Kyembe turned to the wall and roared out in Garric. “You have come a long way for this little quarrel, Bear-Breaker!” He aimed his ring where Avernix’s heir stood, but dared not fire yet. A miss would just drive the conqueror’s son out of reach.

“Little?” Eppon snarled. “You slew my brother, you blood-eyed coward!”

Kyembe barked a hard laugh. “Would that I did!”

“Liar! You, that ugly little whelp and those three worthless whores came at him while he lay hindered by drink! It’s the only way you could have bettered any of us! Cowards! We would have fed you to the maggots in a fair fight!”

“You think so, oaf?” Kyembe’s lips curved into a grim smile. “Then come!” He pointed to his own sling. “Your hounds snapped my arm, and so we are equally crippled! That is as fair as anyone can ask! Come, and I will spit your heart on my blade all the same!”

“Oh no,” Eppon snorted. “It’s too late for any of that. Now I have you where I want you, cornered like any troublesome beast. Soon my warriors will seize you and hold you down and I - you red-eyed devil - will slowly hack your nethers clean off with my blade. Then, you can watch while your little friend eats them!”

“By the stars.”The Sengezian recoiled.

“What’d he say now?!” the Zabyallan demanded.

“You do not want to know.”

“But I also must give you thanks before your end!” Eppon’s voice soared. “You reunited me with that beauty in the armour! She’ll be my wife one day, and I can tell my sons how two thieves brought their mother to me!”

The Sengezian blinked, then remembered what he’d overheard in the camp. A Traemean knight! His mind must have been asleep not to see it! “By the stars!” he cried.

“Will you stop saying that!?” Wurhi snapped. “Or give me an answer, at least!”

“That knight in the hole!” he whirled on her. “She’s the one who broke that giant’s arm!”

“She did!?” the little thief snorted in surprise. “By all the gods, I should’ve let her up so she could do the other one!”

“That might not be a terrible idea.” Kyembe peered at the trees, measuring the distance from the tower to the pit.

Fifty paces or so.

A distance the small, but swift Zabyallan could cross in perhaps twenty heartbeats. “Wurhi, that knight is no friend of these villains.”

“I follow you. Even if she jumps us later, we could use her help now.” She followed Kyembe’s gaze to the trees. “But there’s fifty against two. Making that three won’t change much.”

“You saw what she did to those ogres, and her armour is thick. It will take a lot to put her down, and that’s valuable time for us.”

Her eyes narrowed and she chewed her bottom lip. “If that’s the best we’ve got, we’re really buried in the shit. But I sure as every hell can’t think of anything better. What’s the plan?”

“Look there.” He pointed. “Their numbers are low to the south. I will draw their attention and arrows. Make for it when I say.”

“You still there?” Eppon’s rough voice cut through the air. “Or did what’s promised to you make you faint like a child?”

“Oh no, we are quite fine! Merely discussing a problem you have!” Kyembe grinned ferociously.

“Problem?”

“You speak of finding your wife, but what of the gift l made to your skin?”

Silence.

Kyembe pushed further. “No doubt you had trouble exciting a woman before, but now you must be a true fright! Step out a little, so I can see you!”

“Quiet!” the giant barked.

“Tell me! Did the damage extend to your stem and fruit?”

“You dog! I’m going to gut you!” Eppon shrieked.

“But do not fear!” Kyembe roared back mirthfully. “I will aid that knight and you in the same stroke! She will not have to tolerate your foul touch, while you-“

The fire flared in his ring.

“-will see your precious brother again!”

Vroooosh!

The beam of hungry hellfire shot forth.

“Watch out, my lord!” Eppon’s bodyguards tackled the heir of Avernix to the side, but Kyembe merely aimed for the ground before him. A blast of flame roared up, and the warriors scrambled in alarm, trying to see if their leader survived through the explosion of soil and smoke.

He aimed swiftly in that moment, not bothering to heal the burns scorching his arm.

Vroooosh!

Distracted, an archer did not see the white beam until it drove into his chest. With a cut-off scream, hellfire consumed him down to a cloud of ash and vaporized bronze. The beam voraciously leapt for a second warrior, then another and another.

In a blink, four of their assailants had turned to floating cinders and molten metal.

While the others cried in shock, he called the flame again. His flesh cooked.

Vrooooosh!

This time, he struck earth near a clot of warriors, scattering them.

Vrooooosh!

Another column of smoke and soil burst upward.

To Kyembe, the beams were frustratingly slow to come, but to their assailants, it was as though the heavens had torn aside and the fires of perdition had come to rain upon them.

Scalding heat filled the air. Smoke rose. The stench of ash stung nostrils.

They fled to the trees quaking.

He continued to fire. The burns consumed his whole arm as the hellfire greedily exacted its toll. It was reaching his shoulder. The limb went numb and he had to prop it on the wall to keep firing. “Now, Wurhi!”

She’d paled, her green eyes fixed on the wreckage of his limb. “Your…your arm…”

“Now!” he barked.

Wurhi gave him a final look and launched herself over the wall.

Covering his agony with laughter, he loosed fresh hells upon the earth. Smoke and ash obscured much of the clearing. His body burned like cinders smouldering in a firepit.

Wurhi dropped down the last bit of distance on the tower and sprinted for the trees.

“One’s getting away!” a warrior roared, drawing back the string on his bow.

Gritting his teeth, Kyembe levelled at him.

Vroooosh!

The archer joined the floating ash and Wurhi disappeared into the green.

“There you go, you careless bastards.” Kyembe half laughed and half coughed, sliding down the cool broken wall. He pressed to his breast a hand outlined with golden light, letting the eldritch energy slough off the ruined flesh and bud more beneath. Arrows clattered against the wall behind him. He slowed his breath to calm his pounding heart as feeling returned to his arm - an itching agony that lessened as it healed.

“He’s done!” Eppon roared. “To the tower before he recovers!”

With a joined cry, the warriors rushed forth.

“Not you four! Take the dogs and follow the other! Don’t let either get away!”

“Run well, Wurhi,” Kyembe breathed, flexing his fingers as his flesh finally grew whole. Healed he might be, but that did nothing for the exhaustion falling over him. Wearily, he took up his sword. Enchanted steel shone in the evening light.

“Time to die. Or live.” He panted. “With any hope, it will be the latter.”