Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) by Charles E. Yallowitz Read Free Book Online

out of his bonds. With two loud pops, Luke repairs his body and flips himself onto the branch to take the pressure off his shoulders. An axe flies through the air and shatters the tree limb, sending the forest tracker crashing to the moist ground. He is about to stand when a solid stomp from the Tribe Baron knocks the wind out of his lungs. The giltris continues crushing Luke’s chest, a few drops of drool falling into the champion’s hair. Sharp claws curl to scratch at the warrior’s clothes and draw some blood until the giltris reaches down to toss the half-elf aside.
    “Too scrawny to entertain,” the scarred lizardman declares before hissing and grunting at a higher pitch. The other giltris gather on solid land, each one kneeling to their leader. “We have feast for good hunt. Eat well and honor Harmoke. Lord of River and King of Scaled Ones will bless. Our bellies will fill with fresh meat. First we fight worthy foe. No weapons. Strength versus strength. Good fight mean happy god.”
    “I don’t really think Harmoke cares,” Luke mutters while getting to his feet. He tries to wipe the mud off his shirt, but only smears the muck around his leather armor patches. “I’ll be the one to fight you.”
    The Tribe Baron laughs and gestures for two of his warriors to restrain the half-elf. “You no fun. Magic woman cheat. Barbarian best choice. His tribe war with us for long time. He give us true fight.”
    “I guess he wants to fight me,” Timoran says as he hugs the snow tiger cubs closer to his body. He leans down to release the animals, but they dig their claws into his flesh and snarl at the surrounding giltris. “It appears my new charges refuse to let me go. I cannot fight like this. Do you have any suggestions, my friend?”
    The Tribe Baron scowls at the barbarian and struggles to use Tradespeak. “Eat cubs first.”
    Dariana clears her throat and snaps the ropes that are binding her hands, the telepath enhancing the sound to startle the giltris. Several spears and swords point in her direction as she massages her sore shoulders and cracks her neck. Tightening the side straps of her blue top, the silver-haired woman moves between Timoran and the Tribe Baron. Her steps are silent and graceful, which makes the scarred lizardman lick his lips in primal curiosity. Peering into her eyes, his heart mysteriously stutters as if scared by what he sees.
    “Let me fight for your god and entertainment,” Dariana requests while bouncing on her toes and stretching her arms. When her enemy starts to laugh, she spits at his clawed feet and beckons for him to attack. “You fight barbarians all the time. Harmoke would find such a display boring and a sign of laziness. Try taking on an adventurer like me. I promise that he will grant you years of good hunting if you can win. Maybe he’ll even make your little swamp grow beyond these hills.”
    The Tribe Baron snorts and backs towards the bowl of soup, his yellow eyes locked on the strange woman. His forked tongue snakes out to taste the broth and catch part of a squirrel that he devours in one bite. With a piercing wail, the old female dances around her leader and throws handfuls of silver powder over his head. The dust sticks to every scar on his body to create an impressive display of glistening wounds that would intimidate a less experienced opponent. Slapping his powerful tail on the earth, the Tribe Baron calmly walks toward Dariana and hunkers down to start a sprinting pounce. He leaps with his toothy mouth open and his claws stretch to tear into his pale-skinned prey.
    With a quick twist of her body, Dariana steps between the giltris’s arms and delivers a quick palm strike to the bottom of his jaw. Teeth shatter as his mouth slams shut, but the Tribe Baron has no time to recover as he is flipped over his enemy’s head. Rolling onto all fours, the giltris avoids a blow to his chest and spins to knock the champion aside with his tail. Dariana flips to her feet