A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [102]
As the humming and crackling of the bolts died away into occasional snappings, Raulin heard both Craer and Glarsimber sobbing with the effort of swinging blades in battle-the baron because of his wounds, and Craer because he was used to springing about and hurling daggers from afar, not standing blade to blade against armored brutes twice his size and playing "batter thy foe down" with swung steel.
Embra's lips tightened in determination, and she spent her last few feeble bolts carefully striking down men close to the Four and their three friends, to win them some respite. When Tshamarra saw what the Lady Overduke was doing, she did the same, raking the nearest foes with spitting lightnings that where they didn't slay, clawed at visors or ran up under gorgets, to leave men blinded or gasping to breathe through seared face.
Suddenly the helm, shrunk to scarcely the size of Raulin's gathered fingertips, fell away into ash, and the spell ended. Raulin looked rather dazedly at the two tall, grinning sorceresses as they leaned across him, brushing his face in a very distracting manner, and said, on Embra's part, " 'Tis always nice to welcome a new friend! Lady, have my hand!" and on Tshamarra's part, "Lady Embra, we've not been properly introduced. I am Tshamarra Talasorn-and I am honored to fight at your side!"
The two women kissed-quick pecks on cheeks that nonetheless forced Raulin to lean back sharply or be smothered-then broke apart, Embra smoothly plucking the shield from Raulin's grasp as she did so.
"I don't want to use this yet," she murmured, as Craer and Glarsimber shuddered, stamped, and blew great gulps of air like winded horses right in front of them, and Hawkril clapped steadying arms around both men, "but if I have to…"
"Onward! In at them, you fools!" Bloodblade roared, from the rear of the throne chamber. "Their magic must be near spent! Can you not sword down three men, a boy, and two maids? Strike now! Strike for Aglirta!"
A few armaragors struggled to obey, but found themselves shoving against the dead, their ways forward choked with bodies. With a grin Hawkril turned his warsword crosswise like a staff, and fended off corpses that might otherwise have toppled, holding the slain upright and packed together. The men around Bloodblade put down their shoulders and heaved, and here and there about the room bodies clattered and clanged as they fell between stones or over their fellows into heaps-but for the nonce the jam held, and the three weary nobles of Aglirta could lean on their swords or each other, and snatch more breadth.
Embra kept the shield up to just below her eyes and peered over it, keeping careful watch. Any moment now one of these iron-heads would remember that maces, daggers, and even swords can be hurled, and they'd be facing a hail of spinning steel.
Wordlessly Raulin reached out and took hold of the shield for her, holding it up as he had the helm, and with grateful glances the two women pressed in against him to shelter behind it.
"Move, Three curse you!" Bloodblade shouted across the room at warriors he didn't know were all dead, and then turned to the swordcaptain at his side. "Where are the Serpent-priests?"
The man spread helpless hands. "There were some here when we came in, Lord, but-"
Bloodblade threw back his head and roared with anger. "Right!" he bellowed as he brought his chin back down. "Where are those wizards?"
"A-all dead, Lord, save one left witless by that blast in the sky. I saw one in the boats, but he was dead on the stairs up from the dock, later. I… think he'd been stabbed in the back."
Bloodblade growled again, and then blew out his nostrils like an angry stallion, and snapped, "Right, then. Well enough. Our swords have brought us this far, and our swords will take us this last, little way to that throne yonder! Forward-throw aside bodies when you find them! Clear a way to the regent's last few sycophants, and sword them down!
His bellow was answered