Knight Eternal (A Novel of Epic Fantasy) (Harbinger of Doom Volume 3) Read Online Free

and
roused the garrison to arms.
    “ Bar the door, and stand
well back,” shouted Jude after the last of the soldiers dashed
through the portal.
    The men crowded about the tower’s entry hall
and on the winding stair to the upper chambers. They heard screams
and war cries from without as guards from other parts of the keep
descended upon the messenger and died for it.
    “ What is that thing?” said
Malcolm. “How do we fight it?”
    “ We wouldn’t have to fight
it if you weren’t an idiot,” said Jude. “Some monster out of
Nifleheim. It’s beyond our ken. I know not how to bring it
down.”
    The messenger stepped
through the door, though the door did not open. It passed through
the solid oak, banded and reinforced in honest steel and iron, as
if it were but empty air. Startled, the men jumped back. Many went
down in a heap as they stumbled over those behind. Several crossbow
bolts flew, passed through the creature, and embedded themselves in
the door before they too burned to ash.
    “ To the chapel,” shouted
Jude, “Run.”
    Those on the stair turned heel and raced up
the winding steps shouting the alarm as they went. Up and up they
raced to the third floor, which housed the keep’s place of worship.
What men were still with Jude dashed in, closed, and barred the big
double doors.
    “ What do we do?” yelled
Malcolm.
    “ Holy water,” said
Marzdan.
     
    The soldiers stood in a semi-circular line
some ten feet from the barred door. Each held a basin of holy
water, or one of the chapel’s holy symbols or relics.
    “ We’ve no priests to bless
the weapons,” said Malcolm.
    “ Don’t worry, young
master,” said Captain Marzdan. “They’ll work. They have
to.”
    Long seconds passed. A scream or two from
without and below heralded the messenger’s approach. Then it passed
through the barred door, again as if it wasn’t there. The room
instantly grew frigid, the light from the sconces wavered and
dimmed, and the air filled with the creature’s fetid stench.
    “ Begone, creature,”
shouted Jude. “You can’t enter this holy place. Begone.”
    “ You be no priest,” said
the messenger. “You hath no power over me.”
    The men flung their holy water, dousing the
spot where the messenger stood, though the water passed through it
and the messenger paid it no heed. It moved forward, toward
Jude.
    Malcolm held a staff upon which was mounted
an ancient, holy relic of Odin, father of the gods. He thrust it
forward and pressed the end to the creature’s forehead. This time,
the weapon met resistance; the relic seared the messenger’s skull
and held fast.
    The creature snarled and spasmed. It lashed
out and grabbed the staff, howling in rage. Where its claws grasped
the oak, the staff smoked and blackened and turned to ash. As a lit
fuse, the destruction of the staff continued down its shaft. Eyes
wide, Malcolm froze.
    “ Drop the staff,” yelled
Jude, his breath steaming.
    Captain Marzdan dived into Malcolm and
pushed him aside. Malcolm fell clear but Marzdan landed atop the
decaying staff.
    The captain’s face froze
in terror and he screamed—a lingering wail of agony and anger that
no man there could forget for the rest of his days. Marzdan’s hair
went white, his skin paled and shriveled. In moments, the brave
soldier was no more than an ashen heap with the shape of a
man.
    Malcolm writhed in agony and clutched at his
left wrist; his left hand smoldered, flesh hung loose, white bone
tasted the air.
    “ Yes,” hissed the
messenger. It thrust back its arms and its head as if in ecstasy,
and then by some power born of hell, the creature grew–taller,
thicker, darker. “Ah, the sweet blood of kings. I must have more.”
Its eyes locked on Jude, boring into his very soul. It shambled
forward, toward Jude, ignoring all else.
    Jude backpedaled through the room, sword
held at the defensive. The knights and guardsmen fired crossbow
bolts at the thing and threw weapons at it from all sides, all