Sword Destiny by Robert Leader Read Free Book Online Page B

furiously hurling his remaining javelins at every suitable Maghallan target within reach.
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    The banner of the lion’s paw was another that flew recklessly through the heaving mass of fighting men. Prince Devan was also hunting for Sardar, crashing his war chariot through the yielding Maghallan ranks with a hot-blooded thirst for vengeance equal to that of his brother. He slashed his great sword rhythmically from side to side, scarcely aware of the shrieking men who vanished beneath his flying wheels or reeled bleeding from his path. The crush of battle turned his desperate, snorting horses, making them defy his control of the reins so that he too failed to cleave his path all the way through to Sardar. Instead he found another opponent to meet him in gladiatorial combat.
    For this day Sardar had allowed his generals, Durga and Kamar, to lead the front ranks of his forces, and it was the black leopard claw banner of Durga which suddenly flew boldly in Devan’s path. Durga was a huge warrior in black body armour with a high-plumed black and silver helmet. The battle-axe he carried was already whetted with blood and his bull roar of defiance carried clear above the tumult of the battle. He thrashed his pair of horses and charged his own battle chariot full tilt at Devan, the two horse teams hurtling at each other in a head-on collision course.
    The screaming, plunging horse teams were not quite as suicidal as their masters, and at the last second, each team shied to one side, although the chariots crashed heavily in passing. Devan swung his sword in a mighty blow which Durga deflected with his arm shield, although the force of the impact shattered the shield and almost broke his arm. In the same second, Durga’s double-bladed axe whistled past Devan’s head, crashing down to slice a great splintered bite from the sidewall of his chariot.
    They skidded past each other, and then they both hauled on their reins to bring their horses round and back. Again the chariots drew up side by side, the walls touching, and the two men traded massive blows. Without his shield, Durga wielded his battle-axe with both hands, but Devan was faster and the relatively lighter sword kept the Maghallan general on the defensive. Both of them had dropped their reins in order to fight and their horses reared and plunged, tugging the two chariots back and forth. Their wheels had locked, frustrating the efforts of the frantic horses to break free. One of Devan’s horses suddenly changed its tactics and hurled itself sideways against its harness. Spokes shattered and sheared. Durga’s chariot fell heavily on to one side as one wheel came off and rolled away. Devan’s chariot was tipped upward and the prince of Karakhor struggled to maintain his balance. Durga saw his chance as he was flung forward and made one mighty swing with his axe. Devan’s chariot tipped over in the same second and he was thrown clear as the axe crashed down. Again a great cascade of splinters flew up from the disintegrating chariot.
    Devan rolled in the dirt, his sword wrenched from his hand by the force of the impact. A dozen Maghallan foot soldiers would have rushed in to finish him but Durga bawled at them to stay back. This was still a battle of champions and he was not about to be robbed of his glory. The black-clad general picked himself out of the ruins of Devan’s chariot, shook the dust out of his eyes and beard and raised the double-bladed axe again for the final deathblow.
    Devan saw it coming. He had lost his sword, but his circular arm shield still hung from his elbow by one half-severed leather strap. He tore it away as he rolled on to his back and flung the shield with all his strength like a discus. The whirling shield struck Durga across the eyes, just under the rim of his helmet, and snapped his head back. The gleaming axe head fell, but fell short.
    Devan scrambled to his feet, saw his sword through a haze of dust