advancing to attack.
There were two of them, misshapen nightmares of horns, jaws and great bone-hook talons, far more monsters than men. Roldo's sword broke in his first angry slash, and a talon tore open his tunic and sent him reeling. Both beasts reached for Starragar, and Taeros and Korvaun sprang hastily forward, swords flashing, only to fall in unison as a snakelike tail lashed across their ankles.
One beast sprang over them, pouncing on the lantern Naoni was trying to re-light, and as she screamed and talons lashed at her face, Lark Evenmoon leaped in to hack them aside.
The creature squalled in rage and pain, stabbing down with its great bone-hook at Lark's unprotected side.
A tall, dark-gowned figure flung herself out of the gloom to shield Lark, taking that fearsome thrust through her own flank with a groan.
Writhing in agony, Phandelopae Melshimber struck at her slayer with her dagger-wild slashes that sliced only air.
Two swords, thrust with all the snarling strength Korvaun and Taeros could put behind them, burst through the monster's shaggy breast and struck sparks when they clashed together. Lantern-oil that had spilled on Baraezym's body flared into dancing life and Roldo and Starragar could see to hack the other beast down.
Starragar let out a scream of his own as he saw the bloody bone-hook drawn out of Delopae and flung down his blade in wild and clawing haste to get to her. 'I-are-'
Phandelopae Melshimber struggled to speak, her eyes fierce, but all that came out of her lips was blood. She lifted a hand, trying to clasp Starragar as he cradled her and sobbed, 'I should never have asked you here this night! Delopae! I should never…'
Quite suddenly, the light in her eyes went out and her wavering hand fell back.
Starragar Jardeth burst into tears-and horrified glances were exchanged above him as their black-clad friend sobbed over a corpse-by the light of another one, now burning in earnest.
Beldar Roaringhorn was tired of hearing death-screams and heartily sick of fighting down the urge that raged in him, telling him to run, to save himself for greater things.
He strode through the gloom, heading back up to the winecellars. Bodies were everywhere, fallen torches flickering among sprawled, silent men.
He had to end this. He had to stop the insane Golskyn and his beastmen, yet he dared not use his beholder eye-its whispering hold over him was growing stronger. Eyepatch firmly in place, he stalked on, his sword sharp, ready, and in his hand.
The world seemed to shift, just a little, and the voice he'd been struggling to ignore rose in strength. This way. Just a few paces more. THIS way.
Overhead, with thunderous tread, the Walking Statues of Waterdeep took a few more steps, rearranging themselves just so, at the bidding of… of Golskyn, presumably, speaking through him!
'A man I really must find and slay,' Beldar Roaringhorn whispered grimly, as he came up through puddles of wine and shattered glass into ever-brighter light.
Someone had been at work conjuring light in the shattered Purple Silks and banishing the dust, revealing a great webwork of cracks running from the huge hole in the ceiling to great gaps in the walls. Most of the tapestries had fallen, and the leaded panes of the windows behind them, too. As Beldar trudged across rubble to join the silently staring people in the feasting hall, he could see what they were staring at through those gaps.
Gigantic stone legs, blocking every way out of the trembling, crumbling festhall. Legs attached to stone bodies that towered over the shattered roof, like disapproving Watchmen standing above a fallen citizen.
The Walking Statues of Waterdeep had surrounded the Purple Silks and made of it a prison-a prison that with a few blows or kicks they could collapse into a tomb for all still inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Beldar's jaw clenched in fury. So Golskyn could control the Statues through him, without his knowledge.
Well, he didn't want this power, but by all the gods, he'd not let the mad priest use it!
Beldar growled aside the burning pain in his eye and hurled his will into a silent command. Overhead, the Statues took a single step back.
Mrelder looked up, hearing and feeling the Walking Statues moving. That was it; this battle was lost. He put a firm hand on his father's shoulder and steered the old priest firmly toward a side tunnel and escape.
But Golskyn pulled away, giving his son a scornful glare. Once it would have wounded Mrelder deeply, but he no longer desired his father's approval or believed the insane plans of Lord Unity could be made real.
'We can leave-or we can die,' he said bluntly.
Golskyn raised hands that flickered with deadly magic, in clear warning. 'I go no farther without the successor! Use your spells to bring us Beldar Roaringhorn!'
Mrelder wasn't sure that was still possible, but he nodded curtly and began to weave the sorcery that would roar commands inside the nobleman's head.
Terrible pain lanced through Beldar's skull. He tore off his eyepatch and sank to his knees, trembling. The beastman he'd been about to slay stopped his lurching retreat and trotted forward, spiked mace rising for an easy kill.
Beldar's beholder eye responded, forcing up the head that held it, to let it glare.
The noble watched a sore erupt on the beastman's face, oozing and spreading with incredible speed. It was rather like watching a wax party decoration tossed across a flame-if that wax figure melted, screaming, into greenish ooze and exposed bone.
The pain in Beldar's head ebbed, and he stared in revulsion at his dying foe. No one and nothing should die like this! He swung his blade across the beastman's throat and turned away as the gurgling scream faded.
Something stirred in his throbbing head: the faint echo of someone else's surprise.
So his watcher hadn't expected that mercy-slaying. Good. Then he knew that Beldar Roaringhorn was not yet a helpless puppet. His choices were still his own.
And by the gods, he would choose well!
Taeros coughed smoke and staggered to his feet. The foulness was billowing from burning corpses. Nearby, Starragar clung to his dead love, still sobbing. Roldo's tunic hung in slashed rags, but he stood wincing as Faendra worked to staunch the blood running from the gashes across his chest. Naoni knelt over Korvaun, who lay sprawled on the floor. Lark stood guard between her mistresses, eyes alert and dagger ready. Her gaze touched his, and Taeros blinked at the realization that she stood ready to leap to his defense, too.
A soft murmur came from the floor, and Taeros looked again at Naoni and Korvaun.
A good pair of Helmfast breeches had been slit away, revealing a row of round, red welts on his thigh. Naoni was lying beside Korvaun now, her head on his chest and her face deathly pale. Korvaun held her with one arm, but his other twitched, often and sharply.
Fear swept through Taeros in an icy tide. 'Up, man,' he said gruffly. 'We're far from done yet.'
Korvaun's smile was faint. 'True enough… for you.'
Taeros glared at the welts. 'Venom,' he said grimly. 'That snake thing that took us down must have been-oh, blast it all, it matters not!'
He drew his dagger and dropped to his knees beside Korvaun. 'This'll hurt, but lacking magic or the right poison-quell… I'll have to cut open each of those and suck the venom out.'
'Too late,' Korvaun said. 'Look at my arm: 'Tis in my blood.' He smiled faintly. 'If you were a flock of stirges you might drain me dry, but that'd hardly be an improvement.'
