Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [7]
Frightened shouts broke out, and she turned back in time to see the general sag to his knees, then crumple bonelessly to the floor. Black fluid now gushed from the stump—not blood, but instead something that stank most foully.
“Get back!” Vysal commanded. Throwing out his arm, he held Kostimon back. “Majesty, take care!”
“What in Gault’s name is it?” Kostimon asked.
Caelan approached the body, which now lay facedown on the ground. Crouching beside it, he started to dip his finger in the black liquid.
“Caelan, no!” Elandra shouted in horror.
At the last second, he withdrew his hand. His face wrinkled in disgust, and he jumped back with a quickness that alarmed all of them.
“Possessed,” Caelan said. “If General Paz was human once, he is no longer. Everyone, stay back.”
Ashen, the emperor looked around for Elandra and beckoned to her. She ran to him, and he gripped her hand hard in his.
“Stay close to me,” he said.
“What can it be?”
“I think I can guess,” he said grimly and shifted his gaze to Vysal. “Captain, we now have danger from within as well as without. In minutes, there will be creatures spawned in that blood. Creatures none of us wish to meet.”
Blinking, Vysal spun around. “Men!” he shouted. “Form ranks. Those who are mounted, go in front. Those on foot, assemble at the rear. Draw your weapons and say your prayers.”
The sergeant brought up both the emperor’s horse and his own for Elandra.
She stared at Kostimon in rising urgency, caught up in the general tension and fear. “But where are we going? We are trapped in this cavern, with no way out except the way w/e entered. And the Madruns are waiting.”
Kostimon touched her cheek briefly with his fingertips. “I am sorry for what was said a moment ago, my dear,” he said softly. “Too many masks—too many betrayals. How could I doubt your integrity for even a moment?”
This was the man she knew, alert and clear-eyed once again. Grateful for his apology, she caught his gnarled hand and held it pressed against her cheek for a moment. “Husband, I—”
“Later.” He pulled away. “You there, assist the empress.”
Baiter held the stirrup for her, then boosted her up as though she weighed nothing. Hastily she arranged her skirts across the saddle. She was not dressed for riding astride, but that hardly mattered now. Clutching the reins in her gloved fingers, she heard a feeble sound come from the direction of the general’s body.
Newly afraid, Elandra glanced at Paz. The corpse lay in a spreading pool of blackness. It should have stopped bleeding long since, but the loathsome fluid still poured from the wound. Ripples now spread across the surface of the pool, although it was too shallow to contain anything. With horrified fascination, Elandra saw movement as though something was taking shape there.
“He is not dead!” she cried.
“Hush. He is,” Caelan said. “Hurry.” He slapped the rump of her mount.
Only by reining back hard did she prevent the startled animal from bolting. All the horses were snorting now, stamping and backing away from the corpse. Fear spread quickly through the cavern.
It took both Vysal and Caelan to push the emperor onto his horse while Baiter struggled to hold the spirited animal still. Elandra had never seen Kostimon look so physically weak, or have so much difficulty mounting. When he was finally in the saddle, he leaned over, gasping for breath. She saw his hands shake on the reins, and she was afraid he would die then and there.
She reached out to him, wanting to help him, but his mount skittered to one side, snorting and tossing its head.
“Lord Sien,” Kostimon said, managing to straighten. “Where is Lord Sien? I need him.”
It was Caelan who looked up and answered: “The priest cannot come to you.”
“I need him!” Kostimon insisted. Glaring, he glanced around. “Sien! Come to me!”
“He will not come!” Caelan said more forcefully, gripping the