Master of Chains - Jess Lebow [109]
Purdun cowered, casting a quick spell he had memorized for just such an emergency. A shimmering ball of opaque plasma surrounded his entire body, and the blast from Menrick's staff splashed harmlessly against its surface.
"I see you have learned much," said Menrick, circling around the glowing globe. "That old fool in his underwater tower taught you well."
Purdun nodded, looking out of his protective shell. "You should know," he said.
"Yes," purred the wizard vampire. "I imagine his teachings didn't change much from my time to yours." Menrick ran his finger along the edge of the magical sphere, the melee around them continuing to swirl and rage in the courtyard.
"You know, though," continued the old mage. "I suppose I should thank you."
Purdun didn't know what to make of this, so he kept quiet.
"There are a few advantages to being a vampire," he said, stopping in front of Purdun and glaring in at him from outside the sphere. "For instance. Magic is no longer my only weapon."
Menrick reached through the swirling plasma and grabbed Purdun by the throat. Taking a step back, he dragged the baron out of the protective bubble and bared his teeth.
"Now I will be the master." Menrick lifted Purdun toward his open mouth.
The baron felt his body shake. Menrick's grip on Purdun's tunic tightened and both men were lifted from the ground. The lord found himself hanging over the flagstones, the silk of his shirt gripped tightly in Menrick's clawed hands-the old vampire mage held in the air by two of Purdun's half-giant bodyguards.
Purdun put his boot on Menrick's chest and kicked off. The fabric of his tunic gave way, and the baron dropped to the ground, his chest bare.
Menrick thrashed against the bodyguards, flailing his limbs with preternatural speed. The old man hissed and clawed at the two silent half-giants, but neither of them budged an inch.
Scrambling to his feet, Purdun took a step back and looked into the eyes of his one-time mentor and friend, the vampire who had just tried to kill him.
"I am sorry, Menrick," he said. "I was sad to see you die the first time, but I will be doubly so the second."
Lord Purdun's saber flashed in the flickering light. It slid quickly through the withered flesh and brittle bone that had been Menrick's neck, and the old mage's head toppled from his body. The arms twitched for a moment, then the corpse of Purdun's old servant went limp.
"Put that somewhere safe," Purdun said to his two bodyguards. "We'll need to dispose of it properly when all of this is over."
* * * * *
Ryder looked down on the raging fight in the courtyard below. He couldn't have asked for anything better. To come out of the dungeon to find the Crimson Awl waiting at the front gate was all the justice he would ever need. Finally Zerith Hold would fall.
His brother and his wife may have betrayed him, but he would regain his family-he would return to the Awl and be embraced by them as a savior.
Looking over the familiar faces, he wondered who had been the driving force while he was gone. Who had taken over the role he had hoped Liam would fill?
The rest of the Awl finished making their way through the partially opened gate and portcullis. The last group to enter didn't seem all that interested in getting inside and walked casually into the Hold.
That's when he spotted the person he'd been looking for.
"Montauk." The name rolled off Ryder's lips with a certain respect and admiration. Ryder had never thought much of Montauk. He had always been a selfish, petty man. But Ryder was willing to overlook his previous opinion. He had been wrong in his characterization, and he would admit that to Montauk when they met again.
In the meantime, however, there was the little matter of dealing with his brother.
Placing a hand on the ledge, Ryder leaped over the low wall and into the courtyard below, his chains clanking as he landed. At the back