Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [87]
The spear point stabbed the snow as Gyaidun followed through with his swing, bringing the club on its leather leash around full circle. It struck the spearman's forearm with such force that bone tore out from muscle and skin, splattering blood onto the snow. The scream died on the barbarian's lips as Gyaidun stepped in, bringing his club round again to smash the man's skull. He stepped over the corpse, and a tide of wolves overtook him, passing in a thunder as their wide paws tore through the snow.
Lightning cracked the sky and struck the ground amidst the wolves. Thunder hit Gyaidun like a club, knocking the wind from his chest, and he saw steam and great gouts of snow explode into the air, the charred bodies of wolves flying in every direction. Some of the wolves had been far enough away to escape the first strike. They scattered, and when the second bolt hit, only three died. The few survivors leaped away from the carnage, then resumed their charge. Gyaidun followed, and from the corners of his eyes he saw Vil Adanrath joining them. The elves were lighter and more fleet of foot than Gyaidun, and they shot past him.
Over the barking of wolves and the battle cries of men and elves, Gyaidun heard Amira shouting, "Jalan! Jalan!"
Gyaidun was still several paces away, wading through the knee-deep snow, when four Vil Adanrath attacked the Siksin Neneweth swordsmen. Beyond them, the dark sorcerer raised his arm, shouted an incantation, and thrust his fist at the elves. As he pointed at each of them, they cried out and stopped in their tracks. Two dropped their swords and collapsed to their knees, and another stumbled in the snow and fell forward. The Frost Folk were on them in an instant, their blades rising and falling, throwing streams of blood into the air.
The air in front of Gyaidun seemed to ripple and thicken. His eyes were drawn up to the dark sorcerer, still seated on the back of his massive wolf. The air between them seemed to vibrate, like the plucked string of a harp, and from the inside out, Gyaidun's head went suddenly cold, as if he'd swallowed mouthfuls of snow. Only this was worse. Everything behind his eyes seemed to freeze and crack, and pain such as Gyaidun had never known hit him. He could not move, could not breathe, could not even close his eyes.
Then he saw the fire, tumbling and flickering like a burning sparrow, strike the dark sorcerer in the chest. Tongues of flame burst to life in the ash-gray robes, and the pain evaporated from Gyaidun like water thrown on a hot rock.
Gyaidun took a deep breath as the normal aches and weariness of his body settled back into place.
The Siksin Neneweth, blade held high, was almost on him by the time Gyaidun saw him. Gyaidun had just enough time to stumble out of the way. The cold metal passed his throat so close that he felt the wind of its passage. His backside hit the snow, and he scrambled backward, yanking on the leather leash round his wrist to bring his club within reach. The snow hindered his progress, and the Siksin Neneweth was quick. The pale barbarian lunged forward, his sword held back, his arm ready to thrust. Gyaidun knew he couldn't get away. Perhaps he could dodge aside and escape with no more than a deep gash, but the white bastard was too close, too damned clo-
An arrow-long beam the color of warm lantern light struck the Siksin Neneweth in the shoulder, turning him and knocking him back. It was all Gyaidun needed. He lunged and brought his club around in a wide arc, sacrificing accuracy for power so that it only struck his foe's arm-the one not holding the sword. The heavy iron shattered bone and brought a cry of pain from the Siksin Neneweth. The man stumbled away so that Gyaidun's return strike