The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [81]
Perhaps the guards didn’t understand the Goblin language; perhaps they’d heard the threat before. Either way, they ignored the beast completely and remained focused on their work.
“Devouring spirit!” it roared. “Vengeful daughters! Punish the one who spills my blood!”
“I thought you said you cut out his tongue,” the Deneith captain said, a mixture of boredom and annoyance in his voice. He took a practice swing with the great axe.
“Yesterday,” the halfling said. “You know how they are.”
“That I do,” the axeman said. His soldiers had finished binding the troll’s arm to the stretcher, and they drew it back, pulling it taut. The captain raised the axe, and the runes carved into the blade glowed as the power within it grew. He took two steps forward then brought the cruel weapon down with all his strength, magic and muscle combining in a deadly arc of steel. The blade cleaved straight through flesh and bone, and the troll howled in pain as his arm was severed from his shoulder.
The troll moaned and muttered foul curses as the captain cleaned thick, green blood off the blade of his axe. The severed arm twitched and struggled in its bonds, but the soldiers had bound it well. The Vadalis woman studied the wound with a critical eye.
“Clean cut,” she acknowledged. “The wound is already healing. Keston, I hope you’re tracking progress.”
“This is hardly my first time, Lalanan,” the old halfling snapped. “Now take your arm and leave us to our work.”
The captain grinned as his men began wheeling the severed limb away. “Where’s your vengeance now?” he said. He chuckled. Then a great, green hand wrapped around his head. For a moment, his laughter turned into a scream; then the crushing fingers ended that along with his life. By that time, there were many other screams filling the air.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Pit
Barrakas 25, 999 YK
Thorn hadn’t stood idly by while the Deneith captain and his crew prepared the amputation. She knew an opportunity when she saw one, and with her invisibility about to expire, she had to act quickly. She traced a circle on Steel’s hilt.
You are not being observed by magical means, Steel told her. Although I fail to see what difference that makes at the moment.
All the difference in the world, she thought. Returning Steel to his sheath, Thorn quickly wove a second spell, one that fortunately required no words of power to invoke. She could feel the tingle across her skin as the mystical disguise took hold. She couldn’t see the results while she was still invisible, but there was nothing for it but to trust to the Sovereigns. As the troll bellowed its rage, she made her way next to one of the other imprisoned brutes.
“Say nothing,” Thorn whispered, trusting the Pyrial amulet to work its magic and translate her words. As she spoke, she worked on its bindings, using her tools to weaken both physical and magical restraints. “The Daughters of Sora Kell have sent me to end your suffering and grant you your revenge. On my command, you may deal with those here. Free your companions. Then we shall speak further.”
She was finishing her work on the last bond as the captain’s axe fell. The troll’s cry of pain echoed across the room. As the Vadalis savant studied the wound, Thorn felt the familiar tingle of magic fading away—her cloak of invisibility finally running its course. She’d done her best to position herself so the others wouldn’t see her, but there were too many people in the room, and they were moving around; she saw a halfling nurse’s eyes widen as he caught sight of her. There was no more time.
“Now!” she whispered into the troll’s ear.
The troll burst from its bonds before the halfling had a chance to cry out. It moved with astonishing speed for a creature that seemed so large and ungainly, and its hand was wrapped around the captain’s head in the blink of an eye. A moment later and it had torn the man’s head from his shoulders.
What are you—? was all Steel managed