Her maddening laughter floated back to him, and foam flew from the
warrior's lips. Further and further into the wastes she led him, till he
saw the wide plains give way to low hills, marching upward in broken
ranges. Far to the north he caught a glimpse of towering mountains, blue
with the distance, or white with the eternal snows. Above these
mountains shone the flaring rays of the borealis. They spread fan-wise
into the sky, frosty blades of cold flaming light, changing in color,
growing and brightening.
Above him the skies glowed and crackled with strange lights and gleams.
The snow shone weirdly, now frosty blue, now icy crimson, now cold
silver. Through a shimmering icy realm of enchantment Amra plunged
doggedly onward, in a crystaline maze where the only reality was the
white body dancing across the glittering snow beyond his reach--ever
beyond his reach.
Yet he did not wonder at the necromantic strangeness of it all, not even
when two gigantic figures rose up to bar his way. The scales of their
mail were white with hoar-frost; their helmets and their axes were
sheathed in ice. Snow sprinkled their locks; in their beards were spikes
of icicles; their eyes were cold as the lights that streamed above them.
"Brothers!" cried the girl, dancing between them. "Look who follows! I
have brought you a man for the feasting! Take his heart that we may lay
it smoking on our father's board!"
The giants answered with roars like the grinding of ice-bergs on a
frozen shore, and heaved up their shining axes as the maddened Akbitanan
hurled himself upon them. A frosty blade flashed before his eyes,
blinding him with its brightness, and he gave back a terrible stroke
that sheared through his foe's thigh. With a groan the victim fell, and
at the instant Amra was dashed into the snow, his left shoulder numb
from the blow of the survivor, from which the warrior's mail had barely
saved his life. Amra saw the remaining giant looming above him like a
colossus carved of ice, etched against the glowing sky. The axe fell, to
sink through the snow and deep into the frozen earth as Amra hurled
himself aside and leaped to his feet. The giant roared and wrenched the
axe-head free, but even as he did so, Amra's sword sang down. The
giant's knees bent and he sank slowly into the snow which turned crimson
with the blood that gushed from his half-severed neck.
Amra wheeled, to see the girl standing a short distance away, staring in
wide-eyed horror, all mockery gone from her face. He cried out fiercely
and the blood-drops flew from his sword as his hand shook in the
intensity of his passion.
"Call the rest of your brothers!" he roared. "Call the dogs! I'll give
their hearts to the wolves!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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