For a few seconds, Torben lay dazed in a bed of nettles, unable to bring himself to move. He’d managed to save himself from the worst of the fall, but the momentum had sent his head smacking into the ground. His vision swam as his brain tried to make sense of what had happened. Behind him he could hear branches snapping underfoot and what must have been Gwilym’s voice shouting at him, but it sounded as if he were miles away.
Then, the adrenaline kicked in again. Torben rolled onto his back just as the Lupine lunged at him with its spear. The heavy iron point buried itself deep into the ground, inches from his face. The Lupine didn’t bother trying to prize the spear out of the ground and strike again, but threw himself onto Torben, jaw gaping, going for the throat.
Torben managed to raise
