Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

here with you. Whose bright idea was the butterfly nets?'
    'Mine,' said Cord proudly. 'We tried roping them at first, but that didn't work out too well.'
    'I just know I'm going to regret asking this, but why?'
    'Well, every time a guard lassoed one, the gargoyle just kept on running and dragged the guard after him.
    They're a lot heavier than they look, those gargoyles. We lost eight men to injuries that way.'
    'Damon . . .'
    'Then we tried trip wires, but the gargoyles have better night vision than we do, and in the excitement of the chase we kept forgetting where the wires were. We lost ten men - '
    'All right! I get the picture!' Taggert glared at Cord, who shrugged unhappily. She felt like sighing deeply again, but knew it would be wasted on Cord. 'All right, Damon. Call the men in. I've got an idea.'
    Cord raised his voice in a carrying shout, and the guards came back to join him in ones and twos. All of them were breathing hard, and some of them were limping. The gargoyles gathered together in little groups, and waited eagerly to see what new game the guards were going to come up with. Speaking calmly and quietly, Taggert got her men cooled down, and explained her plan to them. The guards brightened up, and went back to work with cautious enthusiasm. They split into groups and chose two chimneys set close together. They then stretched their nets across the gap and secured them tightly. The gargoyles watched frowningly, and muttered uneasily amongst themselves.
    Taggert gave Cord his instructions, and he brightened up as he discovered it involved using his precious mallet. He looked happily about him, and then set off at a run towards the nearest gargoyles, who scattered hastily before him. Cord might be heavy on his feet, but he could build up quite a bit of speed when he put his mind to it. If only through sheer momentum.
    The gargoyles took off in different directions, but Cord chose one and kept stubbornly after it. For a while, everyone else just stopped where they were and watched as Cord grimly pursued the gargoyle across the uneven roof, with his mallet poised and ready to strike. The gargoyle kept just a few feet ahead of him, ducking and dodging and plunging back and forth, and generally having too good a time tormenting Cord to realise it was being gradually shepherded towards the hidden nets. It ran full pelt between two chimneys and crashed onto the slates as the nets wrapped themselves around it. The watching gargoyles screamed with rage at such an underhanded trick. Taggert ignored them. The creatures weren't what you'd call bright, and had very short memories. It would take a fair bit of running, but the gargoyles were as good as caught. Luckily, she wouldn't have to do the running. That's what
    guards were for.
    Two of the guards dragged the trapped gargoyle away, and the others set about making more traps with the remaining nets. Cord leant against a chimneystack and had a quiet wheeze. Taggert nodded, satisfied.
    Maybe now she could get back to some real work. She frowned suddenly, and turned to Cord.
    'I thought Mother Donna was supposed to be up here with you. What happened to her?'
    Cord thought hard, trying to remember. 'She was called away. Some sort of emergency in the West Wing.'
    Taggert raised an eyebrow. The last she'd heard, the West Wing was perfectly quiet. As always. There was a sudden clattering behind her as Captain Doyle pulled himself up through the trapdoor and out on to the roof. He hurried over to her, and barely paused to salute before speaking.
    'You'd better come back down, Kate. All hell's broken loose in the West Wing.'
    'What is it?' said Taggert. 'A manifestation? A poltergeist? What?'
    Doyle swallowed hard. All his usual swagger and bravado were gone, and his face was deathly pale.
    'You're going to have to see this for yourself, Kate. It's bad. Very bad.'
    Taggert and Cord hurried after Doyle as he led them down the gloomy corridor on the way to the West Wing boundary. The air was close and muggy, weighed down by a stench of burning flesh. Water ran slowly down the corridor walls, as though they were sweating from the heat. The floor shook and trembled beneath their feet, as though something heavy was tramping back and forth in the distance. As they approached the boundary, Taggert tensed as she began to hear sounds coming from deep in the West Wing: screams and curses and animal howls. Doyle began to slow to a walk, and Taggert and Cord slowed with him.
    'How