say that？’
‘Do you see him here； or any of his staff？’ said Calard； gesturing around him。 ‘They are probably all
holed up in the gatehouse。’
‘The bastard’s sold us out to Mortis；’ growled one of Merovech’s knights。 At mention of the name；
Chlod whimpered。
Several of the other guests began to speak at once； their voices rising in panic。
‘Quiet；’ snapped Calard。
In the ensuing silence； they could all hear shuffling around the exterior of the inn。 There were scuffling
noises at the walls； and Calard looked up。
‘They are going for the second floor windows；’ shouted someone； and Calard quickly looked around
him。 There were over half a dozen armed men in the main room of the inn now。
‘You three；’ he said； jabbing a finger a cluster of men holding weapons。 ‘Get upstairs and barricade
the windows。’
‘I’ll be damned if I take orders from–’ snarled one of them； but Calard cut him off。
‘Do it！’ he thundered。 The man looked like he was going to argue； but the others saw sense in Calard
’s words； and hurried up the stairs。 Calard gestured towards other men with his sword。 ‘Get those tables
on their sides to block the windows！ You and you； help me slide this one in front of the door！’
Unseen by Calard； Raben staggered unsteadily down the stairs into the common room； one hand
pressed to his temple。 He had a sword in his hand； and his eyes burned with cold fury。 He moved
purposefully towards Calard as he heaved at a heavy oak table； positioning it to block the front door。
A shuttered window suddenly exploded inwards amid a shower of splinters； and feral peasants began
clawing their way through； howling and braying like demented madmen。 A table propped against another
window was shoved aside； and more of the cannibalistic rabble began clambering inside。
‘For the Lady！’
Calard leapt forwards and brought his sword down on the head of the first peasant to scramble
through； cleaving its skull down to the teeth； spraying blood。
He smashed another peasant back with the pommel of his sword； but dozens more were straining to
get in。 He could hear banging from upstairs； but that was soon drowned out by shouting； the clash of
weapons and the sickly sound of blades hacking into flesh and bone。
Hands clawed for him and he stepped swiftly away from the door； slashing with his sword。 A clutch
of fingers dropped to the floor； twitching。
Chlod backed off； looking around frantically for an escape route。 He ran behind the bar and tugged
at the cellar door； but he could not lift it。
The front door was ripped off its hinges and tossed aside suddenly； and a flood of peasants streamed
in； scrambling over the table slid up against it。 Some carried crude clubs and rusted farm implements；
while others seemed intent on killing with nothing more than tooth and claw。
Chlod dropped to the floor and crawled under the bar； trying to make himself as inconspicuous as
possible。
Calard found himself fighting side by side with Raben and two other men。 Despite the knock Calard
had given him； the outcast knight fought with poise and control。 He was fast and deadly； his timing
impeccable。 Calard was careful not to turn his back on him。
The devolved peasants came on like a living tide； scrabbling over tables and sending chairs flying；
forcing Calard and Raben back against the bar。 For every one of their number that was cut down； two
more squeezed through the windows and clambered through the gaping door。
The room was filled with their stink； a mixture of sweat； rotting meat and wet soil。
It was not long before they started to attack down the inn’s stairs。
‘They’ve taken the upper floor；’ said Calard。
One of Raben’s knights was knocked to the ground and brained with what looked like a human
thigh…bone。
‘This is hopeless；’ growled Raben。 ‘There are too many of them！’
‘I have no intention of dying here；’ said Calard； kicking a twitching corpse off his blade。 ‘The Lady is
with me。’
Raben ran another peasant through； then spat derisively。 ‘The Lady forsook this place long ago。’
One by one； the inn’s defenders were dragged down； their heads smashed in with sticks and their
throats ripped out with blood…stained teeth。 The peasants descended on them like starved beasts； and
screams rang out from those not yet dead when the cannibals began their gory feast。
‘There must be another way out；’ shouted Calard； now fighting back to back with Raben。 The notion
of fleeing from mere peasants wrenched at his sense of pride； but it would not serve the Lady’s purpose
if he died here。
Calard was wielding his bastard sword in one hand now； and had drawn the Sword of Garamont
with his other。
A screeching； near naked peasant leapt at Calard from atop the bar； its body scrawny and
malnourished。 Calard cut it down in midair； and it fell in a bloody heap to the floor。 Calard glanced
around him； getting a sense of their position within the common room。
‘The kitchen；’ he said； indicating towards it with a nod。 ‘That’s our best chance。 There must be a
back door。’
Both Calard and Raben were splattered with blood； and while most of it was not their own； neither
man was uninjured。 Raben risked a quick glance back towards the kitchen。 It was at least ten yards
