Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [9]
"Swollen as it is, at least it remains human," Tanalasta said. "Whatever you have made of yourself, it was a poor trade."
A metallic clamor began to echo down the stairs. Xanthon glanced toward the sound, and the rat swarm poured up the stone steps. The men started to curse and yell, then one screamed and a tremendous crash reverberated down the spiraling passage.
Hoping to take advantage of the distraction, Tanalasta screamed for help, then shot her free hand across her body and slipped a bracer onto her wrist.
Before she could put on the second, Xanthon caught her arm and plucked the bracer from her grasp. "You are too kind, Princess."
The luster of the metal faded at once, and the gruesome wound in Xanthon's head healed before Tanalasta's eyes. He discarded the band and grabbed the other one. As he pulled it off, he gave Tanalasta's arm a vicious twist. She felt the bone snap, but heard only the briefest crack before her scream drowned out the sound.
A pair of guards stumbled out of the stairwell cursing and trying to kick the rats off their legs. The first lowered his halberd and drove it into Xanthon's ribs, pushing the ghazneth off Tanalasta and pinning him against the wall. The blade did not penetrate, however, for it was made of steel and only weapons of cold-forged iron could wound a ghazneth.
Xanthon slapped the halberd aside, then grabbed the dragoneer by the back of the helmet and smashed his unarmored forehead into the tower's stone wall. There was a sickening crack, and the man went limp. Xanthon finished the second soldier with even less trouble, blocking the attack with one arm, then catching the man beneath the chin and simply tearing his jaw off.
Tanalasta's gorge rose with pain and revulsion. Clutching her broken arm to her chest, she pushed her way through the rat swarm and braced herself against the wall. A series of deep thumps reverberated through the tower as warriors outside began to hammer at the door, but Tanalasta knew better than to think they would break through the thick oak. She thrust her good hand into her cloak, trying desperately to slip her shaking finger into her commander's ring.
Xanthon ignored the hammering at the door and stepped across the room. He squatted and pulled her hand from her pocket, then plucked the ring from her grasp. The wound in his head was almost completely healed now, and the scalp grew back as he drained the magic from her ring.
"Do you know who is doing this to you?" he asked. "It is important that you know who is killing you."
Tanalasta nodded. "Xanthon Cormaeril." She tried to keep the fear out of her voice. Whether or not she was going to die, she did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her terror. "I know. Your cousin was a traitor, and you are too. May the both of you rot in the nine-hundredth pit of the Abyss."
Xanthon grabbed her jaw. "I was no traitor until your father stole our lands." He squeezed until a bone snapped, and Tanalasta nearly fainted from the pain. "But we Cormaerils have never been ones to hold grudges. Vengeance is so much sweeter."
Something cracked in the door, and the hammering began to intensify. Xanthon glanced over his shoulder, then pulled Tanalasta up by her broken jaw. He reached around to grab the back of her neck with his free hand, and she realized he meant to rip her head from her shoulders.
A loud crack reverberated through the room, and the hammering at the door grew louder and faster. Xanthon's fingers dug into Tanalasta's neck, and she knew she would never survive until the thick oak splintered. A sudden calm came over her. She closed her eyes and began to pray, begging the Great Mother to watch over her soul and that of her unborn child.
"Open them!" Xanthon hissed.
Tanalasta croaked out something she meant to be What?, then was struck by the irony of Xanthon's vengeance. Bitter laughter began to boil up from deep within her, racking her battered body and grating at the ends of her broken