A small, horrific shape moved to the edge of the shadows. Though it was still half-veiled in darkness, Teldin, peering through the slats of the lobster pots, Instantly recognized the creature. He had seen it before, though only vaguely then. It was a neogi, like the ones he had glimpsed that dreadful night on his farm.
In the shadows, the creature seemed no larger than a child and there was no sign of the hulking brutes Teldin had seen in his last encounter with these hateful beings. The monster took a few clicking steps forward, its spider- like legs moving it in strange rhythms, ever more into the light. The furry, boulder-shaped body was cloaked in a silken wrap. The gloom was too heavy for Teldin to tell what color the creature might be. Its head, supported by a long, snaking neck, weaved in and out of the light. The little face was a cross between an evil serpent’s and a raving dog’s, with a rigorous smile, all fangs and thin lips.
“Ssancrisst iss where, sservant-sslave?” demanded the neogi. Its eight legs clicked with impatience on the cobblestone pavement
"Information costs money, creature-sir," Vandoorm shot back. His men, quickly recovering from their shock, warily formed into a line behind their captain. With small gestures, Brun marshalled them into position, past differences already forgotten. From his hiding place Teldin found it harder to see what was going on. Vandoorm and the neogi-the alliance filled Teldin with even greater contempt for his ex-friend and mentor.
"Sservant-sslavess do not Nyeasta defy!” threatened the neogi. “Your ansswer worth more than money iss.” The neogi whipped its head about and barked a quick command. By their faces Teldin could tell the tongue was foreign to Vandoorm and his men. Teldin, probably through some power of the cloak, vaguely understood it, though parts did not translate perfectly. “Quasroth, kinsmen-slaves-your lordservants bring. Nyeasta, your captain-owner, demands it.”
The response was an immediate movement from the shadows on three sides of Vandoorm’s men. With a loud clattering, giant creatures closed on the mercenaries. “These my umber hulks are. As I bid, they do,” Nyeasta intoned.
As with the neogi, Teldin had seen these larger creatures before. The plated bodies rose out of the shadows, glistening like June beetles’ backs. Their giant mandibles clacked and grated as the beasts lumbered forward, claws almost dragging on the ground. Teldin took care not to look at the creatures’ outermost eyes, remembering the violently disorienting effect their gaze had had on him before.
At that point, one-eyed Brun, overstrung with bravado, rushed forward with his sword raised and charged the nearest creature. “Restrain!” Nyeasta barked. The umber hulk closest to the lunging mercenary swept an arm out and effortlessly seized the lieutenant in its great claws. Even so, Brun tried to complete his slash, but the warrior’s sword skittered off the bony plates that covered the beast’s body and barely left a mark. With a violent twist, the umber hulk pinned its quarry to the ground. There was a soft pop and grunt of agony from Brun. The lieutenant’s sword arm flopped loosely at his side, the shoulder wrenched free from its socket. His teeth clenched to grind hack the pain, Brun squirmed helplessly under the brute’s unyielding grip.
Nyeasta returned its attention to Vandoorm. “Ssancrissst iss where?” the neogi demanded once more.
“Release Brun or I say nothing!” Vandoorm countered, defying the neogi. The little creature turned to its monstrous servant and Vandoorm took a deep breath of relief, confident that the neogi had relented.
Smiling a gruesome smile, the neogi calmly told the lordservant, “Meat kill.” Vandoorm’s triumphant look turned to horror when the umber hulk slashed downward with its arm at the wriggling Brun. The outthrust talons struck in concert with a single wild shriek from the doomed man’s mouth. Before the cry had begun to echo, there was the hard grinding of rock as the beasts’s claws speared Brun’s body and drove into the flagstones of the quay, gouging a huge fistful of bloody rock. Its talons dripping, the umber hulk threw the one-eyed lieutenant's torso into the center of Vandoorm’s company. Blood spattered the legs of the stunned men.
“Now, servant-slave, Ssancrissst Isle iss where? Answer and you and your slaves spared will be.” Here Nyeasta motioned with a tiny claw to Vandoorm’s mercenaries.
Teldin, horrified but locked in place by grotesque fascination, struggled to see clearly without revealing himself. Small tremors palsied the leg and arms of the wrought-up mercenaries, their swords clenched rigid, the tips vibrating with tension. Teldin was hardly surprised to see that even the cool Vandoorm shook, spasms rippling across his back. The captain’s gaze turned from Nyeasta to Brun’s bloody remains and back again. The umber hulks, of which Teldin had counted five, took a step closer to the mass of men.
“West!” blurted Vandoorm, desperate to forestall an unprofitable fight. “West, beyond the isles of Ergoth, at the mouth of the strait that divides north and south.” It all tumbled out at once. “I trained an army of Whitestone there in the war. Nevermind is a peak somewhere in the mountains. Only gnomes live in that part of Sancrist.” The bearded warrior shook, as if speaking had released the tension coiled within him.
“Gnomesss?” hissed Nyeasta. “Gnomess shipss build- there, of course, the cloakmaster will go. Him the spheres call.” The neogi stared toward the sky, rapt in its thoughts.
“Then my information is good, is worth something, creature-sir?” Vandoorm probed, his nerve and his mercenary instincts returning. “We’ll take our pay and go.”
“No promisesss to ssslaves there are,” Nyeasta said in cool, slippery tones. “Kill them,” the neogi ordered in the harsh tongue of its hulking servants.
“To swords and break out right!” Vandoorm shouted as the umber hulks lumbered forward. The order was hardly necessary, for the mercenaries had already sprung futilely into action, but the umber hulks’ strange, multifaceted eyes swirled in hypnotic colors and the seasoned warriors staggered back, dazed and confused. Some struck out blindly while others, hopelessly outmatched for the first time in their careers, cried for mercy, but there was no mercy coming. The broad-bodied, gigantic umber hulks waded among the random, raging mass of mercenaries, tearing the warriors apart with impunity. Only a few, Vandoorm among them, seemed to retain their sanity.
Teldin suddenly realized that he was too close to the massacre when a hapless mercenary crashed through the lobster pots just to the right. The body landed by Teldin’s feet, its head dangling toward the harbor below. Half the man’s shoulder had been torn away and the blood flowed quickly into the greasy water. The man’s legs kicked feebly in dying throes at the splintered wood of the traps. Another shriek, along with a splash of blood and gore across his cheek, tore Teldin’s attention away.
Beyond the shelter of the pots, the umber hulks gruesomely thinned the ranks of Vandoorm’s few remaining men. The short, bearded captain hewed at the beasts with his broad sword, his most furious blows hacking gashes through the horrors’ bony armor. Blood and flesh soaked the pavement under Vandoorm’s feet. Reeling back for a swing, the captain’s foot suddenly slipped beneath him. He dropped to one knee and weakly tried to beat the monsters off, then suddenly the mercenary was swarmed by the creatures. Vandoorm’s screams were drowned by the umber hulks’ rending claws, their blood-stained talons flailing down upon the prostrate captain.
Teldin fled, blindly scrambling along the quay. Fear forced him into a hunched run; instinct somehow kept him behind the shelter of the fishermen’s nets and traps. Screams ended abruptly. Clacking mandibles and soft, fleshy rips faded and welcome darkness cloaked the terrified farmer. Teldin ran on, turning and twisting blindly. He gasped for breath, his throat raw and thick. Pain seared his heaving chest. He sprinted until, exhausted, he could run no more. Still he lurched on.