Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [57]
Walker, bleeding from half a dozen small wounds, kept warding the rangers away with his threatening blade and gaze. Then the rangers drew back and lowered their swords, allowing Walker his circle. The ghostwalker stood up as straight as he could, held his blade low, and stared at the huge barbarian coming toward him. Bilgren shouldered his way through the rangers and stepped into the circle with the bleeding ghostwalker.
"Thy race be run, dark man," Bilgren rumbled, holding his weapon ready. He twirled it in front of him and across to both his sides, then over his head, with astonishing grace given the weapon's size and Bilgren's bulk. He finally snapped it down and held the flail and sword handle in his two huge hands. "I only regret that a sickly goblin like ye could kill me friend Drex." He lifted his gyrspike over his head in challenge.
Walker's grim scowl did not waver. He lifted his shatter-spike, accepting the barbarian's challenge.
Bilgren roared and leaped in, attacking with reckless abandon. It was a berserk fury, a terrible blood frenzy Walker had observed many times in animals backed into corners. The rage would heighten Bilgren's strength, speed, and endurance. Against Walker, already injured, the advantage was clear.
The fight would be a quick one, unless Tymora intervened.
Spinning his gyrspike, Bilgren slashed down at Walker's head. The smaller man made to parry, then leaped aside, dodging the blow and the spiked ball that smashed down after it. Working with both hands, Bilgren continued the swing, allowing the sword and flail to slash past the side of his body. For such a huge man, he possessed remarkable speed. Bilgren turned and brought the weapon horizontally right to left, turning the swipe past his side and allowing the flail to swing. Walker managed to whirl away in time, the flail passing within a hand's breadth of his chest.
Meanwhile, a dagger slid into Walker's hand, and he let fly.
Walker landed and went to one knee, one hand low, and his cloak spread out around him. Bilgren gave a gasp from behind, and the ghostwalker closed his eyes as though mourning. The street was silent.
Then a sound broke that silence-a loud, booming laugh.
Walker turned to see Bilgren looming over him, a dagger stuck to the hilt in his right arm. The barbarian looked at the wound idly, then ripped the knife from his flesh with the slightest of winces. He tossed it aside and swung the gyrspike, keeping the sword blade against his arm.
Eyes wide, Walker managed to duck the flail by throwing himself on his back.
Bilgren followed through and took the weapon behind his back, turning it like a staff, and the blade came back around his right side. Walker leaped to the opposite side of Bilgren's body, but the barbarian kept the weapon slashing after him. The ghostwalker managed to parry aside the sword blade but the spiked ball clipped his shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground.
Intense pain lashed through Walker and blood flew from his lips. He pushed on the earth, trying to force himself up from where he lay on his belly, but he could not muster the strength. He tried to summon up the ghostly powers that would allow him to escape by walking through the very earth, but the necessary focus eluded him. For the first time in the life he remembered, Walker felt his resolve and his calm slipping away.
The rangers laughed and jeered all around him. A flat, emotionless expression was painted across Meris's dusky face, but something burned in his eyes.
In those eyes, something… Anger, yes. Rage, yes. But something else…
Looming over him, the bearlike Bilgren spun the gyrspike over his head. "Not used to facing death, are ye, dark man?" the raging barbarian roared like a lion. "How does it feel? To know I be about to crush ye-"
"Sir Bilgren!" a voice shouted from somewhere.
Startled, the barbarian watched, stupefied, as a lance stabbed into his shoulder, lifting him up and out of the circle.
Holding the other end of that lance, Arya burst into the circle on the back of a charging steed. The confused