The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [103]
A wide belt was the scrag's only garment, and true to Marqillor's prediction, a silver-bladed, bone-handled knife was stuck through the waistband at the small of the creature's back. On the right side, looped through the belt, gleamed a keyring.
Tristan had no time to waste. The beast was certain to look around for the bucket and discover him, costing Tristan his only advantage.
At the same instant he came to the conclusion, Tristan acted. Holding the pail inverted in his hand, balancing it with the stump of his left wrist, Tristan sprinted from the niche, leaping toward the monster's shoulders. He brought the bucket down full over the monster's large, shaggy head. Bashing it with his wrist, ignoring the pain that shot like fire up his arm, he forced the metal container tightly onto the creature's great skull, where it stuck like a bizarre helm.
Immediately the scrag whirled, reaching for Tristan with two talon-studded hands, but the High King wrapped his arms around the beast's waist, following it through its spin and staying beyond the reach of those deadly claws. The scrag snarled as it turned, making a sound like water sucked down a drainhole.
Then the man grabbed the handle of the creature's knife and sprang away, bringing the wickedly curved weapon with him. The hilt felt rough to the touch, but the weight of a blade seemed natural in Tristan's hand. The monster, still snarling, reached for him with one talon-studded paw, and the human swung with all his strength. Keen steel sliced scale-covered flesh, a savage blow that lopped the limb off at the forearm. He heard Marqillor's shout of encouragement, but then his vision filled with the tooth-studded horror springing toward him, the creature's sharklike mouth gaping wide. Though the bucket still covered the monster's eyes, it did nothing to block the grotesque mouth.
As savagely as any berserk northman, the sea troll attacked the insolent human. If the creature felt any surprise at Tristan's presence, the fact didn't delay a furious reaction. The High King fell back, whipping the blade this way and that to block the monster's flailing attacks. Each time the sharp steel bit into the scrag's flesh, but the wounds did nothing to diminish the fury of the attack.
In fact, Tristan felt a shudder of piercing horror when he looked at the stump of the thing's wrist, where moments before the human had severed the hand. Tiny claws already sprouted there, growing longer as he watched. Soon they wiggled grotesquely as the bleeding wound gradually regenerated the hand.
For a moment, the monster paused, raising its hand to the bucket and tugging at the obstruction. Tristan took advantage of the moment to strike, driving the blade into the scrag's good arm, chopping deep into flesh and bone-though not with enough force this time to slice off the limb. With an angry howl, the beast kicked outward, and the man barely evaded the blow.
Both wounds were temporary, but for the moment, the creature's hands were useless. It could neither attack nor lift the bucket from its head. It paused, gasping for breath, its mouth gaping to reveal rows of triangular teeth, fangs gleaming faintly even in the pale emerald light. For a moment, the sea troll turned its face to the water, obviously considering the merits of a tactical withdrawal. The latter possibility meant disaster, Tristan realized, for if the creature escaped and returned with assistance, they were lost.
But in the monster's temporary halt, he saw his chance and dove forward, thrusting the stump of his arm through the large keyring. He used his momentum to carry him past the beast, spinning it in a circle as he charged.
The scrag dropped its blunt nose to bite this pesky attacker, but the monster's own steel dagger darted in to stab the creature's soft tongue. With a strangled gasp, the sea troll lurched backward, and the keys broke free from the belt as the wounded creature thudded heavily to the floor.
"Don't let if get to the water!" hissed Marqillor desperately, watching the monster wriggle toward