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blueish venom marked their clicking mandibles. One of them scuttled towards him with eye-blurring speed. He lashed out with his blade, slicing it in two. Purple stuff sprayed forth from its broken body. Where it hit, Kormak’s flesh felt numb.
    He saw more and more of the spiders descending. One of them was on top of a prostrate man. Kormak sprang and slashed it, slicing off armoured legs and hacking through its torso. He caught a brief glimpse of Jaethro’s face. It was contorted like the features of a man having an apoplectic stroke. His limbs twitched. “Can’t move,” he said. His voice sounded thick as if he was having difficulty moving his tongue. “Poisoned.”
    His lips moved slightly as if he was trying to say more but only a stream of gibberish came out. His eyes were open wide with horror though. More spiders emerged from the undergrowth. Kormak kept moving. Arrows smashed into the ground nearby. A pack of the arachnids raced towards him. He leapt into the air, bringing his feet down on the back of one, lashed out and split another in two, sprang again as a third leapt at him, rolled to his feet and turned, slicing the spider’s forelimbs. They came off and its face ploughed into the mulch. Kormak struck again aiming at the eyes, slicing through the head, pulling his blade clear, whirling and striking, slaying anything that got within his reach.
    He caught sight of Grogan being raised in the air, already cocooned in webs, a massive spider embracing him with its limbs, head near the man’s neck as if it was feasting on his blood. The same thing was happening to other captured woodsmen.
    A group of hunters were making a last stand in the shadow of a great tree. Around them packs of spiders moved. Arrows whizzed out the branches overhead. Kormak wondered if he should make a break for it, realised that there was very little chance of winning free of pursuing elves in this blighted forest.
    It appeared as if his end had finally caught up with him. Perhaps unlooked for his last day was upon him at last. He commended his soul to the Holy Sun and threw himself into the huge pack of spiders, hacking and cutting with lightning speed, chopping down everything that got within reach of his blade.
    Nothing living could withstand the fury of that onslaught. He left a mound of dead, dying and crushed spiders behind him as he cut his way to the men. Seeing him coming on, the hunters gained heart and threw themselves into the fray with redoubled fury, hacking down the creatures that harried them.
    Suddenly a sharp pain stung his shoulder. He twisted his head and saw a dart sticking there. Numbness was already starting to spread from the tainted tip. A spider dropped down towards him. He slashed at it, cleaving it in twain, but his reactions were getting slower as icy numbness spread from the wound. More spiders came towards him. Another arrow impacted in his chest. His mail partially deflected it, but once again he felt cold weakness flow into his veins from the point of impact.
    He forced himself to keep moving. His sword flickered in his hand. Death came to more of the scuttling monstrosities, but he was getting slower and slower, and the strength had started to spill out of him like wine from an overturned cup.
    His legs felt as if they were sculpted from ice. His sword seemed to weigh as much as a tree trunk. He lifted it above his head and brought it smashing down on the nearest spider. It was a poor blow, badly struck, but the razor edge still sheared chitin and removed a limb. The spider let out a strange chittering hiss and its mandibles closed on Kormak’s leg. He felt something being pumped into the wound. It burned for a moment like liquid fire then something smacked into the back of his head and darkness took him.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    KORMAK OPENED HIS eyes. It was night. Occasional moonbeams broke through the forest canopy over head. Glowing fungus provided the rest of the spectral illumination. There was a