The Tattooed Woman Pt. 28

A sword took him in the back, and he staggered, but swinging his spear in a blur he took the man's leg off at the knee in reply.

Backing up he grinned happily as he watched the survivors. There were eight left, and none were too keen to close with the mad bastard before them. The longer reach of the spear kept them temporarily at bay at least, but they spread out with obvious intent to encircle him.

Moving back past the horses he chuckled and lashed out, prodding the foul tempered brute he had chosen to ride in the side with the blunt haft of his spear. It reacted as he knew it would. Neighing wildly the beast went berserk and lashed out with shod hooves, taking a swordsman in the side and hurling him to the ground. Two other horses picketed nearby panicked and ran amok, and the advance of the assassins fell to chaos.

Rolling under a bucking horse he stabbed one man and cut the throat of another as they milled about in confusion. A stampeding horse ran over another swordsman and he spitted the unlucky fool as he floundered on the ground.

His hurled spear took a man in the chest, and he snatched up a sword from one of the fallen and charged. There were three, one attacked, one hesitated and the last turned to flee. In a swirl of steel, he battered aside the sword of the first and ripped his throat open before spinning and punching the pommel of his blade into the face of the second, the man fell and dragged the old warrior down with him. Chulainn dropped the sword with a snarl and viciously beat him senseless with his fists before staggering back to his feet. Pulling his bloody spear from a nearby corpse he eyed the running man and spat a gobbet of blood as he shifted his grip, "Fucking coward."

Drawing back his arm he leapt forward and launched the spear with a grunt of effort. It glittered as it flew through the air and Chulainn grinned as it unerringly took the fleeing man in the back.

Bleeding from at least a half-dozen wounds Chulainn stood panting and muttered, "I'm getting too fucking old for this shit."

The sound of sardonic applause interrupted his train of thought.

The Magister stood at the edge of the trees slowly clapping his hands and chuckling.

"Well done old warrior, I underestimated you, indeed, if any bore witness they might have sung a song or two of your last battle, and how you fought in defence of some mad old woman sitting lonely and alone among the forgotten stones of times long past. A pathetic last victory I think."

Wearily Chulainn bent to pick up another sword before straightening with a groan, "You talk too much," he spat and gave the man a bloody grin as he lumbered forward, "tell you what, lets skip the gloating and get to the killing."

The Magister laughed out loud and pointed at the sword, "You think to kill me, with that?"

His laughter turned to a demented giggling, his eyes burned yellow, and his voice echoed about the trees, "Let me show you what it is you face, look upon my true form Human, and despair!"

With a roar and a ripping of skin, a hiss of steam, a stretching of flesh and the cracking of bone the Magister transformed, and in but a moment a Dragon unfurled his wings and towered above the man.

Chulainn looked at the thing and grunted, peering about he spied a shield and fixed it to his arm before grinning again and hefting his sword, "Is that it? Fuck, for a moment I thought I was in trouble."

The creature's answering roar was interrupted by the voice of the crone, "You're wrong you know."

Rising from her seat she sniffed dismissively as she regarded the beast, "Mad I may be, old I most certainly am," she smiled and her dark eyes glittered, "but I am not alone."

The roar was deafening! The pillars shook at the beating of mighty wings and the impact of its landing was an earthquake. A brilliant flash of scalding heat caused Chulainn to reel backwards and shield his eyes and the only thing louder than the awful crunch of shattered bone and the rending of flesh was a squeal of pain and terror so piercing that it caused the very trees to shake.

When his vision cleared there was nothing left of the Magister save a great scorched streak across the ground that still hissed and sizzled perilously, and a massive splash of black blood that smeared tree and stone alike for yards.

He looked down at the old woman standing at his side.

"Fuuck!"

She smiled.