Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [134]
With the first threat past, the young berserker looked around for more enemies. The merrow were thickest around Wedigar-in some dim corner of his mind, Fyodor reasoned that the creatures must have been instructed to do away with Holgerstead's leader. He waded in, his black sword slashing a path toward the First Axe.
Wedigar was bleeding from a dozen wounds, some of them deep, and he was weaving on his feet. Yet he fought on, his battle-axe flashing as he fended off the much larger creatures. Fyodor noted that the man did not fight in frenzy. Perhaps the merrow had come upon him too quickly; perhaps his mead-poisoned mind could not summon the needed focus. Whatever the case, Fyodor fell in at Wedigar's back and fought back the merrow that pressed upon his commander and friend.
Screams of warning came from the keep; several Northwomen leaned from the high windows and gestured frantically toward the outer walls. Some of them took up small bows and began to rain arrows into the far reaches of the courtyard.
Fyodor darted a glance over his shoulder. Swarms of hideous, fishlike men were creeping toward the fighters in eerily precise, V-shaped formations. Two of these groups flanked him and began to close in on the beleaguered First Axe and his young protector. Fyodor sensed the solid form at his back falter, then go down on one knee.
Wedigar, the FirstAxe ofHolgerstead, had fallen at last.
A second change swept through Fyodor, something far
beyond the fire and ice of his battle frenzy. It was as if a strong wind blew through him, sweeping him toward insentience. The black sword dropped from his hand, and he whirled, lashing out at the two merrow who stood triumphantly over Wedigar, their spears poised for killing thrusts. Enormous claws ripped across the throats of both merrow, and the lifeblood of the creatures washed, like a crimson fountain, over the fallen First Axe.
Fyodor shouted a warning to the others as he pointed toward the new enemy. He was not at all surprised to hear the roar of an enraged bear coming from his throat, or to perceive his gesturing hand as an enormous, black-furred paw. He merely dropped down onto all fours and charged the oncoming fish-men.
The creatures let out clattering shrieks and scattered at once, fleeing from the seemingly rabid black bear that raged toward them. But the Rashemi warrior was faster still, falling upon the fish-men with rending claws and slashing fangs.
A wild shout went up behind him as the Northmen rallied. The uncanny frenzy that claimed Fyodor seemed to touch them as well, speeding their movements and bringing them onward in a valiant rush. For many moments the courtyard was a blur of flailing swords and axes as the Northmen cut down the invaders with relentless glee. Meanwhile, behind the line of battle, Wedigar stirred, groaned, and wiped the merrow's blood from his eyes. The sight in the courtyard beyond both thrilled and worried him. A new shapeshifter had come to Ruathym; his people would overcome the enemy-although with little credit to him. But the fighter put aside personal pride at once, for as he studied the young Rashemi's unnatural rage, he realized this was no usual hamfariggen warrior. Wedigar was not at all certain the battle would stop when the sea creatures had been overcome.
The First Axe dragged himself to his feet and staggered to the thick wooden gate in the outer wall. For several long moments he strained at the bolt; it gave way with a shriek of metal. He tugged until the heavy door swung inward. The surviving merrow and their sahuagin allies fled at once toward the offered escape. Still in bear form, Fyodor pursued, galloping after them and roaring in inhuman rage. Behind him roiled the Northmen berserkers, intent upon driving their enemies back into the sea.
Wedigars