Bodvar appeared at Melegaunt's side, nearly losing hishand when he made the mistake of grabbing the wizard's shoulder withoutwarning.
"Stop them!"
"How?" Melegaunt asked. He caught abattering wing on his shoulder, then lopped it off and slashed his attackeracross the back of the knees. "The choice is theirs. They would ratherlive than die."
"Not live in your service!" Bodvar objected."You arranged this."
"Not arranged," Melegaunt replied. Hepointed his palm behind the angry Vaasan's head and blasted a would-be attackerwith a shadow bolt. "You give me too much credit."
"And you do not give me enough," saidBodvar. The Vaasan stepped close, and Melegaunt felt the tip of a sword pressedto his back. "Release my clan."
Melegaunt glared at the chieftain and said, "Atthe moment, Bodvar, you have worse enemies than me." Relying on hisshadow armor to protect him, he reached back and snapped the steel sword withhis bare hand. "If you want them released, do it yourself. All you need dois persuade them to set aside their swords."
Melegaunt shoved the chieftain away and turned back tothe battle. With most of the glass swords in hand, the Vaasans seemed to havematters well under control. The dragonmen were being forced steadily away fromthe shelters, and even when they attempted to use their wings to slip over thedefenders, they were met with a flurry of flashing shadow. Finally, they gaveup trying and took wing-at least those who could.
Dozens of wounded saurians remained behind with wingstoo shredded or broken to lift them, yet still strong enough to fight-andferocious enough to do it well. The Vaasans quickly set to work on them,herding them into a tight ball and driving them toward the cliffs on the eastside of the work site. Seeing that only one sword remained, Melegaunt left themto their work and quietly went to the rack and slipped the last sword into hisempty scabbard-and that was when Bodvar choose to assert himself again.
"My warriors, look at each other!" hecalled. "See what Melegaunt's devil weapons have done to you?"
Melegaunt groaned and shook his head in resignation.Were Bodvar not so stubborn and sure of himself, the wizard supposed, he wouldnot be worth the trouble in the first place. He turned to find the chieftainand his loyal wife standing behind their warriors, Idona holding a cloak loadedwith an armful of steel swords, which Bodvar was trying none too successfullyto press into his clansmen's hands.
"Finish the battle with your own weapons,"he said.
One of the sword-takers-Melegaunt thought it was thefirst-scowled.
"Why would we do that?" He hefted hisdarksword and said, "These are better."
"Better?"
Bodvar lunged for the sword-and was dropped to theground by a solid elbow to the face.
"This one belongs to me," the warrior said.
"Does it?" Idona dumped the steel swords onthe ground. "Or do you belong to it?"
She glared over her shoulder with a look that sent acold shiver down Melegaunt's spine, then she grabbed her husband beneath hisarms.
"Come, Bodvar." She pulled him to his feetand turned to leave. "We are Moor Eagles no more."
"Leaving?" gasped the warrior who had struckBodvar. He looked at his darksword a moment, then, as a discontented murmurbegan to build among his fellows, lowered the weapon. "Wait."
Melegaunt cursed Idona for an ungrateful shrew and,fumbling in his thoughts for some way to salvage the situation, startedforward. As usual, it was the dragonmen who saved him. All at once, they burstinto action, hurling themselves at the distracted Vaasans. The firstsword-taker and another warrior fell instantly, and the work site erupted intoa maelstrom of violence even more confused and ferocious than the first.Melegaunt saw pair of saurians springing in Bodvar's direction and took thefirst out with a bolt of shadow, but the second was too quick. It bowled thechieftain over on the run and lashed out for Idona, then a half-dozen othermelees drifted between Melegaunt and the chieftain's young wife, and he losther.
Melegaunt rushed forward swinging sword and sprayingshadow, but the battle was as mad and confused as it was quick. Before he couldfind Bodvar again, he had to slay two dragonmen and use a spell ofshadow-grabbing to keep from being dashed lifeless on the rocks at the base ofhis own cliff.
When Melegaunt did find the chieftain, he wished hehad not been so quick to save himself. Bodvar was standing in the midst of abloody pile of Vaasans and dragonmen, holding two broken swords of steel andsearching the carnage with a look of utter terror on his face.
"Idona?"
Bodvar found a female leg kicking at the ground frombeneath a dead dragonman and used a boot to roll the white-scaled corpse away,but it turned out that the leg belonged to another woman.
He turned away from her without comment and called again,"Idona?"
"There," rasped someone. "They've gother."
Melegaunt spun toward the speaker and found apallid-faced sword-bearer pointing across the work site to a small knot offleeing dragonmen. They were just starting down the trail toward the boulderwalk, each one with a limp Vaasan body slung over its shoulders. The last bodyin line was that of Bodvar's young wife, her throat ripped out and her headdangling by the spine alone, her blue eyes somehow still locked on Melegaunt'sface.
"No!" Melegaunt gasped. He laid a hand onBodvar's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bodvar. Sorry beyond words."
"Why? You have what you came for," saidBodvar. He reached down to Melegaunt's scabbard and drew the last darksword,then raced after the dragonmen to reclaim the body of his dead wife. "Youhave your twenty souls."
BLOOD SPORT
Christie Golden
"I understand you're used to being on the otherside of these iron bars," said the woman called the Shark. Her black eyeswere hard as she gazed through the barred window into the Mistledale prisoncell. "Weren't you once captain of the Riders? They called you Rhynn 'theFair,' right? Oh, but that was before you turned traitor to the people you weresworn to protect."
Inmate Rhynn, an indigo-haired moon elf, did notreply. Only her clenched hands, their slim wrists encircled by metal shackles,betrayed her tension.
The Shark opened the door with the key given her bythe new captain of the Riders. She leaned her tall, well-muscled frame casuallyagainst the cold stone of the cell. The elf's glare grew more hostile, thoughshe trembled violently. A malicious smile spread across the Shark's tanned face. Herfunctional, masculine garb-wool tunic, breeches, and cape-kept her warm, evenin the middle of the month of Hammer. Rhynn Oriandis was clad only in a shabbytunic that dozens of prisoners before her had worn. Her skin, pale as that ofthe quarry the Shark hunted, was covered with gooseflesh.
The Shark knelt and brought her tawny face within aninch of Rhynn's.
"It's all come out, Rhynn. I want thevampire."
"I don't care what lies you've heard. He deservedto go free."
"Ah, you elves do protect your own, don'tyou?" The Shark's lips curled in a sneer. "I've never heard of anelven vampire before. I'm looking forward to this case."
"Race had nothing to do-"
"It had everything to do with your actions!" the Shark interrupted. "What you forgot is that this creature is not anelf any longer and therefore did not deserve your misplaced protection. He's avampire. They are things of purest evil. They know no race, and the only thingthey 'deserve' is a stake through the heart. Give me the information I want,or I'll simply take it from you."