Frosthammer_Dwarves of Nagdor by Leonard D. Hilley II

Author:Leonard D. Hilley II [Hilley, Leonard D. II]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DeimosWeb Publishing
Published: 2019-04-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Boldair shook his head. “Rhuse, we freely offer our aid to help you find a cure, but not like this.”

Rhuse studied Boldair’s eyes and offered a gracious nod. He rolled up his sleeve. “While I believe your words ring truth, time isn’t something we have. You see the pustules on my face and arms. I feel the taintedness of the plague crippling my insides. We have no other hope.”

Syvil stepped toward Viorka and slipped a dagger from the inside of her robe. Blood trickled from Syvil’s nose and down the sides of her mouth. She coughed, paused in step, and reached a hand for the stone slap to steady herself. Her head wobbled. She peered at Boldair, disoriented.

Boldair could only guess that the undead plague was in its latter stage with her. She was more undead than alive.

“Syvil?” Myriel said, placing a hand on Syvil’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Syvil staggered, gasped, and fell into Myriel’s arms. Myriel hugged her, holding her limp body. A black arrow shaft protruded from Syvil’s back.

“Perhaps, Rhuse,” Yotram said, “you’ll fear arrows?”

Rhuse scanned the balcony, confused.

Boldair did also. He’d never known a Dwarf to use a bow. Dwarves took pride in close combat because they could watch the fleeting life escape an enemy’s eyes.

Myriel eased Syvil onto the floor. Tears of blood leaked from Myriel’s eyes.

“I warned you!” Rhuse said, drawing bluish flames from the staff.

Boldair leapt on the stone slab and dove at Rhuse.

“Boldair!” Wynneffin said.

Boldair struck Rhuse with the side of his ax. The blow interrupted Rhuse’s spell and his concentration. The staff fell and spun across the rock floor.

Drucis and Dwiskter rushed them.

Boldair reared back his fist.

“No!” Myriel said. “Don’t strike him. Syvil’s still alive.”

Rhuse looked at Boldair’s steel-gloved fist and his eyes widened. He must have read the rage in Boldair’s eyes and realized the strike would’ve been a deathblow. Rhuse relaxed and allowed his arms to fall at his sides.

“Myriel,” Wynneffin said in horror. “Syvil’s not alive. Get away from her. She’s undead.”

Myriel scooted across the floor, trying to put distance between her and what had once been her friend. Syvil awkwardly forced herself to rise to her feet. Her mouth released strange gurgling sounds, and her attention fastened on Myriel.

Three arrows pierced Syvil’s back, jolting her, but ineffectively stopped her advance.

“Myriel,” Rhuse said, “move away! Hurry!”

Myriel rolled to her side and tried to stand. Before she could, Syvil clasped a tight hand around Myriel’s ankle. Myriel shrieked.

“Do something,” Rhuse said, trying to get out from under Boldair. “Please.”

Several more arrows struck Syvil. One went through the center of her head, but still Syvil ignored the injury and held tightly.

“I told you,” Boldair said, “only fire destroys the undead.”

“Then allow me my staff,” Rhuse said with tears in his eyes. “Please.”

“I don’t know dat I can trust you.”

“Please,” Rhuse pleaded. “It’s the only way I can save Myriel and myself.”

“Very well,” Boldair said, pushing himself to his feet. He extended his hand to aid Rhuse to stand. “But know, if you do anything other than burn Syvil, I’m close enough to remove your head.

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