Darkwell - Douglas Niles [140]
As the cleric's gaze drifted across the waters of the firth, his jaw dropped in astonishment. What was that? For a moment, he thought he saw a mountain moving through the water… Slowly the shape of a great castle became visible in the mist.
By all the dark gods, what could this mean? In another moment, the fleet of longships became clearly recognizable, gathered around the base of the floating fortress like ducklings around their mother. How was it possible that an edifice of stone and mortar, clearly a mass of tremendous weight, could move thus?
The castle seemed to ride lightly upon the waters of the firth. For a moment, the cleric felt a flash of panic as he imagined he saw a rank of supernatural archers or fire-spitting war machines arrayed along the floating parapet. But as the edifice drew closer, he saw that, to the best of his knowledge, the fortress was abandoned.
The cleric watched the fleet approach for several more minutes, counting more than two dozen ships, plus that mysterious fortress. Reinforcements for the Ffolk, to be sure, though he wondered why they would come from the men of the North.
But still the servant of Bhaal did not worry. Certainly their crews numbered little more than a thousand men or so, and that, he knew, would be insufficient to turn the tide. Even as he watched, a rank of sahuagin warriors turned to face the fresh attack from the sea. The battle would still be won.
* * * * *
"What have you done?" shouted the king, advancing toward the form of the Great Druid. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Robyn, sprawled in the mud beside the Darkwell, look at her teacher with dull and horrified understanding. "You have betrayed us!"
"Betrayed?" Genna spoke in a flat tone, utterly devoid of feeling. "I serve my master faithfully."
Before Tristan's dumbfounded eyes, the sturdy figure of the middle-aged woman suddenly shifted, stretching and curving into the shape of a hulking bird. Its drooping head, bloodshot eyes gleaming, hung suspended from a crooked and malformed neck. A vulturelike beak snapped at him, and he stumbled back, almost too stunned to avoid the blow. Great black wings spread from the creature's sides, flapping slowly in an ominous gesture. Then the body shifted and wavered once more, becoming a shape burned into Tristan's memory at the homecoming feast. The king heard Robyn cry out in shock and pain as she, too, recognized the woman.
"You!" he gasped, seeing the spill of red hair and the fiery gleam in her eyes.
"It was you!" Robyn cried out beside him. Tristan couldn't tell whether it was in pain or in anger.
The young woman stared in shock at the metamorphosis of her teacher's body. Any semblance to Genna Moonsinger had completely disappeared. Slowly Robyn began to comprehend the corruption that had taken the Great Druid, culminating in the destruction of her scroll. Helplessly she looked to the ashes, already disappearing in the dark water, and then back to the red-haired face on the body before her.
That face twisted into the familiar sneer that had been the focus of Robyn's thoughts for so long. Once again hot rage burned within her, but this time the heat of her anger blazed toward this woman rather than Tristan.
And then the form shifted again, growing larger, looming over them and losing all semblance of humanity. The image of the redheaded woman vanished entirely, masked by a visage of black scales and red, gleaming eyes. It became a thing reptilian in nature, gigantic in stature. It became an enemy the king had slain once before.
"Kazgoroth!" The Sword of Cymrych Hugh sang a killing song in his hands… or was that the bard? He heard Tavish's ballad again, and his heart filled with hope, but it was a hope powered by an all-consuming rage.
"This time you will die!" he cried, advancing grimly toward the Beast. Its great tail lashed around the massive body, a heavy limb that could crush a human frame in an instant.
Tristan