Call of Kerberos: Twilight of Kerberos, The - Jonathan Oliver Page 0,3
exclamation a thick rope of water erupted from the waves.
One of the guards dropped his weapon as a tentacle of water snaked around his neck. Hearing the snap of vertebrae his comrade started to scramble down the rigging, but before he could reach the deck he was thrown clear of the ship, crashing into the side of a warehouse. The last man was picked from the foremast, where he had been standing frozen in shock. His bow dropped from his numb fingers as an arm of living water encircled his waist. He looked down as the ship receded below him and then he was upside-down and the sea was rushing towards him.
Kelos lowered his hands and edged towards the dock wall but the guard didn't resurface. The tendrils of water fell, lifeless, and Dunsany and a shaken Emuel emerged from hiding.
"I think that you've found a new way to clear the decks. Don't suppose there's anything you can do for laughing boy here is there?" Kelos cast a silence spell on the eunuch. Emuel looked offended and opened his mouth, but his protest failed to emerge. "Thank the Gods for that. I didn't fancy boarding the Llothriall while he continued to scream the place down. Now, when we want you to sing, you'll sing okay? Kelos, lead the way."
On board, at the bottom of the steps leading below, they stopped in front of a door. Dunsany cocked his crossbow and put his ear to the wood. He was raising his arm to signal that it was safe for them to proceed when twelve inches of steel erupted from the door just by his nose. The sword was quickly withdrawn and the door burst open. Kelos flung his palms out and a fireball thudded into the chest of the man who emerged, launching him backwards down the corridor behind him.
Dunsany glanced back at his friend as he stepped over the felled guard.
"I'm warning you now that I can't keep this up for much longer," Kelos panted.
"Relax, we're almost there."
Two more short flights of steps and a long corridor led them to the heart of the ship. They stopped in front of a reinforced door, elvish script covering its surface. Kelos traced the design with his fingers, muttering something to himself. Eventually he stepped back and nodded. "That's the advantage of having designed the wards, I know how to counteract them. On three?" He drew a short sword.
"On three." Dunsany agreed, drawing his own blade.
As they charged into the room Kelos was flung against the ceiling. For a moment he thought that the boat had taken a massive hit, but then he saw the man in the corner, smiling as he weaved threads of magic, muttering strange syllables.
Kelos's windpipe started to constrict as the Shadowmage increased his hold. Below him, Dunsany was squaring off against the guards who stood in front of the magical gem that was the engine of the vessel. The stone, sitting in its housing of metal and wood, seemed to whisper to Kelos as he gasped for breath.
He watched as Dunsany swung at one of the guards. The man tumbled to the side to avoid the blow and Dunsany took the opportunity to fire a quarrel at the other guard.
When the quarrel entered his thigh, the man grunted and stepped back. However, the injury hadn't slowed him as he roared and shoulder charged Dunsany into the wall. The guard pushed his blade against Dunsany's throat but Dunsany gritted his teeth, reversed his grip on his sword and rammed the pommel into the base of the guard's neck. The man dropped and Kelos cried out a warning as the remaining guard stepped in to fill the gap.
Dunsany failed to fully evade the blow and the blade sliced into his cheek, flicking blood into his eyes. He staggered and almost tripped over Emuel, who was on the floor behind him, rocking back and forth. The guard took advantage of the stumble and swung again, this time nicking Dunsany's wrist, making him drop his sword. Dunsany raised his crossbow and fired. Kelos saw the mage in the corner blink and the quarrel turned to powder millimetres from the guard's face.
"I knew Makennon should never have trusted scum like you." The guard said, brushing dust from his jerkin. "If you ask me we didn't do enough in converting this shit hole you people call home. Unbelievers should have been put to the sword a long time ago."