A flash of white appeared at the end of the new figure's limb. Not a claw or talon, as Kentril first believed, but rather a dagger—a dagger made of ivory.
Zayl had sacrificed himself to save the captain.
Never had Kentril seen such agility and speed in any man. Despite still wearing his voluminous cloak, the necromancer danced around the savage claws of the cat. The hellish creature snapped at Zayl, tasting only air. The pale spellcaster leapt atop his gargantuan foe and this time struck true with the ivory dagger.
A flash of emerald—green light flared where the peculiar blade bit in, and although Zayl clearly managed only a shallow wound, the cat howled as if pierced through the heart. It writhed wildly, finally sending the necromancer tumbling to the side.
Kentril dove in, determined that no man should die for his sorry sake. As he attacked, Oskal, Jodas, and two others joined in while another fighter dragged Zayl to momentary safety.
The cat swiped at the necromancer, howling when the claws missed. Kentril thrust, managing only to catch its unwanted attention again.
As one paw reached with lightning swiftness for their leader, Oskal and Jodas attacked from opposing sides. The beast's head turned toward the latter, who stumbled back as quickly as he could. On the other side, Oskal, still undetected, jabbed as hard as possible into the unprotected flank.
His sword went in a foot and more. The cat shrieked, turning upon the mercenary. Withdrawing his blade, Oskal fled from the reach of either the jaws or the curved claws.
The retreat proved a fatal mistake.
With the full force of a footman's mace, the barbed tail swung down hard on the unwary fighter.
The weaponlike appendage crushed the back of the mercenary's skull with an audible crack. Blood splattered the two men nearest Oskal. Eyes still wide, the already dead soldier fell forward, his sword clattering to the ground.
Enraged, Kentril charged again, thrusting with all his might at the cat's throat. The beast turned to meet him, but something distracted it again from the other side. Caught between two directions, the monstrous feline hesitated.
With as much force as he could muster, Captain Dumon drove the full length of his sword into the thick, muscular throat.
The hellish cat pulled back, taking Kentril's weapon with it. Hacking, its life clearly flowing from the great wound, the badly injured beast spat and swiped at everything in sight. Albord barely missed having his head taken from his body. The mercenaries retreated a step, hoping that death would come quick.
But even with such a wound, the cat did not forget Kentril. Still lithe, still quick, it focused on the cause of its agony, the unblinking eyes locked on Kentril's own. In those crimson orbs, the captain saw clearly his death coming.
Then Gorst acted, the barbarian giving a howl worthy of the cat and leaping atop from behind. The monstrous creature tried to twist backward to get the shirtless giant. However, Gorst wrapped his arms around the neck and used the hilt of Kentril's sword as a grip. Not only did he keep his foe from reaching him, but with his prodigious strength he worked the already deep blade around, further tearing at the cat's dripping wound.
At last, the murderous beast stumbled, then fell. It tried to rise but failed. Even then, Gorst held on tight. His muscles strained, seeming almost ready to tear apart, but still he held his position. The barbed tail flew at him once,twice, but, positioned where he was, Gorst remained beyond its limited reach.
"Let's finish it!" Kentril demanded.
Zayl alongside them, the rest of the mercenaries closed in, everyone still avoiding the tail. Seizing Oskal's sword, Kentril joined the others in stabbing the cat time after time. For what seemed an hour but in truth was only a minute, maybe two, they tried to put an end to the murderous creature.
Then, when Kentril had just begun to believe that nothing could completely slay the monster, the cat exhaled once… and fell motionless.
Still untrusting, the survivors watched with blades ready as Gorst dismounted. When the hellish beast made no move for Captain Dumon's second, they knew at last that they had slain it.
"Are you well?" asked a much—too—calm voice.
Kentril turned to see Zayl, the necromancer, looking untouched both physically and mentally by the disastrous event. At another time, that might have irritated the mercenary, but Zayl had saved his life, and Kentril would never forget that.
"Thank you, Master Zayl. I would've surely been dead if not for your quick reaction."
This brought a brief ghost of a smile. "I am simply Zayl. One born to the jungle finds it necessary to learn to react even quicker than the animals, captain—or one gets eaten at an early age."
Not certain whether the necromancer had just made a jest or not, Kentril nodded politely, then turned toward the only one in the party who had done nothing to avert the tragedy.
"Tsin! Damn you, Tsin! Where was all your vaunted power? I thought you Vizjerei had all sorts of magical spells! Three men are dead!"
Yet again, the diminutive sorcerer managed somehow to look down his nose at the much taller fighter. "And I stoodready in case there existed more than one of these beasts—or did you think your little troop capable of fending off a second at the same time?"
"Captain," Albord cut in. "Captain, let's leave this place. No gold's worth this."
"Leave?" snarled another fighter. "I ain't going back without something!"
"How about your head still on your shoulders, eh?"
Kentril whirled on his men. "Quiet, all of you!"
"Leaving would probably be a wise choice," suggested Zayl.
Tsin waved the wooden staff at the necromancer. "Nonsense! So much awaits us in this city! Likely the animal already lived here before the change, and we just never ran across it. And since no other came to its defense, I dare say it lived alone after all. There should be nothing else to fear here. Nothing!"
And at that moment, music began to play.
"Where's that from?" blurted Jodas.
"Sounds like it's comin' from everywhere!" replied one of his comrades.
Indeed, the music seemed to close in on the band from all sides. A simple yet haunting tune, not entirely unmerry, played on what sounded like a single flute. Kentril felt two urges at once, one to dance to the tune and the other to run away as fast as he could.
A man's light laughter briefly joined the music.
To Kentril's far right, a figure moved… a human figure.
Albord pointed down the street. "Captain, there's folk over by that old inn!"
"Horse and rider comin' this way!" shouted another mercenary.
"That old man! He wasn't there before!"
All around the party, figures that had not been visible moments before now walked, rode, or simply stood nearby. They wore free—flowing garments of all shades,and Kentril identified the old, young, strong, and infirm all in the space of one sweeping glance.
And through each one he could see the buildings beyond…
"Not all the riches in the world are enough for this, Tsin!" The captain summoned the men toward him. "We head to the front gate together! No one strays, no one tries to turn off to search for a few trinkets, understand?"
None of the fighters argued. To ransack an abandoned city was one thing, but to be trapped in a city of ghosts …
"No!" spat the Vizjerei. "We're so close!" Nevertheless, he did not wait behind when the mercenaries and Zayl started off.
Thinking of the necromancer, Kentril asked, "Zayl! You deal with the likes of these. Any suggestions?"
"Your command is the most prudent course, captain."
"Can you do anything about the ghosts?"
The pale figure's brow furrowed. "I can ward them off, I believe, but something about them leaves me uneasy. It would be best if we could escape Ureh without any confrontation."