Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [113]
"Apparently he's a slow learner," Danilo remarked.
Harvid Beornigarth's scowl deepened. He barked a command, and two more ruffians stepped out of the alley.
Danilo let out a long, slow whistle. "Five-to-two. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything?"
The half-elf merely shrugged. "Coward's odds."
Her insult swept away the last of Harvid Beornigarth's restraint. With a roar, he charged at her like a maddened bull, swinging his mace wildly. Arilyn nimbly dodged the swing, and the battle was on.
Fury gave speed and power to Harvid's mace. Cursing and roaring, he swung at the half-elf again and again. His slender opponent was forced into a defensive position, putting all her strength into dodging and blocking the onslaught.
As soon as she could, she cast a glance toward Danilo. The nobleman was not faring well. Harvid's four thugs had surrounded him; apparently Harvid had instructed them to leave Arilyn to him.
Dread chilled the half-elf. She knew that Danilo, although skilled in the ways of classic swordplay, could not hold off four streetwise fighters for long. She would have to come to his aid, and quickly.
Even as the thought was being formed in her mind, one of the men slipped through Danilo's guard. A blade glanced off the jeweled hilt of the nobleman's sword and cut a deep gash in his forearm. Danilo's sword fell from his hand with a clatter, and a bright stain of blood blossomed on the yellow silk of his shirt. One of the thugs grinned and kicked the fallen weapon out of reach.
A cold fury swept through Arilyn, and in an instant she transformed into an elven berserker. She broke free of her battle with Harvid Beornigarth and turned on Danilo's attackers. Her moonblade cut down the nearest man with gory efficiency. The half-elf hurled herself over the body, violently shoving Danilo into the small space between the twin oak trees. She whirled, placing herself between the three fighters and the unarmed and wounded nobleman. They advanced, and Arilyn's flashing sword caught the first rays of morning as she held off the three ruffians.
Abandoned by his quarry and cheated of battle, Harvid Beornigarth stood alone and unnoticed. His mace dangled at his side, and his jaw hung slack over both of his chins. He watched the fight for a long moment, a stupefied expression on his face. His one good eye narrowed, and he hefted his mace and moved in for the kill. It took but a moment for him to realize he could not get at the half-elf without knocking his own men out of the way. He wasn't averse to killing his men, if the situation demanded, but if he did so he'd have to face the elven berserker alone.
Damn the wench! Harvid sank down on a handy crate, sucking in a long, angry breath. Then his wits-such as they were-returned to him. He exhaled in a leisurely fashion and settled himself comfortably on the crate. He might as well sit back and enjoy the show. Truth be told, Harvid Beornigarth had little desire to join his men in the Realm of the Dead. Let the elf wench spend herself and her berserker rage on the destruction of his faithful army. All he cared about was seeing her killed. If his men couldn't manage the job, at least they could tire her out. Once again Harvid Beornigarth's hand rose to his eye patch, and he sat, biding his time.
Arilyn had no thought for the lout or his plans. All her will and strength was being poured into the fight with the three men. The odds usually would not trouble her, but she had slept little in the three nights since she'd come to Waterdeep. She was nearing exhaustion, and her sword arm felt as if it were moving through water.
One of the men brought his blade high overhead and sliced down at her. As she parried that attack another man made a low lunge for her unprotected body, his long knife leading. Arilyn kicked out viciously, catching the man's arm and sending the knife flying. The moonblade sliced cleanly across his throat.
The man's death cost Arilyn. One of the remaining thugs landed a blow on her right arm. The