‘Quiet,’ Tannis hissed again. ‘You are both old women.’
Church felt a prickling in the pit of his stomach and quickly surveyed the sparsely wooded area through which they moved. The bright moonlight illuminated the scrubby grass, raising phantom shades. Nothing moved. The only sound was the gentle tread of their horses’ hooves on the sward.
Tannis noticed Church’s alertness. ‘You see the enemy?’ he asked quietly.
‘No, but I can feel something – can you?’
Tannis raised his head as if sniffing the wind. ‘Yes, something foul.’ A look of surprise crossed his face. ‘I smell blood.’
Church understood: all their senses were becoming heightened. ‘Redcaps,’ he said. ‘They’re lying in wait somewhere.’ Yet he couldn’t imagine where. The only movement in the landscape was a few drifting strands of mist amongst the trees.
Owein brought his horse up alongside Church and Etain’s. ‘I hear nothing.’
‘There’s nothing there—’ Church began.
‘No, I hear nothing – no screech of owls, no bats in the trees, no movement of branches in the wind.’
Church realised that Owein was right. The whole area felt deadened. Church’s attention moved back to the drifting mist. It was now clinging to the bottoms of the trunks and had taken on a faint, unnatural greenish colour.
Church felt a weight in his chest that reminded him unpleasantly of the spider-poison. ‘Ride!’ he shouted. The word had barely left his lips when it dropped like a stone in the sound-deadened zone. No one else had heard him. Their attention was fixed on the eerie green mist, which was now billowing towards them.
Church saw Branwen mouth, ‘Goddess be with me,’ felt Etain stiffen against him. They were all mesmerised.
A sudden shift in time jolted him: the mist was now neck-high and only fifty feet away; and again, now only twenty feet away. Shapes moved inside it.
Church’s attention was caught by activity to one side. On a ragged outcropping of granite stood a tall, thin man in black robes wearing an emotionless silver mask that caught the moonlight. He carved intricate patterns in the air with sweeps of his robed arms.
Church only had a second to register this before there was a ferocious roar and five Redcaps erupted from the mist. They were as fast as thoroughbred horses, their muscled legs shaking the ground. Close up, the sight of the human body parts stitched together was sickening.
There was no chance to flee. Church jumped from the horse and drew his blade. It released a keening sound, showering blue sparks everywhere. A Redcap hit Church like a wrecking ball before he even had chance to swing the sword. The impact smashed him to the ground, and the Redcap was instantly upon him like a wild animal, head shaking furiously as its jaws snapped for his throat. The only thing that kept Church alive was the blade, which he had managed to get between him and the Redcap as he fell.
The iron smell of blood was heavy in the air and congealed gobbets showered down on Church from the flayed human skin flapping madly against the Recap’s head: a Celtic tattoo, a navel, on the Redcap’s shoulder a piece of scalp with hair still attached. And beneath that, something black and gleaming: a spider like the one that had been fixed to Church’s arm.
Piggy eyes glared down at him as the jaws clamped closer. Its breath smelled like a butcher’s shop. Suddenly all motion stopped, and a gout of stinking blood burst from the Redcap’s mouth and splattered across Church’s face.
Etain’s knife was buried in the Redcap’s ear. She must have struck the blow a few seconds earlier and it had taken that long for the Redcap to realise it was dead, for she was already a few feet away.
When Church threw the Redcap off him, she darted forward to retrieve the knife, flashing him a look of unadulterated pleasure at having saved his life.
The Redcaps ran back and forth like jungle cats. Conoran had managed to spur his horse fifty yards away, but it was clear the Redcaps were only interested in the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons.
Tannis, Owein and Branwen had abandoned their horses and were performing an intricate ballet as they ducked attacks and lashed out with their weapons. With his axe, Owein took the top off one of the Redcaps’ heads. Branwen rammed her spear in another’s back, while Tannis took on the remaining two with his sword. But the Redcaps were too fast and too powerful and would not be contained for long.
The deadened atmosphere had faded with the attack. ‘Don’t waste time with them!’ Church yelled as he sliced away the lower jaw of the Redcap that was thrashing around with Branwen’s spear still protruding from it. ‘They’re being controlled!’ He pointed to the man in the silver mask.