Azure bonds - Kate Novak [109]
Finally, the captain made up his mind. He motioned permission for Dragonbait and Akabar to move away from the pit. The crossbowmen kept their weapons leveled on the prisoners. The captain, having apparently sensed and caught Akabar's and Dragonbait's nervousness, moved away from the pit first, though he tried to appear calm and unperturbed as he leaned on his weapon. The other two men rested their swords on their shoulders.
The two adventurers moved cautiously through the rubble, away from the edge of the pit, until they stood with their backs against a half-toppled wall.
'"Try again, looter," the captain ordered. "I'm sure you can come up with a better story than a pit fiend."
Why is it one's friends will believe one's lies, but one's enemies are incapable of recognizing the truth when one speaks it? Akabar pondered. He knew better than to back-track. "Sir," he said urgently, "as one civilized man to another, I assure you, there is indeed a horrible creature in that pit, no mere fiend, but an ancient god."
"I've heard of you 'civilized Southerners'," their discoverer said, "you're baby-killers, every man-jack of you. Worship gods darker than those who squat at the Keep."
Either bards are spreading the tales about baby-killers in every society, Akabar thought, or they're neglecting their duty to disabuse people of these absurd notions.
The captain, not quite as obtuse and single-minded as his subordinates, gave an order to a crossbowman. "Soldier, take a look down the pit. The rest of you, watch this pair. If they so much as sneeze, skewer them."
The crossbowman climbed over the rubble to peer down into the pit. "Looks fine to me," he insisted, holding the lantern over his head. "Kinda full. We're going to have to find another dump soon. Hey, there's a body in there, a wo-"
The crossbowman never had a chance to finish his sentence. A slimy tendril whipped up over the edge of the pit, wrapped around the man's neck, and yanked him over the edge. The sickening crack of shattering bones followed.
The monster crested the rim of the pit and then rose above it. It had used the slimy refuse of the midden to increase its size and its stench was overpowering. But more hideous were the thousand singing mouths, some pitched gratingly high, others grindingly low, some smaller than a babe's, a few the size of a dragon's maw, all lined with gleaming, sharp fangs. In the center of the mass facing them, clustered around the immobile form of Alias, a set of mismatched eyes scanned the soldiers.
"Fire!" the captain shouted, flinging his own lantern at the beast. The glass shattered and the burning oil spread out over the rotting decay. It smoldered briefly, but the waste that made up the creature's body was too wet to ignite. Crossbow bolts disappeared into the garbage, but did not seem to cause much damage, except for puncturing an eye. Three more eyes opened around the injured eve, staring cross-eyed at the thick, green ichor oozing from it, then turned their attention to the fighters.
The mound of rot and refuse towered over its attackers. Wet tendrils, as thick as broomsticks, dripping with mire, lashed out from the body and struck three of the soldiers, including the captain. They were all dragged screaming into a different large, open maw, feet first. The Abomination bit each man in half before swallowing.
Dragonbait clutched at Akabar's robes, pulling him toward the city wall. Akabar tore loose from the lizard and planted his feet firm. "Look," he said, unable to tear his gaze from the horror that was Moander, "I'm sorry about what I said before. You were only doing what you thought best. Now you have to go get Ruskettle. Go get help-Elminster or Dimswart. The Harpers-anyone you