Surging with adrenaline, Gale used his greater size and strength to roll atop the snarling beast and slam a knee into its abdomen. It squealed in pain and slashed at his chest and shoulders. Filthy claws tore gashes through his doublet and into his flesh. Warm blood ran down his arms. The ghoul sank its teeth into Gale's bicep and shook its head to rip his flesh open.
Through the pain, Gale felt his muscles begin to grow thick. The snarls of the ghoul became distant. His vision began to blur. Some kind of venom…
If his body did not resist it, he would be immobilized and the ghoul would eat him alive. He tried to punch at the squirming thing but with sluggish muscles he managed only a few feeble blows. Fight it, gods-dammit! Fight!
The ghoul took advantage of his weakness and squirmed loose. Once free, it tore into his flesh with a manic flurry of raking daws. Gale awkwardly rose to his feet, stumbled backward, and tried to fend off the blows with his limbs. The ghoul ripped into him without mercy. His blood dribbled from the ghoul's filthy fangs now. Snarling, slashing, and biting, Krendik tore into Gale's body. Stinking, brown saliva pelted Gale's face and drove him backward. He felt himself growing weaker. Stubbornly, he tried to fight back, but he knew his efforts to be futile. He was too weak. Soon he would not be able to move at all.
Distantly, he noticed that the chaotic noise from the feasthall had grown to a fever pitch. It sounded as though every dish in Stormweather was being shattered and an army was fighting on the dance floor. He had a sudden vision of the entire house guard slain and rampant ghouls feasting at leisure upon paralyzed victims. Thazienne! Thamalon! Shamur! In his mind's eye, he saw his family being devoured alive, like him,,
No! Anger heated his blood into a bonfire. A flood of rage washed away the ghoul's paralyzing poison like a cleansing rain.
"No!" he shouted into the ghoul's face, mere inches from its shark-toothed mouth. He caught it by the wrists and forced them out wide.
"No!" He pulled it toward him and at the same time kicked the ghoul square in the chest. Bone cracked and it squealed in agony. Its jaws snapped reflexively and brown spittle flew. Still holding it by the wrists, Gale threw it to the ground and landed on top of it, knees first. More cracking bones; more pain-filled squeals.
He released the ghoul's arms, endured repeated retaliatory claw rakes, and dosed both his hands around its throat. Blood flowed freely down Gale's sides but he did not feel it. He felt only hot rage.
"No!" he shouted again. Gagging, the ghoul left off tearing at his sides and aimed for his forearms. Cale endured the pain and only tightened his grip.
With a grunt, he jerked the ghoul's head forward and promptly slammed it back against the hardwood floor. Tkttd. Stunned, its eyes rolled backward for a moment. -
"No!"
Its tongue lolled from its mouth and lay between its fangs. Cale released its throat only long enough to slam his palm under its lower jaw. Impaled between rows of fangs, the tongue exploded hi a spray of stinking purple blood. The ghoul squealed in agony, squirmed desperately, but Cale held it pinned. Spit foamed between its teeth and blood continued to pour from its tongue. In desperation, it slashed into Gale's ribs, but he maintained his hold.
"No!" He slammed its head against the floor.
It shrieked and clawed like an angry cat, but Cale had long passed the point, where he felt pain.
"No!" Thud. Again and again, he slammed its head into the floor. "By…" Thud. Its squeals of pain gave way to stunned whimpers. ".•.. the…" Thud.
Incoherent, it clawed weakly at his chest and arms. He pounded it mercilessly.
"… gods.. •" Thud.
Its head cracked open like a Yule nut. Reeking gore poured from its broken skull and formed a puddle of wet stink on the parlor floor.
Gasping, weakened from blood loss, Cale collapsed on top of the corpse. The rush of rage fled his body as fast as it had come, and the vacuum left him quivering and exhausted. Blood and putrescence covered him but he hardly noticed. As his lungs heaved for air, he tried to gather himself.
The desperate shouts coming from the feasthall gave*"*" no time to rest. The terrible sounds pulled him to his feet and refueled his anger. Thazienne! Nearly slipping in the ghoul's brains, he bounded over the corpse and sprinted for the feasthall.
He stopped cold in the double doorway. Perivel's birthday celebration had been transformed into a chaotic melee of blood, screams, and death. Cale took it hi, horrified.
Near him, the oak feast table and most of the dinner chairs lay overturned. Broken dishes lay scattered across the floor. Toppled candles and spilled oil lamps had started a few scattered fires. Cale watched Shamur's tablecloths burn and the plush velvet curtains smolder. Wispy clouds of black smoke filled the room and gave the whole scene the look of some surreal vision from a nightmare. From everywhere, a horrid cacophony of terrified screams, hungry growls, and angry shouts filled his ears. Smears of blood stained everything red.
A pack of at least ten ghouls rampaged freely amidst the chaos. They bounded haphazardly through the clutter, attacking anything that came within their reach. Many guests were already paralyzed. He winced when he saw the wounds torn hi their bodies. The ghouls had devoured hunks of their bodies while they stood helpless. His eyes moved frantically from victim to victim, looking for the members of his family. He didn't see them.
Corpses lay scattered about the floor amidst the dishes and dining furniture, their bodies desiccated and unrecognizable. Not ghoul work, Cale realized, but he had no time to give it further thought.
He saw that the ghouls had herded most of the surviving guests to the far side of the feasthall, away from the double doors. Away from any means of escape. Though a few guests had tried to break the large, leaded glass windows, the beautifully crafted metal veins that depicted dragons in flight and men in battle imprisoned the guests as effectively as a jailer's cell. Outside, the safety of the patio and gardens tantaliz-ingly beckoned, just out of reach. Inside, the slaughter continued.
Here and there about the feasthall, groups of cornered noblemen fought the ghouls as best they could. The men pushed the women behind them and used table knives or heavy platters as makeshift weapons and shields. Gale watched transfixed as a ghoul leaped past the feeble weapons wielded by one elderly nobleman, knocked him to the floor, and began to feed. The man's pathetic screams ended when the ghoul tore open his throat.
The three old women the elderly nobleman had beea trying to protect screamed in terror and tried to flee. Two other ghouls bounded after them, pulled them down from behind, and began to feast.
Cale pushed aside his nausea and fear and looked frantically through the smoke for his family. Where are they, dammit?
At last he spotted them, across the hall standing behind a protective screen of the surviving house guards. Jander Orvist and the rest of his blue uniformed men had backed the family and many of the guests against the back wall and formed a semi-circle of flesh and steel around them. Each house guard brandished along sword and stout buckler. They made no move to attack but lashed out at any ghouls that came near.
Through the smoke, Cale could make out Shamur and Thamalon. The pair were struggling to get free of the ring to return and protect the rest of their friends, but Jander personally held them back.
Good man, Cale thought. The only safe place on that side of the feasthall was right where they were, behind Jander's men.
He saw that Tamlin, too, stood within the ring near his parents. He looked pale from fear, but still held his ground near the perimeter of the ring shielding two young women. Vox, Tamlin's huge, hairy bodyguard, had somehow produced a wide-bladed short sword and now stood alongside the guards, a grim scowl on his face. Many of the house guards, their uniforms stained black with blood, had already fallen to the ghoub'^claw8.The ghouls now looked to be keeping their distance. Captain Orvist was waiting for an opportune moment to make a run for the double doors.