The Paladins - James M. Ward [14]
*****
"Undead everywhere! By Tyr, how can this be?"
Able shivered and pressed himself against a tavern wall on the streets of Skullport. Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped into his bulging eyes, burning them at the corners. His breath caught in short heaves and gasps. He gaped fearfully from side to side.
Shame welled in his heart, for facing undead was the last thing he wanted. The last time he had attempted to put the fear of his god into the walking dead, they had nearly killed him, ignoring his holy symbol in favor of his throat. Now, as he stood in the shadows and trembled, it wasn't the fear of death that terrified him, it was the fear that he no longer even possessed the power to repel evil.
"Am I lost to Tyr, or is He lost to me?" he wondered.
Zombies and skeletons wobbled by in droves. Overhead, several levels of catwalks rattled with the stilted footfall of dozens more. Across the way, a vampire hissed and berated a skeletal warrior for its insolence.
"All-powerful Tyr, how could you even allow a place like this to exist?" lamented the cleric.
The vampire noticed Able and peered suspiciously at him. The cleric immediately stood erect, positioning himself for a confrontation without yet drawing weapon or holy symbol. He stared back at the creature defiantly, but a hot prickle of fear crawled up his back. The vampire bared its fangs, eyes burning. Then it uttered something under its breath to the skeletal warrior, and both undead turned and walked around a corner. Able inhaled deeply and let it go, closing his eyes in relief. He stood there for a few moments, quelling his stomach.
A slight scrape on the ground to his right jolted Able to life. With a start, he leaped away from the sound and raised his hammer and shield.
A zombie watched him apathetically. He had wandered into its path. As Able looked upon the decaying thing, it occurred to him that the creature had once been a boy about Noph's age. Whatever life that had once surged through the body had been forever ripped away, leaving only a husk to stagger on until it finally crumbled to dust. It wasn't fair, wasn't just.
"Filthy monsters!" he growled. He lifted his war-hammer and brandished the holy symbol emblazoned on it, crying, "Behold the light of Tyr and rest!"
The zombie continue to stare, disinterested.
Able bowed his head. A tear found its way down his bristling cheek. "Forgive me my weakness," he begged and shifted his grip on the hammer to destroy the zombie with two powerful blows. If he couldn't put it to rest with the power of his faith, at least he could do it with the power of his good right arm. He tossed the body into the river and snuck back to the ship.
*****
Laskar Nesher, Noph's father, had warned his son about Skullport, mostly to scare him into minding when he was a child, but Noph had never believed the stories-until now. "It stands to reason," he thought bitterly, "that my father would know about a place like this." As he and Harloon made their way along the docks, they passed a long bank of caged monsters. Many thrust their talons toward the humans, yet their screams were inaudible, blocked by some evil wizard's spell to silence their pain and fury. Most of them possessed the bulbous eyes or pale coloring of Underdark dwellers.
These are probably on their way to the surface, to be harvested for spell components," said Harloon with distaste. "We should destroy them all right here, so nobody suffers!"
"That won't help a zombie, Harl," said Noph. "The skull in the water said to help a zombie, and Aleena told us to keep out of trouble!"
"All right, all right! Let's check out that tavern over there."
The two young men crossed the boardwalk to a sagging, flat-topped building lit by a magical