Free The Swords of Corium by B. V. Larson

planks with wild speed. Gruum hopped away, lest he be snared by the looping chains at his feet. The lich, however, caught up in the ecstasy of a hundred fresh souls, did not notice his peril.
    The chain soon snapped taut, and one loop snagged on the spurs of the giant ankle of bone. The lich, still hugging to the struggling King, was dragged off his feet and pulled toward the rails. They caught there, upon the railing. Vosh, lying on his spine, worked his jaws with laughter and seeming drunkenness. Every soul that passed its power from Therian to Vosh seemed to unhinge the lich’s mind further.
    Therian saw the way of things. He was caught against the railing, and the lich would not let him go. He reached out with Succor and hacked at the wooden rails. The wood splintered and white interior showed beneath the darkly-weathered surface.
    Such was the strength of the blade that it did not snap. Such was the strength of the sorcerer that the wood was hacked through. A moment later, both Vosh and Therian were sucked over the side to fall into the sea, following the loose anchor to the bottom.
    Gruum rushed to the side of the ship and looked down, expecting to see only a few bubbles and the last links of black chain. Instead, he saw the lich’s skull leering up at him. The lich clung to the hull with his last fingers.
    “What a tricksy little man you are,” Vosh said to him.
    “Give me back my master, and I’ll haul you back upon the deck,” Gruum said.
    “In this case, there is no need for either of us to strike a bargain, barbarian. Your King heads to the bottom wrapped in your chains, and I have no need of regaining this deck. I am strong enough now for what must be done.”
    The lich released his hold upon the carrack’s hull and let himself slide down into the sea. The gigantic skull was the last thing Gruum saw as Vosh vanished into the depths.

-16-

    Gruum turned to meet the staring eyes of the surviving Hyboreans. They were gaunt, haunted of mind, and disbelieving of their fate.
    “I suppose I’m in command now,” Gruum said, running his eyes over what was now his crew. “Let’s cut the brig free and take this carrack back to battle.”
    “The battle is over, bodyguard,” said a cadet. He stood in battered armor of black and red. A great dent creased the breastplate, but had not brought him down. He was the last cadet among them.
    Gruum turned and gazed out at the ships around. Half the arks were missing; a sixth was listing badly and on fire. But the enemy ships were in a worse state. Most had vanished, sunken or fled. A few floated here and there, rolled over with their keels up in the sun or burning brightly. Men howled upon the waters, dying in the cold.
    “There are still enemy troops on the ice in front of your gates, even if their fleet is broken,” Gruum said. “Make ready to sail the carrack, we will tow the brig back to Corium.”
    The crewmen worked to disentangle the two ships and cast a line to secure the brig as Gruum had commanded. Gruum walked to the edge of the carrack’s deck, where the railing was split and gone. He looked down into the sea, peering as deeply as he was able. He frowned into the dark water. Should he leave well enough alone? He had thought, from time to time, of slaying the sorcerer himself. Was the world not a better place with Vosh and Therian both removed from it?
    Gruum thought about a time when he had sunk into the sea. It had been Therian’s hand, he recalled, that had come down to rescue him. He took in a deep breath and shouted for the last surviving cadet.
    “Bring me a sounding cord and a weight,” he told the man.
    The other stared at him. “The seas here are a hundred yards deep at least, sir. We cannot run aground.”
    “I don’t care about geography, bring me the cord!”
    Glaring, the cadet did as he was instructed. Gruum reeled it out, deeper and deeper into the roiling waters. He tied the cord to the rail and waited.
    The men soon came and told