Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [59]
The next guard charged forward to discover the same mistake only too late, but at least he had bought the ground needed for the following guards to surge out of the doorway.
Pierce rolled over in his canopy bed and pulled a pillow over his ears. "What's all the damn racket for?" he muttered, only half-awake. A draft from his door opening caused him to look up with bleery eyes and be blinded by a figure with a lantern.
Correction, make that Marque Draque and that annoying fire faerie Pierce's foresight predicted and he started to get a vague idea of what was wrong.
"Get up!" shouted Draque, shooing the faerie away with a hand. "Chev's on a rampage! This may be a chance to stop him if we can contain him until more Harpers get here!" The elf ran back out through the door with the faerie in flying pursuit.
Pierce sat up in his bed and looked at his bed head in the mirror on the wall opposite the door. "Couldn't Chev have at least waited until I've combed my hair?" he grumbled and crawled into his armour.
Dropping the short sword, Chev favoured the bull whip at his belt as he backed down the hallway, fending off six warriors at a time. With a little sleight of wrist he lashed the whip around a man's neck and pulled him forward to be impaled on Chev's thrusting sword. Loosening the whip, the warrior fended off more swings while preparing the whip for another deadly lash.
When it came Chev went for a leg, and the man screamed as he was pulled forward and killed with a clean thrust. A guard off the side charged forward in the same moment, seeking a chance to flank the warrior. He was met with a kick to the face which was quickly followed up with a slash to the throat.
A charismatic guard near the stairwell was trying to rally the men to charge and overwhelm the warrior, but was not getting much support after Chev's display of battle prowess. Pushing through the ranks, the self-proclaimed leader shouted for the men to backoff so that he could take on Chev one on one. They did so with cautious looks at Chev.
Chev smiled at the advancing warrior and made pretense of raising his blade in defense. He could see the sweat on the man's brow and the white knuckles on his hands. His eyes flickered and he opened his mouth to order his men to charge. A blur of steel later and Chev slid his sword tip out of the leader's gaping mouth and wiped the gore on the man's cheeks with a quick one-two slap.
The guard fell down face first on the ground and for a moment the only sounds in the corridor were the groans of those lucky enough to have only been crippled. The warrior backed away from the stunned guards and slapped his sword against his buttocks as he taunted them.
The guards in the rear of the group suddenly decided that it was their turn to go for help. The guards closest to Chev glanced at each other nervously, each wanting someone else to make the first move and die. Someone in the rear coughed loudly.
Toril's greatest warrior stood before the cowering guards and pawed the ground with the toe of his boot. "Next?" he asked with a wry smile.
"I'll take that challenge," said a calm voice from behind Chev. The warrior glanced over his shoulder and down the poorly lit corridor. Into the light strode a tall, broad figure dressed in tell-tale bronze armour.
"Good to see there's actually someone around here still worth fighting," Chev replied and put his back against the wall so he could keep one eye on the guards and another on Doctor Pierce. He looped his whip and tied it with one hand to his belt. Stooping, he picked up the dropped short sword and held it upside-down like an assassin. "Shall we test your mettle one more?"
"How about we test just how much that magical