Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [45]
The dwarf harrumphed and shifted on his haunches. 'Then, please, Shan-take the magic out o' this old thing… I've a bad feeling that we'll all be needing it, right soon now. Please?"
Reluctantly, staring into his beseeching eyes, Shandril grasped the cold, heavy head of the war hammer and pulled at its magic with her will, feeling the tingling flow begin.
At that moment, a twig snapped in the woods, not far away. Narm's head jerked up, and he threw down his spellbook to peer into the trees.
Deig closed Shandril's hands firmly around the war hammer and told her, "Keep on at it, lass!" Then he rose, took two rapid, gliding steps to where his axe was propped against a rock, and swung it up to the ready.
The attackers came in a rush once they saw the camp alert: a score or so of Zhentilar warriors, nets and clubs in their hands.
Delg looked around and cursed bitterly. Their fat, wheezing host was nowhere to be seen.
"So I let my guard drop for once. Just once!" he snarled as the Zhents rushed down upon them. "Get your back against a rock, lad! Over here, where my axe can guard your back"
Narm had no time to rush across to him. even if he'd wanted to; a Zhent swung a club at his face in the next instant. The young mage ducked coolly, and two pulses of light burst from his hand into the face of the Zhent, who staggered, roared, and clutched at unseeing eyes. An instant later, Narm's dagger was in his throat.
As the Zhent toppled, Narm sprang away-right into the folds of a weighted net, backed up by a flurry of clubs. He went down without a sound.
Delg had time for no more than a glance at the young mage. His axe flashed as fast as his strong shoulders could swing it, but height made it hard for him to cut the nets-nets that were settling over him from above by. twos and threes. He was soon entangled. Then the nethurlers drew the net ropes taut with their own great weight and reach. The dwarf was dragged down.
Shandril dropped the crumbling war hammer-it had been old, its enchantments all that still held it togetherand rose from behind where Delg was struggling. Flames leapt and raged in her eyes.
The men who hauled on the nets that held Delg down were only two paces away. Without a word she flung herself into them, letting spellfire rage from her hands and mouth. She crashed bruisingly against armor, heard men snarl and then shriek amid the rising, roaring flames and then they fell silent.
Shandril drew the flames back into herself, and looked down at the blackened, smoking corpses. Beside her, Delg was fighting his way free of the scorched remnants of webbing as the next wave of Zhentilar rushed at them.
Shandril hurled spellfire again-ragged and faltering fire. She swallowed grimly and threw out one hand.
Fire streaked from it to lash the Zhents bending over Narm. They staggered and fell, shouting hoarsely amid raging flames. Shandril raised her other hand to burn the warriors charging at her from the edge of the clearing. A moment later, however, they laughed in triumph as her spellfire rushed outward, then sputtered and died away in their faces.
She saw the cause: it came out of the night in front of the warriors, a band of utter darkness like a fence or an impossibly wide shield-a black band floating before them as they came. Just behind the warriors trotted a man in robes-a Zhentarim wizard!-with triumph shining in his dark eyes.
Shandril snarled and lashed out at their feet with spellfire, aiming below the dark band. The wizard hastily lowered his creation-but he was too slow to save the feet of one running Zhentilar. Spellfire blasted, and the man's boots vanished. With a shriek of agony, the charging warrior toppled forward into the darkness and was gone, his cry cut off suddenly. As the wall of darkness advanced, Shandril could see the remains of the man, twitching on the ground-two trunkless, footless legs.
Shandril gasped in horror-and then let her hands fall to her sides as the band of darkness came to a halt an arm's stretch away,