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Beside the execution block stood Alda, expressionless, his gaze fixed on
Sabat. Behind him in the darkest shadows the Hirschlanden Warrior floated
silently. Sabat glanced behind him, thought he heard the sobs of Lola amidst
the waiting throng. Kent would be there somewhere too.
Sabat fingered his sword blade, gingerly tested its sharpness, for without
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doubt this was to be the weapon of execution. He sighed. He had killed often
and brutally in the past, emotionlessly, yet this was different. His enemies
had no chance, like blasting a sitting rabbit with a shotgun. It would have
been far better to have engaged in some kind of combat to the death with Boyce
and Hurst. Certainly he would have killed them, but at least he would have
obtained some kind of satisfaction from their deaths. Now there was no
challenge - except to kill them cleanly when they deserved to suffer.
A faint greyness in the eastern sky; the hours of the psychic Oke Priests were
drawing to a close. Sabat wondered if they would exist once the daylight came.
Another day, another time-change, a brief surrender to the twentieth century.
The final hour was nigh.
Waiting.
An orange ball tipped the distant skyline, one penetrating ray, so sudden and
precise, striking the stone, bathing" the bared necks of the sacrificial
victims in a blood red aura. Sabat's sword went up, a glittering arc of death
powered by every ounce of strength in his tired body. He heard the cries of
the watchers, steeled himself for the impact.
The blade came down with tremendous force; his arm shuddered. Hurst first, a
cut as clean as that of a guillotine, blood spouting as the head toppled
forward, rolled a few feet and came to rest facing him. Eyes that still saw, a
mouth twisted into a mute cry of agony and hatred.
He swung the sword again, aware that the throng had moved in closer, lusting
for the sight of spilled human blood, jostling one another for a better view.
Bishop Boyce's neck was thick and strong, bull-like. Sabat powered the blow,
double-handed this time, felt the blade cut, then jam. Blood spurting, a
writhing body with a half-severed head, twisting to try and free itself. Sabat
exerted all his strength, used his foot as a lever on the stone; pulled,
extricated the execution instrument.
Clumsy, sickening. He felt the bile in his throat, drove again with all his
might, grunted his satisfaction as the steel cut true, grated on stone, sent
the head spinning.
Oh Jesus God, Boyce was on his feet, a tottering monstrosity that jetted blood
high in the air from a mangled stump, arms flaying, seeming to point
accusingly at Sabat. You did this to me; look at what you've done!
Even the Oke Priests fell back, cries that could have been fear because never
before had they known a victim rise from the sacrificial stone. Then, like a
headless Christmas cockerel, exhausted by a last burst of defiance, the bishop
sank to the ground, twitching in a pool of his own blood.
A faint sickening thud like a rolling wood that had lost its impetus on a
bowling green but having just enough momentum left to nudge the jack had Sabat
jerking round. Boyce's head had hit Hurst's, both of them coming to rest in a
slight identation in the ground, a bizarre last reunion in blood, dead eyes
blazing their hate for the man who had done this to them.
And suddenly it was dark again, an inexplicable phenomena that obliterated the
rising sun, whipping up an icy wind that tore at Sabat's clothing. Screams. He
recognised them as Lola's, turned to look for her in the blackness only to
find his way barred by the floating apparition that was The Hirschlanden
Warrior of L'Impernal.
'You have done well, Sa . . . ba . . . t.'
'I have fulfilled that which was demanded of me,' Sabat clutched the sacred
sword to him, now prepared to use it if there was no other alternative. 'Where
is Kent? What have you done to the woman called Lola?'
'Your colleague is safe and wiil join you in that grove of trees where you
left your vehicle. As for the woman, she will live but will go back with us
into the night before the sun comes again.'
'You're tricking me!' Sabat's features were grim as he dropped into a half
crouch. 'Show them to me.'
'Alas, I cannot for the Oke Priests have already left, and taken her with
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