Kurik nodded. ‘Are we ready?’ he asked.

They all nodded, their weapons in their hands and their muscles tense.

Kurik and Berit pulled out on the torch rings and inched the wall aside slightly. ‘Anything yet?’ Kurik hissed to his son.

‘Nobody’s there,’ Talen replied. ‘It’s a short corridor with just one torch. It seems to go back about twenty paces and then it turns to the left. There’s quite a bit of light coming from beyond that turn.’

‘All right, Berit,’ Kurik said, ‘let’s open it all the way.’

The two of them slid the wall the rest of the way open.

‘Now that is very, very clever,’ Bevier said admiringly. ‘The labyrinth down here doesn’t go anywhere at all. The real route to the temple is up above it.’

‘Let’s find out where we are – in the temple or back at the throne-room,’ Sparhawk said. ‘And let’s be as quiet as we can.’

Talen looked as if he were about to say something.

‘Forget it,’ Kurik told him. ‘It’s too dangerous. You just stay behind the rest of us with Sephrenia.’

They moved out into the short corridor where the single torch near the far end provided a dim, flickering light.

‘I don’t hear anything,’ Kalten whispered to Sparhawk.

‘People waiting in ambush don’t usually make noise, Kalten.’

They paused just before the corridor turned sharply to the left. Ulath edged to the corner, pulled off his helmet and took a quick look, his head darting out and back once. ‘Empty,’ he said shortly. ‘It seems to turn right about ten or fifteen paces further on.’

They moved on around the corner and crept along the short passage. Again they stopped at the corner, and Ulath popped his head out again. ‘It’s a kind of an alcove,’ he whispered. ‘There’s an archway that opens out into a wider corridor. There’s a lot of light out there.’

‘Did you see anybody?’ Kurik asked him.

‘Not a soul.’

‘That should be the main corridor out there,’ Bevier murmured. ‘The stairs that lead up out of the maze to the real route to the temple should be fairly close to the end of the labyrinth – either at the throne-room or at the temple.’

They rounded the corner into the alcove, and Ulath again took a quick look. ‘It’s the main corridor, all right,’ he reported, ‘and there’s a turn a hundred paces off to the left.’

‘Let’s go up to that corner,’ Sparhawk decided. ‘If Bevier’s right, the hallway beyond the corner should lead out of the maze. Sephrenia, you stay in here with Talen, Bevier and Berit. Kurik, you guard the door. The rest of us will go and have a look.’ He leaned close to his squire and whispered. ‘If things start to go wrong, get Sephrenia and the others back to the room at the foot of the stairs. Slide the wall shut and lock it.’

Kurik nodded. ‘Be careful out there, Sparhawk,’ he said quietly.

‘You too, my friend.’

The four knights stepped out into the broad, vaulted corridor and crept along towards the torchlit corner ahead. Kalten followed the rest of them, turning often to keep watch to the rear. At the corner, Ulath briefly poked out his head. Then he stepped back. ‘We might have known,’ he whispered disgustedly. ‘It’s the throne-room. We’re right back where we started from.’

‘Is there anybody in there?’ Tynian asked.

‘Probably, but why bother them? Let’s just go on back to that staircase, slide the wall shut again and leave the people in the throne-room to take care of their own entertainment.’

It was as they were turning around that it happened. Adus, followed by a score of Zemoch soldiers, burst from a side passage not too far from the entrance to the alcove, and he was bellowing at the top of his lungs. Cries of alarm echoed into the corridor from the throne-room itself.

‘Tynian! Ulath!’ Sparhawk snapped, ‘hold off the ones in the throne-room! Let’s go, Kalten!’ Then he and his blond friend dashed back towards the opening where Kurik stood guard.

Adus was far too limited to be anything but predictable. He savagely drove his soldiers on ahead of him and slouched forward, a brutal war-axe in his hand and an insane look in his pig-like eyes.

It was too far. Sparhawk saw that immediately. Adus was much closer to the arched entrance to the alcove than he and Kalten were, and there were already soldiers between him and his friend and the archway. He chopped a Zemoch out of his way. ‘Kurik!’ he shouted, ‘fall back!’

But it was too late. Kurik had already engaged the ape-like Adus. His chain-mace whistled through the air, crunching into his opponent’s armoured shoulders and chest, but Adus was in the grip of a killing frenzy, and he ignored those dreadful blows. Again and again he smashed at Kurik’s shield with his war-axe.

Kurik was undoubtedly one of the most skilled men in the world when close fighting was involved, but Adus appeared totally mad. He hacked and kicked and bulled his way at Kurik, pushing and flailing with his battle-axe. Kurik was forced to retreat, giving ground grudgingly step by step.

Then Adus threw his shield aside, took his axe-handle in both hands and began to swing a rapid series of blows at Kurik’s head. Forced finally into one last defence, Kurik grasped his shield with both hands and raised it to protect his head from those massive blows. Roaring in triumph, Adus swung – not at Kurik’s head, but at his body. The brutal axe bit deep into the side of his chest, and blood gushed from his mouth and from the dreadful wound in his chest. ‘Sparhawk!’ he cried weakly, falling back against the side of the arch.

Adus raised his axe again.

‘Adus!’ Kalten roared, killing another Zemoch.

Adus checked the axe-blow he had aimed at Kurik’s unprotected head and half-turned. ‘Kalten!’ he bellowed back his challenge. He contemptuously kicked Sparhawk’s friend out of his way and shambled towards the blond Pandion, his piggish eyes burning insanely beneath his shaggy brows.

Sparhawk and Kalten abandoned any semblance of swordsmanship and simply cut down anything in their paths, relying more on strength and fury than upon skill.

Adus, totally insane now, also chopped his way through his own soldiers to reach them.

Kurik stumbled out into the corridor, clutching at his bleeding chest and trying to shake out his chain-mace, but his legs faltered. He stumbled and fell. With enormous effort, he rose to his elbows and began to drag himself after the savage who had struck him down. Then his eyes went blank, and he fell onto his face.