Viperhand - Douglas Niles [119]
A black-shafted, steel-tipped arrow suddenly cracked against Halloran's breastplate, ricocheting across the roof. "Over there!" he shouted, looking up to see the band of drow on the roof, a hundred paces away. Several of them had dark longbows raised, arrows nocked and ready.
The battle surged with growing intensity below the legion's commanders as the Kultakans fell back to the very shadow of the palace walls. Nexalans pressed all around them, and the howls and shrieks and whistles rang through the night.
"Come," said Chitikas, his whispered tones clearly audible. "Afoiv we will strike!"
"Now?" Erix demanded. "A few minutes ago, we could have saved Naltecona, and now we attack? Are you too late for everything?"
Chitikas looked at her inscrutably. Poshtli grunted in pain as a black arrow tore into his shoulder. Pulling the missile free with a grimace, he looked toward the band of drow. Cordell, too, looked at the dark elves, and then at the raging fight below.
"Fight your battle here!" Hal barked at his old commander. "We'll go after them-come on!" He and Poshtli started forward, with Erix and Shatil running after them. Halloran saw the drow preparing for another murderous volley and wondered how many arrows he would endure before he and his companions crossed the distance to the dark elves.
"This way," Chitikas hissed, suddenly driving his wings downward. He settled the coil of his body around the four humans, and again that white light flared on the rooftop. Halloran felt a sickening, whirling sensation as his feet lost contact with the boards beneath them.
But suddenly they stood on the roof again, just a few feet away from the drow-and behind them! Chitikas teleported them as swiftly and accurately as the drow themselves! "Get the witch!" Hal grunted, chopping the head from a drow who stood between him and Darien. Poshtli charged beside him as the startled elves whirled to face the sudden Attack.
Another drow stepped before Hal, protecting Darien. He raised a blade of midnight black, and Helmstooth clashed against the weapon with a ringing of hard steel. But the power of Hal's pluma proved dominant, and the drow howled as the bone in his arm snapped. Halloran stared into Darien's widened eyes, feeling a brutal, angry thrill at the fear he saw there.
Then, once again, the band of Ancient Ones blinked out of sight.
The Nexalan warriors, led by the fanatic bloodlust of the cult of the Viperhand, drove their Kultakan enemies against the walls of the palace. With the Payit already vanquished-slain, routed, or captured-the Kultakans now felt the full brunt of the assault.
Hoxitl watched the battle from the Great Pyramid, knowing that many hearts were coming to Zaltec. The initial flush of his ecstasy did not wane; if anything, it grew as the battle raged throughout the night. He saw his warriors using nets, ropes, and long hooks to drag Kultakan warriors from the ranks of their comrades. A long file of prisoners already stretched around the pyramid, gathering in the temple below.
He awaited only the dawn to commence the feeding of his god.
Down on the blood-slicked stones of the courtyard, Tbkol, war chief of the Kultaka, understood the grave peril of his situation. His warriors fought with discipline and savagery, killing even as they died. But the enemy numbered too many, and with the high palace wall behind them, they couldn't fall back any farther. Overhead, bolts fired from legion crossbows showered from the wall into the ranks of the attackers, but there were pitiful few crossbows when compared to the endless thousands of attacking Nexalans.
The son of Takamal wondered if he had led his people into annihilation by placing their trust and their service in the hands of the conquering legion. The battle here was lost, he knew, and all that remained to him was to try to save as many of his warriors as he could.
Grimly he spread the word, and the Kultakans tightened their ranks. Upon a whistled signal from their leader-a sound