Erebos by Ursula Poznanski Page A

that moment a part of the wall collapses, revealing a battle scene. Two barbarians, a cat woman, a werewolf, several dwarfs, three vampires and two dark elves are doing battle with four incredibly ugly trolls. One of them already has three arrows sticking out of his throat. They must be from the cat woman – she’s the only one with a bow. Another troll swings a lump of rock, and hurls it at the werewolf, who takes a giant leap to safety. Two of the dwarves are working with their axes on the third troll’s legs, aided by the larger of the two barbarians, who is flailing the troll’s back with his cudgel.
    A bluish oval floats above them all. It sparkles like a giant polished sapphire, turning slowly on its own axis. Is it a wish crystal? But it would be too big to take with him. The others – the fighters – are completely ignoring the thing. Anyway they’re far too busy. Sarius feels for the sword at his belt. It suddenly appears so harmless and small. He should probably hurl himself into the fray, but he doesn’t dare. One of the dwarves has blood dripping down under his helmet, running into his beard and pooling there. And yet the dwarf is fighting like a madman.
    Sarius takes a deep breath. No injury he suffers here can cause him real pain, no matter how genuine it looks. He takes a step forward, and then immediately reverses it to work out his tactics. The fourth troll is free. He has a vampire woman cornered; she’s trying to keep him and his morning star at bay with her long narrow blade. He hasn’t noticed Sarius yet.
    So, the troll it will be. Sarius quickly takes his shield off his back, raises his weapon and throws himself into the battle. He briefly feels embarrassed that he actually has to summon up the courage to do it.
    His sword bounces off the troll’s skin as it did off the wall, only this time it doesn’t make the slightest impact. The troll bellows derisively. He grabs the vampire with one hand and flings her into the air. She flails her arms, loses her sword and hits the ground with an ugly sound. The red sash she’s wearing around her waist goes dark grey – only a tiny bit of flashing red remains. The life meter, Sarius realises. It’s only now that he notices that all those fighting have something red on their outfits – mostly a chest harness or a belt like his own.
    The vampire must be aware of the danger she’s in. She crawls into the bushes. Her left leg is twisted out, and she’s dragging it behind her like a dead weight.
    The troll has lost interest in her; he turns and measures Sarius with dull eyes. Stringy saliva is hanging from his jaws. Sarius shrinks back instinctively. He hasn’t forgotten ‘You have only one chance to play Erebos.’ It can’t be over so soon, no way.
    The troll is plodding towards him – Sarius circles him lightning fast. He has to hit a sensitive spot, and quickly. He aims for the tendons on the lizard-like legs, and strikes.
    The troll bellows again, but this time in pain. Dark red blood, thick as syrup, wells up out of a wound. Stunned, Sarius stares at the broad trickle and notices too late that his opponent’s morningstar is spinning above him. He sees it whistling down and instinctively dives to the side.
    The spiky ball scrapes his shoulder. An ear-splitting squeal rings out, stabbing his brain like a red-hot poker.
    He falls. The troll is looming above him, looking down at him with stone-grey eyes, raising his weapon again. Then Sarius thinks he hears the sound of thunder through the painful buzzing. The troll staggers, revealing the larger of the two barbarians, who has appeared from nowhere and is trying to smash the troll’s backbone with his cudgel.
    The blow hits home, and Sarius’s monstrous opponent rears up. Another blow, and the troll sinks to his knees. He isn’t bellowing any more, just moaning. One last blow to the back of his neck, and he lies