Laban lay on the ground hit by a shot from a sling. Stones shot professionally from slings had immense power and could easily kill people or at least had the power to stun them even through armour. However, a sling was not an easy weapon to master. When Mabon turned around, he saw one of the sea-people warriors fall to the ground. Dil-Shad was a master of the sling, too, and had retaliated the shot at Laban. But still their leader was knocked unconscious and they were in trouble. The two of them could not stand against foes in open battle. Especially since Mabon was not sure if he could summon the help of his goddess again so soon.
Mabon and Dil-Shad faced seven warriors who were now less than ten meters away. One had turned and was running away, possibly to call for enforcement. Mabon couldn’t perform any essential miracle without preparation and was tired from his spell in the castle anyway. So, he grabbed an explosive jug from his personal bag. The jug could not really harm people but stun them for some moments which would give Mabon and Dil-Shad time to jump off the wall. The explosive jug wasn’t even close to being a miracle but simple alchemy, nothing but a foolish imitation of divine intervention made by the miracle priests of Arianrhod for times when the starlight wasn't visible at the sky, preventing their miracles to be performed.
He threw the jug at the warriors and... nothing happened. It didn’t explode!
“But why?", thought Mabon. "Has the powder gotten wet?" But there was no time for musing over it now. They had to fight six warriors and he was sure it would be the last thing he would do in life. So, he drew a long dagger from his waist and got ready to face his own death. Without Reza, Laban and Brendan he and Dil-Shad could not even dream of handling half a dozen armored warriors. Dil-Shad fired another shot and hit a warrior in the chest who groaned in pain but didn’t get down. Still, his movements slowed down, and he gasped for air, but he would for sure join the battle sooner or later. So, still there were five warriors now right in front of them. Dil-Shad dropped her sling and also drew a dagger, ready to die at Mabon’s side.
She didn’t fear death. She had faced death often in life, had seen many people die and had often thought that death would be a better destiny than life on earth had presented her. Her life as a slave and her escape through the desert had not been easy, and she was far away of counting her life as felicitous and comfortable. But she felt sorry for Mabon’s death and that she hasn’t got the chance to get more intimate with him. Brendan, Laban and Reza? Sure, they were her comrades and had come to her aid once when the need was dire. But Mabon was more to her than a fighting brother. They had a mental connection, and Dil-Shad had wished more than once that he would dare to tell her what he felt for her. She has had a feeling for a while that he would reciprocate her emotions. But it was too late and to her surprise she felt a tear in her eye. The last time she had cried was –
With a loud cry a foe charged her and swung his mace dangerously over his head. She had to use all of her artistic skills to dive under the huge hit that would have crashed her head in like an apple under a hammer. She stepped away in an angle of 45 degrees and put her large knife to the upper leg of her foe. The warrior squeaked in pain and agony when the blade cut his trousers and went through flesh, muscles and sinews directly to the femoral artery and ripped her apart. Blood sprayed from the open wound and in between seconds the warrior collapsed and died on the ground.
But now she was facing two enemies while Mabon was fighting for his life against another two. The foe she had hit with her slingshot was swaying his own sling, just waiting for an opportunity to put a metal ball into her or Mabon’s head. Mabon cried, because he was cut on the chest with an ugly blade that looked like a mixture of a butcher’s knife and the tool of a torture master. But he was still standing and even could repay his wound with a slash into the face of the foe who had hit him.
Again, Dil-Shad had to avoid a crushing attack. She could not try and parry such hits with her knife. But this time the luck had left her. Instead of ramming her knife into the foe’s stomach like she had intended, she stumbled and crashed onto the ground. Her face burned and she felt blood pouring from her nose. The warriors laughed. “Come on, Kabash, let’s take this missy to the barracks. We can still have a good price for her after we have had our way with her!” One grabbed her by the hair and tried to pull her up. But the man’s grip was weak and instead of his disgusting laughter she heard a burble and then felt something warm dropping onto the back of her head. An eye’s blink later she again crashed onto the ground, and the warrior crashed onto her. Then she lost consciousness.
