Kell's Legend

rose again, jaws crunching, and paced them through the army of tents…
    Only once did Kell meet two albino guards, and the old man moved so fast they didn’t see him coming. He broke a jaw, then a neck, then knelt on the first fallen guard, took his face between great paws, and wrenched the guard’s head sideways with a sickening crunch. Kell stood, took one of the albino’s short black swords, and looked over at Saark.
    “Help me hide the bodies.”
    Saark nodded, and realised Kell danced along a line of brittle madness. He had changed. Something had changed inside the old warrior. He had…hardened. Become far more savage, more brutal; infinitely merciless.
    They eased along through black tents, past the glowing embers of fires, and Kell pointed. It had been Leanoric’s tent, in which Kell had stood only a few short hours before. Now, Kell knew, Graal’s arrogance would make him take residence there. It was something about generals Kell had learned in his early days as a soldier. Most thought they were gods.
    Kell stopped, and held up a blood-encrusted hand. Saark paused, crouched, glancing behind him. Slowly, Kell eased into the tent and was gone. Saark felt goose-bumps crawl up and down his arms and neck and went to follow Kell into the tent but froze. He glanced back again, and as if through ice-smoke General Graal materialised. Behind him marched a squad of albino soldiers, heavily armed and armoured, this time wearing black helmets decorated with swirling runes. Graal stopped, and smiled at Saark, and a chill fear ran through the dandy’s heart like a splinter.
    “Kell?” he whispered. Then, louder, eyes never leaving Graal, “Kell!”
    “What is it?” snapped Kell, emerging, and looking at Graal with glittering eyes. “Oh, it’s you, laddie.”
    “Looking for this?” said Graal, lifting Ilanna so moonlight shimmered from her black butterfly blades.
    “Give her to me.”
    Graal rammed the axe into the ground. Behind him, the albino soldiers drew their blades. “Tell me how to make her mine, and you will live. Tell me how to talk with the bloodbond.”
    “No,” snapped Kell.
    Graal stepped forward, head lowered for a moment, then glanced up at Kell, blue eyes glittering. “I will grow unhappy,” he said, voice low.
    “I have been pondering a strange puzzle for some time,” said Kell, placing his hands on his hips and meeting Graal’s gaze. “How is it, lad, that you have the face and skin and hair of these albino bastards around you…and yet your eyes are blue?” Kell scratched at his whiskers. “I see you have the fangs of the vachine, and yet the vachine are tall, most dark haired, not like these effeminate soldiers behind you. What are you, Graal? Some kind of half-breed?”
    “On the contrary,” said Graal, taking another step closer. His eyes had gone hard, the mocking humour dropped from his face, and Saark realised Kell had touched some deep nerve with his words. “I am pureblood,” said Graal. “I am Engineer. I am Watchmaker. But more than this-” He leapt, arms smashing down, but Kell moved fast and blocked the blow, taking a step back. “I am one of the first vachine; the three from which all others stem.”
    Kell grinned. “I thought I could smell something rotten.”
    Graal snarled, and lashed out again, but Kell ducked the blow, moving inhumanly fast, and delivered a right hook that shook Graal. The general whirled, rolling with the blow, taking Kell’s arm and slamming him over to smash the ground. Kell rolled, as Graal’s boots hit the frozen earth where his face had been. Kell rose into a crouch and launched himself, grappling Graal around the waist and powering him to the soil. Atop Graal, Kell slammed his fists down withpower, speed, accuracy, three blows, four five six seven, his knuckles lacerated and bleeding and Graal twisted, suddenly, throwing Kell to the ground where he grunted, and came up. They leapt at one another with a crunch, and suddenly locked, heaving, a match for one another in strength, heads clashing, and Saark who had been eyeing the five albino soldiers uneasily saw long fangs eject from Graal’s mouth and screamed, “Kell, his teeth!” and Kell twisted, following Graal’s head with a mighty blow that sent Graal reeling to the ground. Kell stood, chest heaving, blood on his face and his fists.
    Graal climbed to his feet and stood, and smiled through his blood. “Your strength is prodigious,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Too