Black wizards - Douglas Niles [93]
"We must do something." whined the king, turning back to the wizard.
"I have my most trusted assistant on his trail."
"When will your man catch him?" demanded the king.
"Very soon, I am sure. Now, why don't you take your mind off this? Do something to amuse yourself! Would you like another prisoner put to death?"
The king shook his head angrily. He would not admit it to the wizard, but the execution of Darcy O'Roarke had been troubling him for several days. He dreamed of her defiant laugh in the face of the headsman's axe. She had vowed that her brother would avenge her. In truth, the king feared the wrath of Lord Roarke and all of his outlaw clan nearly as much as he feared the relentless approach of the usurper from Corwell.
* * * * *
The zombies, as if sensing the proximity of their goal, hurried forward. Many tripped and fell, but the others reached forward mindlessly, groping for the sustenance that glowed before them. They made no sound except for the scrape of their footsteps along the ground.
Genna and Grunt stood in the archway. The glow of the well cast its encouraging light against their backs, while the nightmare emerged from the darkness before them.
A clawed hand reached forward. Rotted flesh exposed its tough muscle and tendon, and white bone extended sharply from the last knuckle, where the flesh was gone completely. The bone caught the light from the well, and then Grunt stood upon his rear legs, blocking out the light.
Grunt slashed at the thing, and his six-inch claws tore the top half of the body away. Its legs lurched sideways once and then collapsed. With a roar, the huge animal lunged forward and crushed another rotted corpse beneath his paws. His jaws snapped shut on the barren skull of a skeleton, crushing the bone to splinters. The monster staggered aimlessly until it fell, though it continued to twitch and jerk across the ground.
More zombies lurched over the bodies of their fellows, to be met by Genna and her long sickle. The Great Druid had expended the last of her magic, but her muscles were driven by the might of the goddess as she struck and cut. Genna did not try to destroy each zombie – that would have taken too much time, too many blows. Instead, she slashed at knees, calves, thighs, and hips, immobilizing the creatures.
The other druids, standing beside wolves, boars, or their own human comrades, were drawn into the fight as the attack spread along the ring of arches. Isolde of Winterglen saw the horror approach. She stood with five gray wolves, and they savagely pressed back the undead. Sickles and staffs and clubs fought bony claws, for now all of the druids had spent their magic.
And finally the creatures reached Robyn's arch – the last one. Skeletons and zombies emerged from the night, seeking her flesh and blood. The sight of the eyeless sockets, staring from gruesome skulls, no longer terrified her. She raised her hands and threw the first of the acorns – the fire seeds – at the first fight of the enemy. It sizzled into the leading zombie, burning it to ashes. Taking care to aim, she threw the others. Each one ignited at the feet of an attacker, burning it away.
Then she gripped her staff and brought it crashing down upon the skull of the nearest skeleton. The bony thing dropped to the ground, and she quickly smashed another.
Kamerynn bucked and kicked beside her, crushing a skeleton to bone fragments with his heavy forehooves, and then impaling a zombie on his horn. He tossed the limp body aside as he reared above more skeletons, crushing skulls to his right and left with savage kicks.
Newt buzzed forward, slashing with his claws and sharp teeth at the loose flesh of the zombies, pulling great hunks of skin and meat off the rotting corpses. Then the faerie dragon hovered, blinking rapidly, and focusing upon the ground. He pointed and chanted quickly.
A purple monster burst from the ground in the path of several zombies. Green, glowing claws reached for