Belly of the Beast Warren Thomas (e novels for free .txt) 📖

group Nizar despised. Many were the times he was sick or injured, and sought out the Vikon, or other witches, for magical aid. And without fail, they turned him away. He was poor, and didn’t have the coin needed to receive their magical healing. He was forced to suffer like a mere animal, sullen and resentful as he huddled in some dark alley licking his wounds.

            Crouched down low, Nizar eased his way toward Joelle behind a trio of burly Lelts in mail armor. His plan was simple. Once the witch was engaged and hard-pressed by the Lelts, he would slip in and skewer her upon his spear.

            And he would truly begin to pay back all the slights and insults of his life.

            Holding his “advance guard” back until the right moment, Nizar savored the moment of his first real victory in personal combat. Or was it the second? He glanced up at the sky, seeing no sign of a raven. Was Ashtar dead? Injured badly? Only time would tell.

            A predatory grin split his dark face behind the veil. The witch was fighting for her life, bleeding from a dozen minor wounds already. Her prowess didn’t seem the least bit affected by her suffering, but that was about to change. Even a witch couldn’t survive a spear through the heart.

            “Now!” Nizar barked.

            His trio of zombie Lelts raised their swords and charged Joelle. She was frantic at the sight, still held in battle by another sword wielding zombie. For a brief instant, Nizar feared she would be killed by one of the Lelts before she could defend herself. But she proved adaptable and cunning.

            The trampled brush at their feet suddenly came to life and whipped at the zombies’ legs. One fell hard immediately. The other two plowed onward. Nizar fell back a step, just in case. When the tripped up zombie regain his feet, Nizar followed him in.

            “Craven...bastards!” Joelle cried. She cut her zombie foe down, and then turned on the trio rushing her. Just before she joined with them in battle, she saw Nizar. “You! I’ll skin you alive, you depraved cur!”

            “What a pleasant thought,” he returned with a sneer. “One I rather like, except you will be the one flayed alive! Take her!”

            Horror flashed across her face. It was enough. The three zombies leaped upon her during her instant of hesitation. She was seized and jerked well into the zombie lines. The other Vikon cried out in despair, frantic in his efforts to reach her.

            Nizar tightened his grip on the spear as he stepped forward. Joelle was held firmly by two of the zombies, one on each arm. The third zombie stepped behind her, and then brought the pommel of his sword down hard atop her head. She managed to jerk her head aside enough to mute the force of the blow, but still sagged in her captors’ arms.

            Nizar quickly unbuckled the straps holding her body armor in place, tossing the armor aside. Only a sweaty tunic, plastered tightly against her chest, separated them. He took a step back, both hands on his spear, and prepared to end her life.

            Slowly coming to her senses, she cried out, eyes huge, as she struggled with all of her might and heart. Nizar caught and held her eyes.

            “Victory feels so good!” Nizar said as he thrust for her heart.

            Joelle jerked straight down, and then wailed in pain as the spear pierced her chest just above the left teat. Realizing he had missed the heart, due to her frantic attempt to escape, Nizar tried to pull the spear out for another try. But a heart-stopping battle cry halted him.

            The other Vikon jumped amid them, wildly slashing and cutting at the men holding her. Nizar scrambled back into the safety of the zombie horde. As the witch fell away, he felt a moment’s regret that the last face she saw before life left her wasn’t going to be his. But she knew he had killed her. Her soul would know it, too, for all eternity.

Chapter 33

            A piercing scream startled Tane. Joelle fell back through the lines, a spear through her chest. Quinn tried to go to her, but a trio of zombies attacked him. There was no sign of Armin. Once the zombies were dealt with, Tane forgot the battle and rushed to Joelle’s side, helping her to the shade of a giant oak.

            Blood was pouring from her wounds, mouth and nose. Her eyes were glassy and her body trembled terribly. Tane felt the tears welling up as he saw his friend dying.

            Gently lowering her to the grassy ground, “What can I do?”

            “Pull...the spear...out,” she gasped. “Can’t work...my magic...too much pain, distraction.”

            Tane recalled the spell that healed his wound. The spell she had cast just before the battle began. The spell hadn’t been activated until after he removed the dagger. But her wound was so much more insidious. It was a mortal wound if he had ever seen one. But...she was a witch and wielded great power.

            The spear was an ugly weapon. A Leltic boarspear. Its head was a foot of leaf-shaped iron, honed razor sharp, and fastened to a thick wooden shaft seven feet long. It was thrust into Joelle up to the crossguard just below the spearhead. Tane saw no way to remove it without further injuring his friend. Joelle proved no help, for she had fainted.

            “Kamain Protect!” Tane cried, doing his best to line up the spearhead’s blades with the wound, and then just jerked it straight back and out.

            Joelle awoke screaming. Tane wrapped his arms around her when she started trashing wildly, fearing she’d hurt herself further. Then a plaintive wail rose up from the battle behind him. 

            Tane turned to see the Kestsaxian lines lurch backwards, then turn about and dash for the forest. Drum and bugle commands were ignored as terrified men and