Read Online Soul of Sorcery (Book 5) by Jonathan Moeller - Free Book Online
Authors: Jonathan Moeller
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zuvembies or the ebony dead, the pale undead did not seem mindless. They fought with skill and cunning, and some appeared more skilled than the others.
Yet in the end, their skill and strength could not match Lion's fire and the wizards' spells.
Mazael hacked down the last undead and looked around. At least thirty of his men and Toraine's lay upon the ground. And as he looked out the portcullis, he saw green light flaring at the base of the castle's hill.
More of the damned things were coming.
Timothy hurried over, followed by Molly and Romaria in her human shape once more.
"Your arrival was timely, my lord," said Timothy, wiping soot from his brow. His face was tight with strain, and sweat plastered his brown hair to his head. Just one of his fire spells seemed to take as much stamina as an hour's fighting, and he had cast three of them.
"Not timely enough," said Mazael, looking at the dead. Toraine joined them, the blue fire still dancing around his curved blade. Molly gave him a look dripping with disdain, but the Lord of Hanging Tower ignored her.
"What are these things?" said Romaria. "I've never seen undead like them."
"I know not, my lady," said Timothy.
"I know," said a man's voice.
Cold contempt flashed over Toraine's face.
Lucan Mandragon walked toward them, the smoldering coals of the destroyed undead crunching beneath his boots.
Toraine lifted his sword.
"So," he said. "The mighty wizard deigns to join us at last."
Lucan looked at his older brother, his face cold. Usually, when Lucan spoke of Toraine, both hatred and fear colored his expression. But now Mazael saw nothing but an icy emptiness.
"What are they, Lucan?" said Mazael.
"They're called runedead," said Lucan. "A powerful form of undead created by the necromancers of Dracaryl. The zuvembies and the ebony dead are simply mindless puppets. The runedead are something more. Far stronger, far faster, and they retain the skills they possessed in life."
"So some necromancer learned how to create them," said Mazael.
"No," said Molly. "Their swords and mail are made in the style of Dracaryl."
"And that earthquake opened a cave in the hill," said Romaria. "They came from there."
"Gods," said Mazael. "We’ve been sitting atop a ruin of Old Dracaryl for all these years?" The San-keth temple had been bad enough. How many more secrets did the castle hold?
"There's worse news," said Lucan. "It takes a necromancer of power to control runedead. I suspect something worse than the runedead was sealed in that cave."
"We heard a voice," said Molly. "Commanding the runedead and telling them to seize the Glamdaigyr."
Lucan blinked as if an idea had just occurred to him.
"Yes," he said. "If whatever was in that cave claims both the Glamdaigyr and the Banurdem...that would be very bad.”
"Well," said Mazael. "Then we find the thing that's commanding the runedead and kill it."
"My lord!" Hagen hurried over, sword in hand, blood trickling from a cut in his temple. "More of those corpses are coming up the hill!"
"Open the gate," said Mazael.
"My lord?"
"Do it," said Mazael. "The runedead can walk through the damned wall anyway. If we stay in here, they'll wear us down. So instead we shall march out and kill whatever is controlling the corpses."
Hagen nodded and shouted orders. Mazael's knights and armsmen arranged themselves in formation before the gate, spearmen in front, swordsmen behind. Mazael walked before their ranks, slapping Lion against every blade, until it looked like a forest of blue flame crackled in their midst.
Toraine's men formed up on the left, Toraine himself at their head.
"I hope you'll join us, my lord," said Mazael. Perhaps a runedead would split Toraine's skull with a black blade and solve several of Mazael’s problems.
Or perhaps, in the chaos of battle, Lion might accidentally plunge into Toraine's neck...
No.
Mazael pushed aside the thought, and slapped Lion against the blades of
Yet in the end, their skill and strength could not match Lion's fire and the wizards' spells.
Mazael hacked down the last undead and looked around. At least thirty of his men and Toraine's lay upon the ground. And as he looked out the portcullis, he saw green light flaring at the base of the castle's hill.
More of the damned things were coming.
Timothy hurried over, followed by Molly and Romaria in her human shape once more.
"Your arrival was timely, my lord," said Timothy, wiping soot from his brow. His face was tight with strain, and sweat plastered his brown hair to his head. Just one of his fire spells seemed to take as much stamina as an hour's fighting, and he had cast three of them.
"Not timely enough," said Mazael, looking at the dead. Toraine joined them, the blue fire still dancing around his curved blade. Molly gave him a look dripping with disdain, but the Lord of Hanging Tower ignored her.
"What are these things?" said Romaria. "I've never seen undead like them."
"I know not, my lady," said Timothy.
"I know," said a man's voice.
Cold contempt flashed over Toraine's face.
Lucan Mandragon walked toward them, the smoldering coals of the destroyed undead crunching beneath his boots.
Toraine lifted his sword.
"So," he said. "The mighty wizard deigns to join us at last."
Lucan looked at his older brother, his face cold. Usually, when Lucan spoke of Toraine, both hatred and fear colored his expression. But now Mazael saw nothing but an icy emptiness.
"What are they, Lucan?" said Mazael.
"They're called runedead," said Lucan. "A powerful form of undead created by the necromancers of Dracaryl. The zuvembies and the ebony dead are simply mindless puppets. The runedead are something more. Far stronger, far faster, and they retain the skills they possessed in life."
"So some necromancer learned how to create them," said Mazael.
"No," said Molly. "Their swords and mail are made in the style of Dracaryl."
"And that earthquake opened a cave in the hill," said Romaria. "They came from there."
"Gods," said Mazael. "We’ve been sitting atop a ruin of Old Dracaryl for all these years?" The San-keth temple had been bad enough. How many more secrets did the castle hold?
"There's worse news," said Lucan. "It takes a necromancer of power to control runedead. I suspect something worse than the runedead was sealed in that cave."
"We heard a voice," said Molly. "Commanding the runedead and telling them to seize the Glamdaigyr."
Lucan blinked as if an idea had just occurred to him.
"Yes," he said. "If whatever was in that cave claims both the Glamdaigyr and the Banurdem...that would be very bad.”
"Well," said Mazael. "Then we find the thing that's commanding the runedead and kill it."
"My lord!" Hagen hurried over, sword in hand, blood trickling from a cut in his temple. "More of those corpses are coming up the hill!"
"Open the gate," said Mazael.
"My lord?"
"Do it," said Mazael. "The runedead can walk through the damned wall anyway. If we stay in here, they'll wear us down. So instead we shall march out and kill whatever is controlling the corpses."
Hagen nodded and shouted orders. Mazael's knights and armsmen arranged themselves in formation before the gate, spearmen in front, swordsmen behind. Mazael walked before their ranks, slapping Lion against every blade, until it looked like a forest of blue flame crackled in their midst.
Toraine's men formed up on the left, Toraine himself at their head.
"I hope you'll join us, my lord," said Mazael. Perhaps a runedead would split Toraine's skull with a black blade and solve several of Mazael’s problems.
Or perhaps, in the chaos of battle, Lion might accidentally plunge into Toraine's neck...
No.
Mazael pushed aside the thought, and slapped Lion against the blades of
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