Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [74]
The orog wasn't used to being thwarted in battle. He kept the soldier at bay, but he needed to even the odds. Graal glanced over the White Shield's shoulder, seeking followers of his own that he could afford to draw away from the battle.
What he saw shocked him.
His army was in ruins. A few of his best warriors held their ground, but the fodder had turned and fled, the dragon worshipers butchering them from behind like the miserable curs they were. Sheer numbers still favored his army, but their morale had broken, the tide of battle had turned.
It took only a moment for Graal to understand. He saw Azlar, the cult wizard, in the middle of the clearing surrounded by three of his guards. The wizard's fist was thrust straight up into the air.
Then Graal saw the package. Or rather, the back of her. Azlar had unleashed the medusa on Graal's troops, they scattered before her like dust. In her wake he saw only statues and corpses bloated by the poison of her venomous tresses.
Oblivious to the White Shield and the female, Graal cast his eyes to the earth and sprinted into the cover of the trees.
The forest was alive with the sounds of Xiliath's escaping forces. They fled without thought or reason, heading in any direction that led away from the clearing. The sounds of the cult soldiers hunting them down could also be heard.
A goblin stumbled past the orog, completely unaware of the looming presence of his general. Graal silenced the goblin's terror filled shrieks with a single swipe of his paw, clawing out its throat.
A second later a pursuing cult soldier appeared from among the trees. Graal brought his sword to bear on his opponent, chopping down on his shoulder. The blade sliced through armor, flesh, and bone, biting deep into the human's torso. The cultist keeled over in a shower of spurting blood.
Graal was no blood-crazed fool, he was not above fleeing when a battle was lost. But even the prospect of facing the medusa was preferable to having to report his failure to Xiliath. "Do not come back without the package," Xiliath had warned him. "The package, and the ring that controls it." Graal had little doubt that the ring was on Azlar's finger.
Moving with surprising stealth for a creature his size,
Graal worked his way along the edge of the clearing, staying just far enough in the trees to remain out of sight. He kept his eyes on the ground, and away from the battlefield. If he could make his way to the trees behind Azlar, in the direction opposite the fighting, he should be safe from the medusa's gaze. The wizard would hesitate to turn the creature's gaze back toward himself. The ring would protect Azlar, but Graal was counting on the mage wishing to preserve the two soldiers guarding him from the horrible fate of becoming a living statue.
Graal paused, and sneaked a quick peek out into the clearing. He had judged correctly, he was behind Azlar and his two bodyguards. The orog hesitated a second, aware of the consequences if he misjudged the wizard's reluctance to turn the medusa in his own direction, but Graal was also aware of the consequences of failing Xiliath.
He burst from the trees with a roar, his blade already carving swaths through the air. The guards reacted quickly, stepping between Azlar and the charging enemy.
Two long strides brought Graal into range, his blade tore through the pitiful shield of the first guard, tore through his arm, tore halfway through his chest.
The second guard got in a hurried shot, but the blow was rushed and off balance. It deflected off the heavy black chain of Graal's armor without even drawing blood. The orog wrenched his blade free from the first soldier, leaving a gaping, gruesome wound in the corpse. He caught the second blow from the remaining guard with his sword, shattering his opponent's blade with a flash of dark magic.
The orog stabbed forward, running the sword through the soldier's stomach until it protruded from the other side. The mage, confident in the abilities of his bodyguards to dispatch a single foe, wasn't even looking in
Graal's direction. He gazed