From the corner of his eye Mabon saw what was happening with Dil-Shad and he released his last powers. With a war cry that would have shaken the walls of the palace of the High King of Massalia he kicked his opponent between the legs and tried to stab the other one’s throat. But the warrior had anticipated an attack, deflected Mabon’s movement and hit his right forearm with a brutal blow of his spiked club. It broke at once and Mabon fell down howling in pain. He let go his dagger and grabbed his arm seeing both warriors taking up their weapons to deal him the last hits of his life. He closed his eyes and wished for a last appearance of his Goddess to save Dil-Shad whom he would give his life for gladly.
What Mabon hadn’t seen during his last attempt was that an arrow was protruding from the mouth of the warrior that wanted to bring Dil-Shad up. And because the sorcerer had now closed his eyes, he neither saw that actually an appearance had entered the stage to carry out its bloody trade. Behind the warrior with the slingshot Brendan had emerged, unseen and unheard. After he had shot the first enemy, he cut the throat of the warrior at the rear end and shot directly another arrow at the man who had broken Mabon’s arm. He killed him hitting his right eye. The arrow got stuck deep in the head. The surviving warriors turned and looked at a figure that had come over them like a demon of revenge. Brendan was completely soiled with blood and looked as if he had killed a herd of sheep with his teeth only minutes ago. He cried some incomprehensible curses and stormed against the warrior standing in front of Mabon while throwing his dagger at the other man, hitting his chest. He fell to the ground moaning.
The last one standing took up his club but Brendan was faster. Like a cat he jumped with his large hunting knife blade down in the right hand. In that moment Mabon opened his eyes. He saw a huge figure flying through the air and landing knees first on the chest of his opponent. The sea-warrior fell to the ground and cried in despair while Brendan stabbed his throat again and again sitting on his upper body. Brendan had hit the aorta and literally seas of blood were spilled. Mabon’s face got covered. It tasted like metal and generally unpleasant, and normally Mabon disgusted this kind of bloodshed. But not today: Mabon was happy about the massacre Brendan was carrying out to take revenge on the sea-people who had treated Dil-Shad that badly.
Dil-Shad! He had to help and comfort her! Moaning in pain he got up while Brendan was still treating the throat of the miserable sea-warrior. Mabon rolled the dead body off Dil-Shad who was still unconscious. He fondled her head gently and whispered word of comfort into her ear – an odd sight amid this brutal slaughter. Some moments later Dil-Shad opened her eyes, gave Mabon a weak but thankful and intimate smile and clinged to Mabon’s thin body. He pulled her close, forgetting the surrounding bloodshed for some moments.
“Get up, sweethearts, we have to go!”, yelled Brendan and terminated their intimate situation. Laban was steadying himself on Brendan’s shoulder. Beside Brendan, the soldiers looked like crap. Dil-Shad’s face was bruised and swollen, the nose was broken, and she had lost her lateral incisor. Mabon’s arm was heavily damaged, and the point of the lower arm bone was sticking out of the flesh. Laban was still groggy; the stone must have hit him really hard at the head. One of the boar tusks which were sewn onto the helmet had come off through the force of the impact. “Go, go, go!”, screamed Brendan again and kicked Mabon’s buttocks who wasn’t moving but standing and gazing in horror at the dead, his broken arm and Dil-Shad’s maltreated face. Then he began slowly walking to the crevice, holding hand with the woman, saying nothing.
The Kom-Broghian warrior dragged Laban to the crevice, looked through and yelled to Reza who was still standing there: “Try and catch Laban and then help Mabon. His arm is broken!” Then he pushed Laban through the crevice and got back to pick up his bow and collect the other weapons he and his comrades had dropped in battle. Brendan jumped only when Mabon and Dil-Shad had gone. In the moment before the jump, he saw over the shoulder more sea-warrior arriving, looking amazed at the battlefield, cursing and swearing revenge.
