Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [6]
"Vil Adanrath?" said Walloch. "What's that mean, eh?"
"It means you'd be wise not to anger him."
"Piss on you and the vildonrat," said Walloch. "Off with you both, or you'll join the wench. I could get a good price for you, big one. You'd make a fine pit fighter, I think."
A crackle of leaves and branches, and Walloch turned to see all but one of his Tuigan men running away. He now stood with only one Tuigan, the Nar, and the two men holding Amira.
"Jodai, what's the meaning of this? Your men just lost their promised gold!"
The remaining Tuigan swallowed hard, his gaze still fixed on the elf. "Keep your gold, Walloch. We'll keep our blood. Only fools anger the vildonrat." The Tuigan sheathed his blade, bowed to the pale elf, then turned and fled after his fellows.
"Damned cowards!" Walloch called after them. "Keep your blood! Ha! Forget your gold, you bastards! You'll lose your blood, too, next time I see you!"
The two men holding Amira looked after the Tuigan, but the Nar kept his eyes on the newcomers.
"Go after them," said the tall man. "Leave the woman and go. We'll take care of your friend holding my arrow."
"Piss on him!" said Walloch. "And you! You know who I am?"
"You're a slaver. The caravan trails are thick with them this time of year."
"I am Walloch! Battlemage and master of the arcane arts of Raumathar!"
The tall man raised his head and sniffed. "You smell like a slaver."
Walloch stiffened, puffed out his chest, and took a step closer to Amira. He raised the point of his rapier toward her. "Maybe I kill her first, then you, eh? This is no ordinary blade, my friend. I pulled this from the corpse of a great wizard that died hundreds of years before your whore of a mother first sold herself to your father."
The tall man glanced at Amira, then said, "Durja! Aniq, Durja!"
"Mingan! Aniq, Mingan!"
Amira jumped, for it was the pale elf who spoke, his voice both light and cold.
"What's that, eh?" said Walloch, and Amira could hear fear and anger in the slaver's voice. "What's that you're saying?"
Amira saw the tall man's grip tighten on his bow. Walloch must have seen it, too, for his sword arm stiffened, aiming the point of his blade at them.
"Enough of this!" said Walloch. "Sil-!"
A black shadow struck the slaver's arm. Amira heard the harsh shriek of a raven mingle with Walloch's own shout of surprise. An instant later the man at her right gasped, squeezed her arm so hard that he tore skin, then released her and fell. An arrow protruded from the juncture of his throat and shoulder. His heels hammered the earth as he jerked at the arrow, and he began to shriek.
"Silo'at!" said Walloch.
Amira heard a crackling hiss. She looked up in time to see a funnel of frost spew from Walloch's blade and envelop the trees and brush-but the tall man and the elf were nowhere to be seen.
"Get him!" Walloch roared. "Kill that son of a whore! Now! Now!"
"In the dark?" said the Nar. "You're mad!"
Snarling, Walloch pointed his sword at a large tree. "Kelenta!" he shouted, and a sparkling orb, no larger than a pebble, shot out from the tip of his sword. It tumbled and grew in size as it flew, seeming to feed on the air itself until it grew to a huge ball of fire that struck the tree full force. The autumn-bare branches exploded, and the entire tree became a great torch, lighting up the night. Amira flinched and looked away. The blinding light lanced right through her skull.
"There!" said Walloch. "Now get them!"
Something whipped past Amira's face, so close that she felt the wind of its passage, then the man holding her left arm screamed and released her. Amira sat down hard and found herself looking at the man, who shrieked as he yanked at the pale shaft of an arrow protruding from between his ribs. Amira was looking right at him when the second arrow struck him just below the chin.
Amira's numbness snapped, and she lunged for the dagger at the dead man's belt even as he hit the ground.
"Kill her!" Walloch shouted.
The bonds were so tight that she could barely feel