Can’t parry an axe with a sword. But an axeman can’t be as quick as a swordsman; once he’s swung, it has to take him a moment to recover, and—Now!
As the axe came whistling down, Kevin threw himself to one side, slashing out sideways with his sword. He missed the knee joint, the blade clanging harmlessly off bone. But at least the impact staggered the skeleton slightly; it might be an undead thing, but it was still subject to the force of gravity! Kevin swung again, hoping to knock it over completely, but to his horror, a skeletal hand shot out and closed on the blade.
Of course, of course, he—it—doesn’t have any fingers to get cut!
The thing was far, far stronger than anything mortal. Kevin struggled helplessly with it, clutching the sword hilt with both hands—only to have the skeleton, still grinning its inane grin, begin reeling him in, bony hand over hand up the blade. If he kept holding onto the hilt, Kevin realized, he was going to be dragged into the skeleton’s reach.
So he suddenly let go. To his relief, the skeleton, which had been braced against his weight, went right over backwards. Kevin kicked it as hard as he could, and heard ribs crack, but the thing was already climbing back to its feet, apparently unhurt.
And it’s still got my sword and its axe!
Now, what?
The bardling backed away, looking about for a branch, a rock, anything he could use as a weapon. He found a rock, all right: he stepped on it, and the treacherous thing turned under his foot, sending him sprawling.
As the skeleton lunged down at him, Kevin did the only thing he could think of: he caught the bony arms, and kicked his legs up with all his force, just as he had with the swordsman back in Westerin. To his amazed wonder, he sent the skeleton sailing neatly over his head, to land with a satisfying crash. It lost his sword in the fall, and the bardling snatched up the weapon, hacking and hacking at the undead thing before it could rise till he’d cut right through its skeletal neck. The skeleton collapsed in a bony heap.
I —laid it! I won!
Fierce with triumph, the bardling looked about to see how everyone else was faring. Lydia and Eliathanis were surrounded, fighting back to back, skeletal hands snatching at them from all sides, while Tich’ki, swearing savagely, tried in vain to ward off the undead with her spear.
I’ve got to help them before—
A bony hand closed with painful force about his ankle. Headless or not, the skeleton was still very much animated.
“No! Curse you, no’ No!” Nearly sobbing with panicky strain, Kevin hacked and hacked and hacked at the hand till it shattered, releasing him. But the headless horror was getting to its feet once more.
This is impossible! The thing is never going to give up!
No, it wouldn’t, the bardling realized. None of the undead would. Not while the human necromancer’s spell bound them.
Panting, Kevin glanced to where the Dark Elf stood. Naitachal was still battling his foe as fiercely as ever, eyes blazing with will. But to the bardling’s alarm, signs of strain showed all too clearly on the elegant face. Of course! Determined though he was, strong magician though he was, the Dark Elf had no sorcerous staff to feed him extra Power, nothing but the strength within his own slim body.
He c-can’t hold out much longer, Kevin realized, not without help! But I don’t know any spell-songs to help him!
Wait a minute ... Maybe he didn’t know any useful Bardic Magic—but maybe he wouldn’t need it! Didn’t all the old ballads claim when magic failed, plain common sense would save the day? There was one very practical thing he could do.
Before the headless monstrosity could grab him again, Kevin snatched up the rock that had tripped him, hefting its weight experimentally in his hand as he ran, racing past the battle of undead against undead till nothing stood between him and the enemy sorcerer.
If he sees me now, I’m dead.
But the necromancer, absorbed in his magical trance, showed not the slightest sign he knew the bardling was there.
Please, oh please, let this work ....
Kevin threw the rock with all his strength—Ha, yes! It hit the necromancer smartly on the side of the head! The man staggered helplessly back, trance shattered, and from the other side of the field, Naitachal gave a hoarse
