Red Magic - Jean Rabe [51]
Elwin wasn't faring as well as the others. The self-made slaver was frightened so badly that the jabs he was making with his daggers were shaky and clumsy. Eventually, after repeated attempts, one of his twin daggers sunk into the chest of one of the cadavers, but the blade did little harm. He pulled it free and leapt to the side to choose another target.
Elwin crouched again, bringing one dagger upward and forward into the abdomen of a large ghoul that was missing its right arm from the elbow down. One-more thrust and it would fall, he thought, holding his breath to cut the stench.
A second ghoul moved in silently from the slaver's side, catching Elwin's head in both hands. The ghoul raked its nails across Elwin's scalp, ripping a piece of skin loose from the man's bald skull. The slaver screamed and dropped his daggers as he tried to push his new attacker away, but the ghoul only ambled closer. Pressing up against Elwin and lifting him by his head, the undead creature snapped his thick neck. The ghoul took a bite out of Elwin's cheek, cast him to the ground, then fell upon his body, tearing off chunks of flesh with its filthy nails. Anchoring its feet against Elwin's chest and grasping the slaver's right leg, it pulled until the leg came free. Another ghoul stopped to feast on Elwin, but the two behind it continued to move forward, bent on the living targets.
Wynter had lost count of the number of ghouls he had killed by the time he was able to pull back and help Galvin and Brenna. The druid appeared to be faced with the most desperate struggle. He was standing on one ghoul, which appeared to be finally dead, while holding off another three with his scimitar. The two that had passed by Elwin were eyeing Brenna but keeping their distance, obviously concerned about her magic. Wynter started toward the druid.
Galvin kicked at a ghoul in the middle, sending it sprawling, then swung his scimitar in a vicious downward stroke at the one to his right. The weapon cut through the corpse's shoulder blades and lodged halfway down in its chest. The ghoul seemed to grin as it reached forward and clawed the druid's exposed arm. Galvin immediately felt sluggish, his arms and legs heavy. He felt the talons of his other attacker rake his left arm as he became rooted to the spot.
"No!" the centaur screamed, bringing his staff down on the ghoul that had Galvin's scimitar in its chest. Wynter smashed its head like an overripe watermelon, ending its unlife. Continuing his assault, the centaur trampled the remaining ghoul into oblivion, then swung to see Brenna wrestling a tall corpse.
The sorceress obviously had taken out one of the pair. As the centaur dashed forward, he saw a decaying body lying at an odd angle across her bags. Part of its chest was missing.
"Back up, Brenna!" he called, rearing on his hind legs.
Brenna fell back on the ground, unmoving, her clawed cheek exposed. The ghoul turned to meet Wynter's front hooves, which fell on it hard. In a berserk rage, the centaur pounded the undead into the soft ground, continuing to rear and stomp on it well after it had ceased to move.
The centaur's chest heaved from fear and exertion. He was the only one standing in the clearing. It was too dark to make out all the details, but he could see Galvin's frozen outline and Brenna lying on the ground, motionless. Elwin's corpse lay in pieces, but the ghouls who had dined on him were nowhere to be seen. Although