Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [167]
Comyn hesitated, then handed Rhodry his shield.
“Don’t know what you’ll find in there, do you, now?”
“I don’t.” Rhodry settled the shield on his left arm. “My thanks.”
Rhodry drew his sword as Comyn kicked open the door. The farmhouse was big, about sixty feet in diameter, and like most houses of its type it was cut up like a pie into small wedge-shaped chambers, divided from one another by wickerwork partitions. Rhodry stepped into what had been a parlor of sorts with two wooden chairs, a carved chest sitting under a window, and on the wall a wooden shelf that proudly displayed three painted earthenware plates. The dust lay so thick on the floor that he left footprints.
In either wall were openings, hung with blankets. Since the one to his right would lead to the kitchen and Camdel, Rhodry decided to go left. He approached the opening cautiously, then flicked up his sword and pulled down the blanket. As it crumpled, he saw a bedchamber, with fresh straw on the floor and a couple of hay-filled pallets. He walked in, spotting several bedrolls and piles of saddlebags, all strewn about as if someone had recently searched through them. Although it looked like perfectly ordinary gear, he refused to touch it. For all he knew, it was filled with strange magicks.
The blanket over the next opening was pulled to one side. He peered into a chamber, far bigger than the last two, where plowshares, old horse gear, and a couple of pieces of broken furniture lay scattered about. Sitting by the doorway on the far side was a corpse, a gray, puffy thing dressed in farmer’s clothing and holding a woodcutter’s ax in both hands. Rhodry assumed that the farmer must have tried to defend himself as the dark dweomer overwhelmed and slew him.
“Well, old man,” he said as he walked in, “we’ll get you a proper burial.”
The corpse raised its head and looked at him. Rhodry yelped aloud and stood frozen for a moment as it slowly lurched to its feet. Although its eye sockets were empty, it raised the ax and staggered toward him just as if it could see. Rhodry wanted to gag, but he flung up his shield and stepped aside as a clumsy blow swung down and missed him. When the thing turned toward him, he swung his sword up under its slow parry and caught it full across the throat. There was a gush of some dark liquid with an acrid smell, but the corpse calmly raised the ax again and stepped forward.
Rhodry’s berserker laugh rose in his mouth. Sobbing and chortling, he dodged, lunged, and hacked into the corpse’s armpit. Although more stinking liquid spewed, the thing came on and swung down at him. When he caught the blow on his shield, he heard the wood crack; the unnatural warrior was strong. His laughter rose to a howl as he swung up hard and cut the thing’s right arm half-off. It merely shifted the weight on the ax to its left hand and swung again. With a dodge he darted round and stabbed it in the back. Slowly it turned to face him.
Distantly Rhodry heard voices yelling, coming closer, but he kept all his concentration on the ax as the thing swung it from side to side as if it would cut Rhodry down like a tree. He dodged, caught a blow on his shield, and sliced its arm open, but still it swung. He was hampered by the clutter in the room as they went round and round. All at once he slipped; the ax sailed by, a bare inch from his head. He jumped up, shrieking with laughter, and put all his berserker’s strength into the blow. The sword bit deep and cracked bone as it caught the thing on the back of the neck.
Its head dangling from a strip of skin and muscle, the corpse swung the ax full into Rhodry’s shield. The wood and leather split and cracked to the boss, and half the shield fell away. Rhodry ducked and dodged, then swung at its left arm. Although it dropped the ax at last, still it kept coming for him. He leaped back fast. It seemed that being touched by its fingers would be worse than the blow of a blade. Desperately he sliced its abdomen open. No guts spilled, and still it came for him.
“Halt in the name of the Master of the Aethyr!”