Master of Chains - Jess Lebow [16]
There were only a handful of undead between him and the doorway. Taking in a deep breath, the half-silver dragon shook his head back and forth, blowing out all of the air in his lungs. A gust of super cold spread out, catching a half-dozen vampire spawn in a maelstrom of freezing breath. The bile and mellifluent fluids that held them together turned to ice. Their slumping skin turned hard and fell from their bones. Collectively the quickly freezing beasts let out a wail, then they went silent, either stopping in their tracks or falling frozen to the ground.
Without hesitation, Tammsel dived into the new gap, moving within just a few steps of the way out. He reached for the next in his way, but something caught him from behind and spun him around. Looking back at the dais, the baron could see the circle of undead closing in. The vampires he had knocked down were already back on their feet.
They seized him, clasping his arms, legs, shoulders, and head. Though he struggled, the undead piled on. Their hands scratched at his skin. Their fangs clanked against his armor. Slowly the tomb disappeared from his view, replaced with dead gray flesh and shadow.
The onslaught was more than the baron could take, and he sank to his knees. Twisting under the pile, he gritted his teeth and growled, struggling for one more look at the door. He reached, his claws grasping around in the stale crypt air. His fist shook as his body was pummeled, over and over again, until he finally stopped moving. His hand fell limp to the floor.
The pile of spawn climbed off his corpse, leaving the older, more deserving vampires to lap up the fresh blood.
Montauk looked down on the former Baron of Impresk, a smile on his face. "Goodbye, Tammsel."
The woman standing next to him placed her hand on his shoulder. "I trust his replacement has been put into place."
Montauk turned toward the woman, bowing. "Yes, Mistress Shyressa. Our man has assumed his identity and taken control of Impresk. He's been ruling the barony for more than a tenday now, and everything goes according to plan."
Shyressa nodded her approval. "Well done." She lifted a sack of gold from inside one of her sleeves and handed it to the ponytailed man. "For your good work."
Montauk took the sack and bowed once again. "Thank you, my lady."
The vampires on the floor were tearing large chunks of the dead baron's flesh from his bones and throwing them to their spawn. The half-elf, half-dragon's blood covered the flagstones and the faces of the undead surrounding his corpse.
Shyressa smiled as she looked upon the carnage. "How many of the other barons of Erlkazar do we need to replace before we have them all?"
At this, Montauk balked. Casting his eyes to the ground, he cleared his throat. "There is only one, my lady."
Shyressa's smile faded. "And who would that be?"
Montauk steeled himself to deliver the news. "The baron Lord Purdun, my lady."
Shyressa touched her shoulder, remembering the wound she had suffered when last she had encountered Baron Purdun of Ahlarkham. "And?"
"And everything is on schedule."
The vampire mistress glared at the human standing beside her coffin. "That is what your predecessor said five years ago."
"Yes, my lady," replied Montauk.
"Perhaps it is time I took a personal interest in finalizing our plans."
"Mistress, please," begged Montauk, "allow me the time to complete the plan I have already set in motion."
"Where are you now, Montauk? How close are you?"
It was Montauk's turn to smile. "It won't be long," he said. "Already I have arranged to personally take control of the Crimson Awl. A well-timed tip to the elite guard has effectively beheaded the organization, leaving the climate right for me to move in and take power." Montauk rubbed his hands together. "If we cannot replace Baron Purdun with one of our own agents, we will discredit