Masquerades - Kate Novak [160]
The Night Masks, who for years had considered the watch a joke, were not about to surrender to them when the largest treasure they'd ever looted was nearly theirs.
The thieves charged first, with their weapons drawn. The front ranks of the watch knelt in a precision maneuver, leaving the second rank clear to toss out great capture nets. The kneeling first rank let loose a volley of crossbow bolts. Night Masks at the battle's front who were not dragged down by the heavy, weighted nets, were felled by the shower of missiles.
The Night Masters and the Faceless began moving toward the door hidden behind the tapestry. Winterhart leaped down from the table in front of them, blocking their escape. The Faceless and four of the Night Masters drew swords.
"I guess this is what you call a cue, isn't it?" Olive asked the actress.
Jamal nodded grimly. She pulled back the tapestry, and, with swords drawn, the pair burst onto the dais to back up Winterhart.
In the back of the hall, swordsmen of the watch maneuvered right and left on the thieves, and soon steel clashed against steel. There was a burst of light as some thief, equipped with a powerful amulet, teleported from the hall. Three thieves standing behind their fellows aimed wands at the watch. Blasts of eldritch energy issued from the wands, and five swordsmen were knocked back by an invisible rain of blows. A moment later, however, all three wand-armed thieves became pincushions of crossbow bolts-a warning to any other Night Masks that those using magic would be favored targets.
On the dais, those Night Masters not armed with long blades shrank back from the naked steel presented by the two halflings and the actress. The remaining four flanked the Faceless.
Winterhart squared off against the Faceless and one Night Master, Jamal against a second Night Master, and Olive against the remaining two. Winterhart dealt the Faceless an immediate blow to his sword hand with the flat of her blade, and her return sweep parried a blow from the Night Master who stood beside him. Faceless lost his grip on his weapon-the blade spun across the dais. The leader of the Night Masks was forced to retreat to retrieve his weapon.
Jamal remembered immediately why she'd given up adventuring twenty years ago. The thought of a sharpened steel blade slicing through her skin, her flesh, and her innards filled her with a nauseating fear. In his scornful offering of a sword, Kimbel had challenged one of her greatest fears. She wished desperately that she was wearing some kind of armor or carrying a shield, but she knew that in the shape she was in the weight of the armor would be too great and she needed both hands to keep the sword before her steady. The goddess of luck must have been looking out for her, though. The Night Master before her seemed to be neither an aggressive nor skilled fighter. Perhaps he'd drawn a blade only to impress the Faceless. Jamal held her own, parrying the blows the Night Master delivered. She even managed to draw first blood across his arm.
Olive was not feeling so fortunate. One of the two humans attacking her was a burly man, quite skilled with his weapon, while the other human was so tall that she had trouble keeping her sword high enough to parry his blows aimed at her head. She'd only just managed to ward off a stroke that might have decapitated her, but the cost was accepting a smack to the ribs. Her leather jerkin kept the blade from cutting into her, but the force of the blow knocked the air out of her and left her side throbbing. As if that weren't enough, it appeared as if the assassin Kimbel were about to join the two swordsmen in their attacks on the older halfling.
Kimbel placed his hands on the head of the taller Night Master facing Olive. An aura of ball lightning erupted from the thief's head.