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

and leaps over the diving lizardman before delivering a heel kick to his spine. The swamp echoes with a series of loud pops as several vertebrae are dislocated and broken by the single blow.
    Grunting and shrieking, the Tribe Baron struggles to stand and signals for his spear to be thrown to him. Catching the weapon, he uses it as a crutch while the silver powder in his scars sinks beneath his scales. The enchanted dust swirls through the lizardman’s veins and repairs the damage to his spine, the agony subsiding within seconds. Unleashing a predatory hiss, the Tribe Baron opens his mouth to proudly reveal his steadily regenerating teeth. Standing at his full thirteen foot height, the giltris can feel his pain receptors go numb and his muscles bloat from the magical enhancement.
    “I’m sorry, but that still won’t be enough,” Dariana politely states as she considers making herself immune to pain. She decides to leave herself unaltered, hoping to give the giltris a small chance. “You may keep your weapon. I could use a little practice against things other than swords and axes.”
    The polished tip of the spear lances toward the champion’s face only to be batted away like an irritating fly. Dariana repeatedly blocks the weapon while backing toward the bonfire, the intense heat making her sweat. She trips over a stone and barely ducks a tight swing, but the edge of the spear still cuts her forehead. The burning pain causes her to pause for an instant, which is enough for the Tribe Baron to barrel forward. His shoulder slams into her chest and the pair tumble toward the roaring flames. As the heavy weight of the giltris cracks some of her bones, Dariana braces her feet against his stomach and launches her enemy into the bonfire. Still rolling from the impact, she crashes against the ring of hot stones and immediately crawls away before they can burn her skin.
    “Maybe I shouldn’t have played with him,” Dariana mutters as she stands and touches the aching cut on her face. Green ooze is mixed with her blood, which numbs her fingertips. “There was a poison on that weapon. Do you know what it might be, Timoran?”
    A howl of rage erupts from the bonfire as the Tribe Baron leaps out of the deep pit. He is covered in fire that continues to burn his dark scales, but the magical powder prevents him from feeling the agony. Every movement cracks his fragile skin, revealing pink flesh that turns black from the heat wafting off his body. Tossing his smoking spear to the side, the giltris sprints at his injured prey and grins at the thought of burning her in his hands. The charge abruptly turns into an awkward stumble that ends with the Tribe Baron crashing to the ground and skidding to the feet of Dariana. All she can do is stare at the polished halberd that is sticking out of the back of her enemy’s blackening skull.
    The remaining giltris screech in terror as they dive into the water, leaving only a handful of brave warriors behind. Wild-haired men and women crash through the swamp to make short work of the lizardmen who are unable to deliver a single blow. The barbarians’ shouts and roars echo throughout the area to send the survivors retreating to the top of the nearby hills. Distant hisses and snarls can be heard by the war party’s keen ears, but they only laugh at the feeble, empty threats while tending to the prisoners. A tall and slender woman with auburn hair frees Nyx, the metal chains easily snapped by the powerful warrior’s hands. Luke is helped to his feet by a stocky barbarian wearing chainmail, the bearded man sending him back to the ground with a solid slap to the shoulder.
    “Are there any other prisoners besides you and your two friends, ma’am?” a black-haired barbarian asks as he approaches Dariana. There is a friendly glint in his sapphire eyes and his bare chest is marred by the old claw marks of a wyvern. The beast’s scaly hide has been turned into a pair of metal studded bracers that the