Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4)

Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4) by Craig Halloran Page A

Book: Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4) by Craig Halloran Read Free Book Online
Authors: Craig Halloran
legs and his back. He had to free himself.
    The Gnoll snatched his leg.
    He kicked it in the face. He was free.
    The other two were coming. Drawing their weapons. Still gawking at the twisted crossbow and bolts that writhed on the ground.
    Shum went for his sword, snatching it from the ground. He wished he could keep running. Into the forest. Lose them. Survive. Fight later. He was bleeding too badly, though. It was fight now or never. He stopped. Turned.
    They swarmed him.
    The first one was big, clumsy.
    Slash!
    It died.
    The next lunged. A big axe in its hands. Shum side stepped.
    Crack!
    Drove the pommel of his sword in to the back of its head. It was out.
    “You’re good, Ranger,” the leader said. “But yer bleedin’ to death too . I think I’ll watch. Wait for the reinforcements to arrive.”
    “Trust me, Gnoll, you’ll be dead cold before they get here.”
    “Is that so ?” it said. “How you figure?”
    Shum swayed. A wave of nausea hit him. His chin dipped. His knees buckled.
    The Gnoll barked at him. “You’ve got nothing left. I’m taking you out.” It came at him. Savage. Powerful. Flail spinning like stars in the air. Its eyes widened. It caught the steely eyes in the Elf. It tried to stop, but couldn’t.
    Shum struck like a cobra. The blade went in one side and out the other.
    The leader died, mouth wide open.
    “They always fall for that,” Shum said, removing his blade and fetching his dagger. Still ailing, he hobbled after the women.

 
    CHAPTER 19
     
     
    It was strange. The music the Satyrs summoned ben t my knees, my ears, even the trees right before my eyes.
    The little beady-eyed horn -heads were full of surprises. Deceivers. Stealers. Enslavers. And Dragon poachers. They loved Dragon charms, bones, teeth and scales, more than gold itself.
    I fought for my focus. Locking my eyes on their twisting and distorted faces , I yelled. At least I think I did.
    I could see my bow, Akron, in my hand that I could not feel. An arrow was stuck between my numb fingers. I fought against the music. The horror. The carnival erupting in my mind.
    Come on , Dragon! Do it! Do it or you’re done for!
    Muscles straining , I forced my Dragon hands to respond. Shaking, I nocked the arrow. I rolled on my back. I think I did anyway. I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I was watching someone else’s hands draw back the string. An out of body experience of sorts. I took aim at the nearest obscured image before me and let the arrow fly.
    The snapping string cracked in my ear. Not tight, but slow. The arrow sped away from me at an agonizing pace. Even an Ettin could have dodged that slow arrow.
    I felt my breath thinning. Drops of sweat fell in front of my eyes. All I wanted to do was escape the madness. Sleep. Find my legs and run. But at the moment, I could do nothing. Just suffer the insufferable sound of the pipe -playing Satyrs.
    “Uh!”
    The music shifted. Stopped.
    My head pounded like a drum but my vision began to clear.
    The male Satyr clutched at its belly. Its pipes no longer pressed to its lips, but on the ground.
    The woman dashed over on her hooves. Distraught and full of worry. She leaned her mate back in her arms. Tear s swelled in her eyes.
    The male gasped for breath. Clutched its side. Looked right at me. Then at my Dragon arms. Its eyes widened, and it whispered to the female Satyr.
    I gathered my feet under me and stumbled over. I didn’t want to see him die.
    Brenwar beat me there.
    Crack!
    He walloped the female in the back of the head with a leaden bag called a Dwarven Sap.
    She pitched forward. Knocked out cold in her mate’s lap.
    “Brenwar,” I said, “did you have to be so gruff. She’s a—”
    “She’s no she. It’s a Satyr. A monster. About to kill us both.”
    Crack!
    He stomped her set of pipes under his boot. Crushed them into the ground.
    The male Sat yr let out a whine. Like a goat.
    Pop!
    Brenwar slugged it in the jaw. It fell over. He snatched its pipes off

Similar Books

R My Name Is Rachel

Patricia Reilly Giff

Cowboys Mine

Stacey Espino

Heat Wave

Judith Arnold

The Reaches

David Drake

Storm Prey

John Sandford

Ghost Story

Jim Butcher