The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 15

If Niall had the gift of truth-seeing, he would have fled at once. Easy as pie: cast a stun charge, accelerate and run away. He could run with the speed of lightning for a day and a night and reach Sliabh Mis Castle faster than any horse or even a kelpie. He would've probably got bloody sores on his feet and deadly exhaustion, but he would've escaped.

Niall Mac Nechtan was too stupid and arrogant to see the truth. Therefore, the truth was revealed to him gradually.

A sword flash on his right, on his left, he casted shock-armor on his left forearm, on his right arm, on the whole body, because the twin blades were striking from below, aiming for his groin, for his femoral artery, for his stomach, ribs, shoulder. Faolan Three Swords seriously reduced his chances when he fought with a single blade in their first duel. He didn't want to give himself away, obviously. Anyone who saw him wield twin swords would know immediately who he was. Like a steel mill, Cumal said, a deadly mill, an impenetrable barrier, he would have cut any human to pieces, but the shock armor of the Lord of Lightning is impenetrable, if only it wasn't so difficult to maintain it and throw lightning bolts at the same time...

Again the wolf shielded his master from a lightning bolt. Of course, the Yuizhen couldn't summon it in Airenn, he would have been recognized immediately. Even Niall, who had heard of him exactly once, recognized him. The damned wolf distracted Niall, blocked his line of vision, absorbed his deadly lightning bolts without any ill effect, only its fur bristled up and sparkled. It opened its fanged jaws, rushed between them, pushing Niall with its mighty shoulder. Kirins never attacked people, but what about the Tuatha Dé Danann? Did they count as people? Was it considered an attack to jump suddenly in Niall's path, to accidentally lash his legs with its tail, to growl behind his back, making him stumble and lose his balance?

Niall lost his patience and cast a lightning shield, trying to push both the beast and his master back. It was a very exhausting spell, but very powerful. Epic songs told it brought down riding kirins together with their riders. Why did the songs tell so little about the wars with the Kirinches? "And then Nechtan Mac Ethliu slew a hundred barbarians with one strike of his sword, and fifty more with one swing of his shield, and Roigh Mac Rowan was not far behind him, bringing down Dun Morna Mountain on the barbarians' heads, killing a hundred and twelve mortals, while Daire Mac Cormac pulled out of the ground a mighty oak and with one blow laid down fifty barbarians dead on the spot..."

The songs told nothing of giant wolves and such brilliant swordsmen as Faolan Three Swords. They also never told how the lightning shield, which was very similar in nature to the Queen's Shield, only delayed the wolf for a short time, and then it dug in its paws into the ground and pushed through the shield, making way for his master.

One lightning bolt after another was tearing the night apart. Finally, Niall managed to catch the blade of Faolan's sword in his palm, covered with shock-armor, and wrenched it out of the barbarian's hand with the help of his inhuman strength and his lightning magic. He jumped back and slashed the wolf with the blade, trying incapacitate it at least for a while, it was always getting in the way, blocking Niall's magic, making it impossible for him to use all his skills. The wolf jumped back and whined — cold steel works just fine on the demons from Angaine — and then the enraged barbarian hit Niall in the head with his fist, stunning him almost as good and proper as a lightning bolt.

If Niall had the gift of truth-seeing, he would have known that in a fight anything goes, that you could hit the enemy with you hand, foot, or a knife snatched from the boot. The Elemental Lords didn't do hand-to-hand combat, it was considered vulgar.

Niall didn't lose consciousness. He didn't even lose the shock-armor that covered his entire body. The ball of lightning remained hanging in the air, impassively illuminating the duel — the Elemental Lord could maintain such a simple spell even in his sleep. Niall just staggered, went blind for a moment, and Faolan caught him by the braid and threw him down to the ground. He put his knee on Niall's back and wound his braid around his palm, the same as when they were wrestling in bed, intoxicated with each other.

And then he cut off Niall's braid clean at the back of his head.

It was like...

Niall Mac Nechtan used to get sword wounds, to fall from a considerable height, to almost drown, to lose consciousness. Quite a few times he happened to fall under the table, utterly drunk, at the end of a feast, and slept like a log, oblivious to reality. The training at Ath Luain Castle had been harsh.

Nothing he had experienced before prepared him for this.

It was as if all the bones and tendons of his body were taken out at once, all of his blood drained, his intestines cut out. His knees gave way, he fell face down into the grass, feeling a monstrous, indescribable void devour him from the inside.

The shock-armor lasted a minute and disappeared. The ball of lightning lasted a couple of minutes longer. Then it began to flicker, fade.

Faolan kicked the fire, causing it to flare up. He gave a command in his own language, and two warriors threw more firewood into it. The flames got brighter.

"My lord!" shrieked Sencha, whom Niall had completely forgotten about. "My lord, run, don't think about me, I will..." He didn't have time to finish, what he would do: "I will be fine", "I will not hold it against you", "I will be happy to die for my lord," and his mouth was clamped shut again.

With great difficulty, Niall rose to his knees and stared blankly at the band of gleaming silver that the barbarian chief triumphantly held high in the light of the fire. The Kirinches roared.

He raised his numb hand and touched the frighteningly short strands of hair sticking out in all directions, falling on his cheeks. He did not even remember himself without a braid, although once, in his childhood, or rather in infancy, his hair had been just as short.

The braid was optional, as the example of Cumal Mac Ruadh showed. Optional, but convenient: a channel for drawing and directing the power. The Elemental Lord's hair wasn't a container for his magic, just a conduit, which facilitated access to his element. Like the branches of a tree, spread out above the ground, soaking up the sunlight. Cut off the branches of a tree, and it won't die, but will weaken, wither away, stoop down. It will become an ugly stump, a shadow of its former self. Yes, sooner or later it will sprout new branches, new leaves — if it first doesn't fall under the woodcutter's axe. A lot of time will pass before it grows a new crown. But will it rival in beauty and power with the lost one?

Niall opened his hand and tried to summon a lightning ball — the simplest spell, the first one he had learned in his life. The magic was still in him, he could feel it. But it did not respond to the call, did not concentrate in the palm of his hand.

It was as if the world had collapsed, and Niall was standing among the rubble.

But this was not the end.

"Now we'll have a fair fight, Sidhe," said the barbarian with open mockery. He kicked the curved sword which Niall had dropped towards him. "With equal weapons, on the beaten ground."

Niall took hold of the sword hilt. It was flat, without a pommel, with an oval carved guard. It fit comfortably in his palm. A lightweight, well balanced weapon. Only one sharp edge, on the curve, unlike a straight double-edged sword of the Tuaths.

He clenched his teeth, muffling the desperate cry burning in his throat and attacked the barbarian with only one purpose: to kill.