The Paladins - James M. Ward [29]
"Trandon's down!" shouted the warrior with a large blade, and the remaining three humans shifted smoothly to a triangle defense. Onward they pressed. The remaining manes burst into roiling puffs of toxic vapor, and their spirits fled back to the Abyss. The bar-lgura leapt in groups, hoping to overwhelm the paladins, only to be driven back on their heels until, one by one, they too fled for their native plane.
At last, bloody and weaving from their battles, the three warriors of Tyr reached the base of the pyramid and began to climb its steps. Side by side they ascended, grim-faced, readying their weapons for another bout. The two vrocks waited at the top.
"Paladins beware!" shouted Noph.
Shaakat wheeled and slapped the young man with the back of his emaciated hand. Noph cried out and lay still.
"Yes, beware paladins of Tyr," sneered Shaakat in their heads, returning his gaze to them. "We have your impudent whelp here. Surrender or we'll murder him right now!"
"Let them kill me!" mumbled Noph through bleeding, fattened lips.
"You shall be remembered with honor, Freeman Kastonoph!" cried the red-headed human.
The paladins continued their ascent without hesitation. Shaakat hissed and raised his arms as if to strike at them, but waited for them to reach the top.
As one, they stepped up to the top of the pyramid, sword and hammers raised high, but as their feet touched the warding line of blood, a bright flash erupted in front of each of them with a shrill crack, casting them back down the steps like rag dolls. They tumbled downward with a clatter of metal and groans of misery, coming to rest in a heap at the pyramid's base. Shaakat and Rejik roared with laughter.
"Kern!" cried one. "Kern, rise in the name of Tyr!" The paladin in golden scales shook his head and weakly rolled to his knees.
"Jacob?" called the elder warrior to the swordsman, who lay still and lifeless. "Jacob!" The human looked up at the vrocks with an expression of hatred to warm a tanar'ri's heart. "Damned fiends! Tyr, grant me the power to fight once more!"
The two paladins pulled themselves to their feet and began to climb once more. "This is it, Miltiades," said the one called Kern. "It's now or never!"
"That's it! Come a little closer," thought Rejik to them. He broke his concentration upon the ward and stepped closer to his partner, at the top of the steps, watching the humans stumble toward them. "Creatures of law," he sneered. "They never quit. It's their greatest weakness!"
The paladins fully regained their feet about halfway up the stairs and began to gain speed. Their hammers swooped down and around, then curved upward on their backswings, coming over the top with deadly force as the warriors gained the last few steps. They opened their mouths and bellowed with holy righteousness. The fiends spread their wings in response and spewed forth a swath of stringy, greenish fluid; then they blinked themselves to the side. The paladins' weapons caught only air, while they themselves were drenched in the tanar'ri's deadly, viscous juices.
The spores hatched with lightning speed, nourished by the wholesome flesh of the Tyr worshipers; vines wrapped them tightly, thrusting into their bodies.
The two men rolled down the steps and came to rest atop the third, who gave no protest as he received their full weight. The elder paladin twitched in his death throes for a few moments before the last glimmer of his life faded away.
Noph's stomach turned as he watched the vrocks caper in an obscene victory