Man-wolf's dripping head.
But then a horse crashed into his, and Alphonse flew spinning through the murk, and landed face down in churned mud.
He jumped to his feet, wiping the mud from his eyes, in time to parry a savage attack by a Dragoon. Alphonse cut the Dragoon at the knees, and the man fell screaming.
Alphonse leaped astride a riderless horse, whirled, and rode hard back into the fray, smashing aside lance points with his cutlass.
He glimpsed the kingly figure of Gar Fith -- yes, it was him. There was the lurid red gleam of the Blood Amulet dangling on its heavy tarnished silver chain around his neck.
The High King of the Man Wolves was surrounded by black flowing shapes -- Vampyes , slashing at him from all directions.
Sparks flew as if in a forge. The High King was howling curses and cutting down the black shapes as they whirled at him, some on horseback and some diving inkily from the air.
And now Alphonse, his pine-eyes wide in horror, saw the High King knocked from his horse, crashing to the mud.
And, almost simultaneously, Alphonse saw the elegant black-armored figure of Edward Blackgore leaping from a horse, sword glittering aloft, to take the High King's head.
Alphonse kicked his mount and smashed through a group of Dragoons from behind, trampling them.
It all seemed to be unfolding in deep, murky nightmare slow motion.
The Blood Amulet
The High King of the Man-wolves now smashed at the Vampyre Lord with a mailed fist, sending him sprawling. He staggered to his feet, snatching up his muddy battle cutlass.
Edward Blackgore rebounded at the High King like a fury, and naked steel screeched and sparked as they fought.
Alphonse, rushing to the High King's side, felt a sharp blow from behind, and suddenly he was somersaulting.
Shot!
He landed in deep mud, and the horse, also somersaulting, landed squarely on top of him with a scream. Alphonse heard his limbs cracking like tinder wood.
He writhed and struggled and clawed to get out from under the kicking horse. He did not know how long it took to free himself. Maybe he crawled out from under, or maybe the horse rolled away.
But as he stood shakily, knock kneed in the whirl of the battle, he saw that the High King had brought down Edward Blackgore , and was straddling the Vampyre Lord to deliver a death blow.
Alphonse's puppet mouth gaped open wide when he saw a lance thrust through the High King from behind, the gleaming point sticking out from the muddy breastplate, and a gush of bright blood.
The High King of the Man Wolves staggered, howling, as the lance lifted him from his feet, dangled him, then dropped him ingloriously face down into the trampled muck, where his corpse lay still.
Alphonse now saw who had killed the Wolf King.
It was Lady Blackgore , on horseback, holding a Dragoon's lance -- in full armor, her head tilted back, laughing joyously.
Alphonse saw Edward Blackgore leap to his feet, grinning like the ghoul he was, and approaching the High King's corpse with a dagger in his mailed fist -- to deliver the coup de grace, no doubt. Or to take a prize.
The Blood Amulet! the puppet boy thought. If it fell into the hands of the Vampyre Coven --
He sprinted forward, his pine limbs clicking, drawing a loaded pistols from his belt as he rushed.
Jumping over bodies, fallen horses, splashing in deep mud.
He had lost his cutlass in the melee. But yesterday in Wolfweir castle, at Lucia's advice, he had loaded the twin dueling pistols with balls dipped in Holy Water.
This, she'd said, could kill a Vampyre -- but only with a direct hit to the heart.
He had little hope of that. Edward Blackgore was in full armor. As was his laughing Vampire Lady.
But he only needed an instant's diversion.
He got it. The Vampire Lord turned his head as Alphonse leaped. Alphonse fired point blank into Edward Blackgore's grinning
But then a horse crashed into his, and Alphonse flew spinning through the murk, and landed face down in churned mud.
He jumped to his feet, wiping the mud from his eyes, in time to parry a savage attack by a Dragoon. Alphonse cut the Dragoon at the knees, and the man fell screaming.
Alphonse leaped astride a riderless horse, whirled, and rode hard back into the fray, smashing aside lance points with his cutlass.
He glimpsed the kingly figure of Gar Fith -- yes, it was him. There was the lurid red gleam of the Blood Amulet dangling on its heavy tarnished silver chain around his neck.
The High King of the Man Wolves was surrounded by black flowing shapes -- Vampyes , slashing at him from all directions.
Sparks flew as if in a forge. The High King was howling curses and cutting down the black shapes as they whirled at him, some on horseback and some diving inkily from the air.
And now Alphonse, his pine-eyes wide in horror, saw the High King knocked from his horse, crashing to the mud.
And, almost simultaneously, Alphonse saw the elegant black-armored figure of Edward Blackgore leaping from a horse, sword glittering aloft, to take the High King's head.
Alphonse kicked his mount and smashed through a group of Dragoons from behind, trampling them.
It all seemed to be unfolding in deep, murky nightmare slow motion.
The Blood Amulet
The High King of the Man-wolves now smashed at the Vampyre Lord with a mailed fist, sending him sprawling. He staggered to his feet, snatching up his muddy battle cutlass.
Edward Blackgore rebounded at the High King like a fury, and naked steel screeched and sparked as they fought.
Alphonse, rushing to the High King's side, felt a sharp blow from behind, and suddenly he was somersaulting.
Shot!
He landed in deep mud, and the horse, also somersaulting, landed squarely on top of him with a scream. Alphonse heard his limbs cracking like tinder wood.
He writhed and struggled and clawed to get out from under the kicking horse. He did not know how long it took to free himself. Maybe he crawled out from under, or maybe the horse rolled away.
But as he stood shakily, knock kneed in the whirl of the battle, he saw that the High King had brought down Edward Blackgore , and was straddling the Vampyre Lord to deliver a death blow.
Alphonse's puppet mouth gaped open wide when he saw a lance thrust through the High King from behind, the gleaming point sticking out from the muddy breastplate, and a gush of bright blood.
The High King of the Man Wolves staggered, howling, as the lance lifted him from his feet, dangled him, then dropped him ingloriously face down into the trampled muck, where his corpse lay still.
Alphonse now saw who had killed the Wolf King.
It was Lady Blackgore , on horseback, holding a Dragoon's lance -- in full armor, her head tilted back, laughing joyously.
Alphonse saw Edward Blackgore leap to his feet, grinning like the ghoul he was, and approaching the High King's corpse with a dagger in his mailed fist -- to deliver the coup de grace, no doubt. Or to take a prize.
The Blood Amulet! the puppet boy thought. If it fell into the hands of the Vampyre Coven --
He sprinted forward, his pine limbs clicking, drawing a loaded pistols from his belt as he rushed.
Jumping over bodies, fallen horses, splashing in deep mud.
He had lost his cutlass in the melee. But yesterday in Wolfweir castle, at Lucia's advice, he had loaded the twin dueling pistols with balls dipped in Holy Water.
This, she'd said, could kill a Vampyre -- but only with a direct hit to the heart.
He had little hope of that. Edward Blackgore was in full armor. As was his laughing Vampire Lady.
But he only needed an instant's diversion.
He got it. The Vampire Lord turned his head as Alphonse leaped. Alphonse fired point blank into Edward Blackgore's grinning