Страница 179 из 202
Ullen watched the man disappear from sight. ‘Yes… I shall.’
Yet incredibly, unbelievably, shapes now stirred among the trampled and punished ground. Here and there Guardsmen stood, weaving, shaking themselves, straightening. The sight chilled Ullen's flesh and he stared, utterly appalled. Great Gods! Will nothing stop these Avowed? They are relentless. Like the Imass.
Greymane turned to him, wry humour in his eyes. ‘As you said, Ullen. They're too many. But the odds have levelled somewhat, I think. Now is my chance.’ Before Ullen could object the man ran down to the churned slope. If Ullen had had a helmet he'd have thrown it to the ground in frustration. ‘Dammit!’ He turned to his guard. ‘We have to follow him. We can't let him go alone.’
His guards, a mixed body of seven Malazan and Talian infantry, eyed one another, clearly unsure. ‘Our orders…’ one began.
‘Your orders are to follow me,’ Ullen said. Clenching his jaws, this one bowed his curt concurrence. Ullen turned to Moss, who nodded then lifted his chin to the field. ‘And we're not alone…’
Ranks of Imperial infantry were advancing from all around, small units pulling together from every direction. ‘Come!’ Supported by Moss, Ullen limped after Greymane.
The field was a charnel-house of trampled broken bodies. Stu
This was lunacy! Here he was with a broken right arm and a probable fractured skull searching for a nightmare out of the old wars of continental subjugation – and the worst of those! A champion that, should Greymane fail, could not be matched by anyone alive today; what could he possibly do? Ullen honestly did not know.
He glimpsed them, wrestling, crashing into wagons, rolling amid the wreckage, trading blows that echoed through the night. Greymane arose bent behind Ski
Ski
It was a shallow, rocky gully. They found Greymane lying amid stones at its bottom. The man was conscious, but barely so. Together all of them strained to drag him up the side. They laid him on the ground. His eyes – one carmine with blood from broken vessels – found Ullen's face and he snorted, shaking his head. ‘Cheating bastard. His blade's poison. Bastard poisoned me! Got me all riled up, he has. Lucky bastard. I almost used the sword on him – but not here… too close to the sanctuary it is. Who knows what might've happened?’
Ullen ignored the man's ramblings. His sword? What was the man on about? ‘Relax – we'll bring a healer.’ Ullen motioned one of his guards away. The man saluted and ran.
Ullen caught Captain Moss's eye, tilted his head after Ski
*
Conversation guided him through the detritus of burning equipment and scattered corpses. He caught sight of two men confronting Ski
Ullen started forward but stopped as another man stepped directly in his path – where on earth had he come from?. Moss lunged forward, sabres raised, but the fellow held up empty hands. He was an ironwood-hued Dal Hon, scarred, in a fine mail shirt. His long kinked hair was pulled back tied in a leather strip and he regarded Ullen as if he knew him. And the man did look… but no, that ca
The ghost rested a hand on Ullen's shoulder. ‘You've done more than enough, Ullen,’ he said in that voice that sent chills down Ullen's spine. ‘The field is yours. My congratulations. Choss, I'm sure, would have been proud. Now leave this to us.’ Then the man's closed features softened with affection and he motioned to the gathering duel: ‘Those two, I swear they did this deliberately. Knew I couldn't let them face him alone.’ And he jogged off. The encircling Avowed flinched from his approach and he slipped within, to the side of the two facing Ski
No – it ca
The three formed a triangle while the Avowed completed their encirclement. The newcomer faced Ski
Ullen was stu
But it was the duel between the Dal Hon and Ski