Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [114]
Arilyn surreptitiously pulled a dagger from her boot and threw herself upright, using her momentum to drive the dagger hard under the ribs of one attacker. From the corner of her eye, she saw the other man swinging his sword toward her neck. She dove to one side, and the blade sliced harmlessly into the man she had just killed.
As she rolled aside she snatched up the moonblade, then came catlike to her feet. In three quick strokes she finished off her last attacker, and the fight was over. She could not see Danilo, so she assumed he'd escaped the square somehow. The courtyard of Jester's Square tilted crazily, and the half-elf rested her sword on the cobblestone, leaning heavily on it. Her wound was not serious, but her sleepless nights had taken a toll. She heard in the back of her mind the sweet, insistent call of oblivion…
The sound of slow, measured applause called her back.
"Quite a show," came Harvid Beornigarth's cynical observation. He hefted himself from the crate and strutted toward her, mace grasped in one beefy fist. Halting just outside the reach of her sword, he sneered, "Time to even the score."
Harvid lifted the mace high, swinging down with all his considerable strength. Arilyn rallied enough to bring the moonblade up to deflect the mace, but the impact of the blow drove her to her knees. A jolt of pain shot through her wounded arm and sent silver sparks through her field of vision. Resolutely she blinked aside the lights and the pain, in time to see Harvid, an evil grin splitting his face, raise the mace for a killing blow. She threw her remaining strength into rolling clear.
The dull clash of metal on wood echoed through the square. Arilyn looked up. Where she had stood just a moment before was a tall, dark-cloaked man. His stout staff had turned aside the descending mace. Harvid reeled back, astounded by the appearance of the tall fighter. Arilyn's rescuer advanced. He drove the end of his staff under the lout's too-short chain mail and deep into his belly. With a guttural noise Harvid bent double. The staff circled and came down hard on his neck. There was an audible cracking of bone, and Harvid Beornigarth dropped to the ground.
Arilyn struggled to her feet. Her first reaction was annoyance that someone would interfere in single combat. "I could have handled that myself," she snapped.
"You're welcome," came the cold response.
At that moment Danilo emerged from between the trees, looking dazed and clutching one hand to his head. In her surprise to see him, Arilyn turned away from the tall newcomer. "I thought you had run away."
"No. I was merely senseless. More so than usual, that is. Are you all right?" he asked, looking at her torn and bloodied sleeve with concern.
"A scratch. You?"
"Somewhat more than a scratch, but I think I'll live." The nobleman removed his hand from his forehead to display a large, bruised knot. "By the gods, Arilyn, you're more dangerous than those cutthroats! You didn't have to hurl me into the tree like that. If you wanted me to get out of your way, you just had to ask." He glanced up at Arilyn's rescuer. "Who's your friend?"
The tall man turned to face Arilyn, pushing back the deep cowl of his cloak as he did. He was older than his fighting prowess and his raven hair led one to believe, with a face that was deeply creased and weathered by the passing of years. Arilyn recognized him to be the stranger she had noticed in the House of Fine Spirits, the night that the Harper bard had been slain.
"Merciful Mystra," Danilo said softly. "It's Bran Skorlsun."
Before Arilyn could reply, a blinding flash of blue light engulfed her, and she was flung to the ground. Instinctively she threw up her arms to protect her eyes.
The sound of renewed battle rang along the street, but Arilyn had been temporarily blinded by the flash. She dug her fists into her eyes, trying