The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [116]
Men screamed or grunted, and threw up gauntleted hands or stiffened, as Cardassan lances and spears and glaives struck home, spitting them like boars felled in the forest. So passed three knights of the conspiracy, sword-swingers deemed expendable by their masters.
The two wizards and the two barons glared into the vault. In the heart of that maelstrom of metal their lone foe still stood, staggering and groaning, pierced a dozen times and more. Yet the Lord of Cardassa managed to keep his feet and to hiss words that made certain blades draw back from him, or even whirl to dart through the portcullises. Some became entangled there, and a few even lanced right through, forcing hasty spell-casting to bring them to quivering halts or rend them into bright shards and dust.
A hidden door split a wall among the weapon-racks, and men in the armor of Cardassa rushed forth, doorguards summoned by the gong-men swiftly transfixed and struck down by a hail of flying, darting weapons, as the two mages laughed maniacally.
Baron Cardassa spat out a word and some blood together as the last of his men fell-impaled on spears that raced their arched and convulsing bodies to the walls, and struck deep there, pinning grisly trophies to the sides of the vault. In response to his command, the doors of the vault grew blades of their own, thrusting forth so abruptly as to cause Adeln to curse and clutch at a sliced elbow, and Ornentar to scream as a blade thrust deep into his side.
The wizards stepped swiftly back from between the cursing barons, darting wary glances to rear and to either side to ensure they yet stood in safety. Finding it so, they bent their glares upon the Baron of Cardassa, and raised their hands in cruel unison.
"Die, faithless worm," the tersept said softly, as if, rather than repudiating the conspirators, Ithclammert Cardassa had promised aid and loyalty and then gone back on his word. The Great Lord of Cardassa floated helplessly up into the air, thrashing and fighting with his gauntlets against the grip of a greater magic, and floated there as swords and spears and long horse-lances darted in at him from all sides… and slid wetly home.
Then Darlassitur of Sirlptar almost mockingly cast a spell of healing, and let its blue-white beam reach the twisted face of the Baron Cardassa, holding him alive in his dying agony.
"Speak, Old Crow," he purred, as he and the tersept moved their hands in a deft dance that made weapons glistening with blood withdraw a little and twist, torturing their trapped and gasping foe into fresh sobs of pain. "Tell us what else you have hidden here, and how we may use it on a king."
"N-Never," Ithclammert Cardassa snarled, and then wept and thrashed as barbed spears were dragged through him in two directions at once, and great gouts of blood and innards poured forth from his rent body.
"Tell us, and know peace," Ilisker Baerund snapped, "or defy us, and live what will seem a very long time to you, in the agony we shall visit upon you."
He gestured viciously with one hand, and the floating baron screamed.
"What else of magic have you hidden," the tersept demanded, "and where?"
"Aye," the Baron of Adeln snarled, clutching an elbow from which blood dripped, despite a binding cut from a very expensive hanging. "What else have you, Cardassa?"
The baron's reply was a thick, wet gurgling. Blood spewed forth from his mouth to spatter on the floor, and he rolled desperate, helpless eyes at them as the red torrent went on. Almost disgustedly the wizard Darlassitur spent another healing magic, and the red rain ended, leaving their floating foe coughing weakly.
"Yes, tell us, Cardassa," the Baron Ornentar growled, from where he sat hunched over, fingers pressed to his own leaking side. "Tell us all!"
"I-much magic," Cardassa gasped, blood weeping from his eyes. "Where you'll never find it… unworthy, disloyal dogs… traitors to the rrrurrrkhh!"
The wizards pulled on unseen