away； and they were now completely surrounded。
‘We won’t make it；’ said Raben。
‘Stay here and die then； damn you；’ said Calard。
With a roar； he forced the enemy back； swinging his swords around in a pair of deadly arcs。 Taking
advantage of the space he had created； he leapt atop the bar and ran along its length towards the back of
the inn。 Peasants reached for him but his blades sliced out； keeping them at bay。 He leapt off the far end；
slamming a pair of enemies to the floor。 He came to his feet in the kitchen doorway； blades at the ready。
The kitchen was disgustingly dirty； and rats scuttled in the shadows； but it was free of foes。 He spotted a
door on the far wall。
Glancing back into the common room； he saw Chlod emerge from beneath the bar； scurrying under
tables towards him。
‘Quickly！’ Calard shouted。 Peasants were close behind his manservant； their red…rimmed eyes wide。
Raben was standing alone； surrounded。 He turned on the spot； holding his sword at the ready as
peasants closed in around him； too many to hold off alone。 Briefly； Calard’s gaze met Raben’s across the
room。 He saw the outcast mouth a curse。 The peasants attacked as one but Raben had pre…empted them
and was already moving。 He swayed aside from a vicious blow and launched a lightning counter that took
off an arm at the elbow。
Calard shoved Chlod into the kitchen。
‘Unlock the door！’ he ordered。 Calard stepped back to give himself more room to swing as the
enemy came at him。 The first through the doorway was hacked almost in two as he cleaved it from
shoulder…blade to armpit。 He dragged his sword free and waited for the next to enter； but the peasants
hung back； none willing to be his next victim。 Glancing over his shoulder； he saw Chlod at the back door；
and began to edge towards him。 The peasants came after him； spreading out； but they were wary now of
his blade。 There was a commotion behind the peasants； and he caught a glimpse of Raben barging his
way through the press of bodies。
‘Wait；’ he ordered Chlod as he heard the bolts of the back door sliding open。
The knight burst into the room； but the leg of a chair wielded as a club struck him； and he stumbled。
Three peasants were on him in an instant。 Without thought； Calard moved to his aid。 He hacked into the
bare back of one of the peasants crouched over the outcast； severing its spine。 He kicked another away；
sending it flying face…first into a bench top； bringing a pile of dirty pots down with a crash。 He slashed at
another； and it reeled backwards with a screech； blood spraying from its neck。 The peasants had now
circled around them； filling the kitchen。
Calard gripped Raben under the arm and helped him to his feet。 Blood was dripping from bite
wounds on his cheek and neck。 The outcast knight had lost his grip on his sword； and drew a slender
knife from his boot。
‘You should have gone without me；’ said Raben。 ‘I would have。’
‘And that is the difference between your kind and mine；’ said Calard。
The peasants came at them in a rush。 Two died to Calard’s bastard sword and another to Raben’s
stabbing knife before the two knights were overwhelmed。
Seeing his master disarmed and dragged to the ground； Chlod slid back the last bolt on the door in a
rush and threw the door open。 The cold night air washed in and without a backwards glance he bolted
out into the darkness。
Before he had made two yards； a hand locked around his throat。 His legs went out from under him；
and he was hurled back into the kitchen。 From the floor； he looked up to see a gaunt peasant appear in
the doorway。 His eyes widened as the figure came into the light。
‘No； no； no； no； no；’ said Chlod； scrambling backwards on his hands and knees。
The figure was covered in crude tattoos and wore a necklace of fingers around his scrawny neck。
Splinters of bone had been pushed through the skin of his forearms。 He looked down at Chlod and
smiled； exposing stained teeth that had been filed to points。
‘Hello； Chlod；’ he said。
CALARD’S ARMS WERE wrenched behind his back and his wrists bound with tough； sinewy cord。
‘Chlod；’ he said。 ‘What in the Lady’s name is going on？’
His manservant stood nearby； shivering； his eyes wide and staring。 He avoided Calard’s gaze as he
too was bound。
‘By all that is holy； I swear–’ said Calard； but his words were cut short as a hastily tied noose was
looped around his neck。 A foot between his shoulder blades pinned him down as it was yanked taut；
making him gasp for breath。
Alongside him； Raben was suffering similar treatment； held face down on the floor while he was
trussed up like a prize hog。
The tattooed leader of the peasant rabble barked something indecipherable in a repulsive； guttural
tongue and Calard and Raben were dragged to their feet。 Another barked order and they were hauled
out into the night。 The tattooed peasant followed； holding Chlod tightly around the back of the neck。
‘We’ve missed you； Chlod；’ he hissed。
VII
FOR OVER THREE hours they were dragged through stinking marshes and haunted forests by the loping
parade of filthy； cannibalistic peasants。 Their captives were not the feral brood’s only spo