Wrath of a Mad God by Raymond E. Feist Read Free Book Online

me!”
    Men hurried to him while the now-flaming monster snagged another screaming man and ripped his arm off while his torso was engulfed in fire. “Form circle!” shouted Jommy, and the men nearby gathered in a tight knot around him. To the soldier who had warned him of the move on their flank, he shouted, “Find the General, and tell the others to fall back to wherever he is. We’ll hold them here! Go!”
    The messenger ran off.
    “Shield wall!” was Jommy’s next command, and the trained soldiers linked shields and suddenly he and two others, both irregulars from Krondor, stood in a tiny fortress of shields.
    He had no faith in his order. Jommy knew that should the advancing monster strike the front of the shield wall, several of them would be instantly incinerated and the defensive position would collapse. But it was the only thing he could think of doing to buy a few minutes for the rest of the men to fall back to wherever Kaspar waited.
    The creature stood motionless for a moment, and the magic-user pointed at the men clustered around Jommy with his staff and shouted something in the alien tongue. The creature took a great stride toward them and Jommy shouted, “Steady!”
    The creature halted for a moment, and raised his fist up high above them. Jommy shouted, “Turtle!” He dropped his sword and sat down hard, yanking the two men next to him down to keep them from injury.
    The men raised their shields overhead, and braced themselves as they would for a barrage of falling arrows. The flaming monster’s fist, now the size of an anvil, crashed down on a pair of shields, causing one man to go to his knees and the other to collapse completely.
    “Bloody hell!” said one of the irregulars, his eyes wide with terror.
    “Scatter!” shouted Jommy: confusion was the only way to save as many men as possible. The two irregulars crawled away, while the soldiers did as they had been trained, each man running off directly away from the center of the turtle, putting as much space as possible between themselves and their comrades. Those in the front fell straight back, then turned and fled.
    Kaspar’s own archers had attempted to hurt the creature, but their arrows were having no effect, the iron heads bouncing off the thing’s hide while the shafts burst into flame. Waves of heat rolled over Jommy, as if he were standing before an open oven.
    With a sweep of arms now as long as a spear, the creature knocked men aside as if he were playing with children. Whatever he touched burst into flames: men lay screaming and dying.
    As Jommy pulled back, the creature seemed to notice him, and started toward him. Jommy braced himself, sure that in an instant he would be either crushed or burned to death. As he raised his sword to defend himself he saw beyond the creature a figure rising out of the surf. Water dripping off his face, his clothing soaked through, Jim Dasher seemed to appear out of nowhere as he came up from a low crouch to stand behind the magician. With a deft move so fast Jommy could barely follow it, the Krondorian thief raised his hands before him, crossed at the wrist, and flipped something over the magician’s head. Suddenly the spell caster was yanked backward as Jim brought his knee up into the magician’s spine, and even with the pounding of the surf, the tattoo of the rain, and the screams from dying men Jommy could hear the snap of the man’s spine. Blood sprayed from the magician’s neck and he waved his arms for a brief instant before going limp.
    As the magician died, the creature faltered, and then stopped and looked around as if waiting to be told what to do next. He howled, an echoing sound that grated on the ears and sent shivers through Jommy’s body. Then the monster lashed out, first one way, then another. Men scattered, even those wearing the blackheadcloths more intent on putting space between themselves and the apparition than in continuing the fight. Jommy threw himself backward,