A goblin vaulted from the saddle at him. In each hand it held a rusty blade. Its expression spoke of a desire to carve his flesh as a butcher might carve a pig. Kormak extended his sword and impaled the creature. With a screech of agony it lashed out at him with both weapons. Kormak lowered his blade and let it slide off. At the same time he turned sideways so that his foe’s weapons slid past him.
He glanced around. Boreas stood beside Karnea and Sasha, hammer smeared with blood from where he had hit his opponents. Sasha whirled her brand, keeping the wolves at a distance. Otto’s men stood in a tight knot weapons facing outwards, ready to confront their attackers. Otto himself lay on the ground, beneath the corpse of the wolf Kormak had killed. His eyes were wide and he looked scared that someone might notice him and do away with him. Kormak caught a glint of fear in Otto’s eyes as their gazes locked. With a desperate effort the prospector threw the beast’s corpse off. It was as if he was scared that Kormak might attack him while he lay on the ground.
Kormak knew he would have to watch his back. What a man like Otto feared most was usually what he would do himself given the chance. Even as that thought struck him, Otto sprang, raised his hammer and said something to his men. His eyes widened and he pointed a warning at Kormak. The Guardian risked a glance and saw there was nothing there. He turned as Otto and his lads swept towards him, weapons raised. Clearly they intended to kill him in the chaos of battle when no one would notice.
He parried the blow of the hammer, and stepped aside eluding the blow of one of the prospector’s swords. He cut at the handle of the hammer, splitting it and separating two of Otto’s fingers. The big man’s eyes went wide and Kormak’s blade slashed his throat. He lashed out killing two more of the prospectors and the rest turned to flee. Kormak made sure they were gone before giving his attention back to the conflict. He needed to locate Karnea and Sasha. They were nowhere to be seen, lost in the chaos of battle. He had been ordered to keep one alive and made a promise he would do the same for the other.
The camp was full of wolves and scuttling goblin figures. The spindly little humanoids called to each other in high-pitched gibbering voices. Kormak saw Heidi wrestling with a group of three on the ground. They were crawling all over her, trying to stab her, and bite her with their sharp teeth. He strode across and killed them with three quick strokes. The big woman rose to her feet, shaking. She was bleeding from a dozen bites and cuts. She pulled her cleaver from the skull of one of the little monsters and began to hack at a body in a frenzy of fear-fuelled hatred.
Not all of the goblins were attacking with insane ferocity. Some were scuttling through the tents, grabbing things. What they took seemed quite random. Here one danced, wearing a man’s shirt. It looked like a long dress on the goblins small form. Another lay sprawled on the ground and poured rot-gut whisky into its mouth. Others were fleeing from the camp carrying anything they could. Some were struggling to pull heavy chests or large statues. They were quite prepared to face their own brethren in defence of their ill-gotten gains. Kormak saw two brawling so hard they rolled into a campfire, scattering burning wood and hot ashes.
The wolves were no different, one moment they attacked with mad ferocity, the next they were pulling forth a corpse as if to take it and devour it at their leisure. Their disorganisation seemed to be the only thing that kept them from over-running the camp.
A hail of short spears, more like darts than javelins descended in a cloud around him. He swept them from the air with his blade and looked around to see who had thrown them. Overhead he saw what looked like a flock of giant bats. Saucer like eyes looked down and he thought he heard whooping goblin cries coming from their backs. More missiles descended, hitting humans and goblins alike.
A horn sounded from nearby. Kormak glanced around looking for the source. There was a pack of goblins, larger and leaner even than the others, mounted on white wolves that looked even more fierce than the rest. At the centre was a massively muscular goblin. In each hand he held a blade. Another pair of arms were folded across his chest. A chain of skulls and teeth descended from his neck. There was a look of intelligence and calculation about him that made him different from any of the other goblins. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed the blade in the Guardian’s hands, as if he had seen it before. If the creature was truly Graghur then he had. Graghur had fought at Brightmere over a thousand years ago when Areon the Bold had slain the Old One Masarion with it.
Graghur was bigger than the other goblins, almost as tall as a man, and with his enormous build he probably weighed more than Otto had. The wolf carrying him was the size of a plough horse and could not be a natural creature. Curls of flame emerged from her nostrils. When Graghur saw Kormak looking at those, he smiled, his mouth becoming wider and wider until it was larger than his head, and his teeth looked like daggers.