The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [123]
He found Rhep loitering behind an Ilzimmer-owned warehouse, shooting dice against the wall with a trio of Ilzimmer soldiers. Elaith lingered in the shadows long enough to take the measure of his foe. A woman clad in a tawdry scarlet gown leaned against a discarded barrel and watched the game, not apparently much concerned about the outcome of the men's wager. From the coarse comments the men made, Elaith discerned that she was to be the prize. The men had pooled their coin to pay her rent.
It would be convenient, Elaith mused, if Rhep won the wager. He could then follow the man to his afternoon's entertainment and deal with him in relative privacy.
Rhep's luck, however, was not good. A short, ginger-bearded man with a peg leg stumped off in triumph with the woman. His comrades threw a few more rounds for the sport of it, all the while discussing the likelihood of finding a tavern that would extend credit. The elf managed to catch Rhep's eye as they turned to leave.
The man stopped abruptly and made a show of patting himself down. "You lads go ahead. Seems like I lost my best dice," he improvised.
As soon as the men were out of earshot, Elaith stepped from the shadows. "Your nose is healing nicely," he commented. "It's a bit bigger and flatter than it used to be, but why quibble about a drop in a keg?"
Rhep scowled. "Hold your tongue, elf. I'd just as soon kill you quick, but keep it up and I'll be getting ugly."
"It's rather too late to be concerned about that, don't you think?"
The big man wrenched open the door to the warehouse and jerked his head toward the opening. "Inside. We settle this now."
Elaith bowed and extended one hand, indicating that the man should precede him. The soldier flushed a dull red at this reminder of his earlier treachery. He drew his sword and made a point of backing into the warehouse rather than turning his back to the elf.
Elaith silently applauded him. As insults went, it was a rather good one. Any claim that he was on the same level as this thug was base slander.
"Only one leaves this place," Rhep said.
"Agreed." The elf drew his sword and began to circle.
Rhep turned to keep the elf in front of him, but he waited for the first strike. Elaith obliged, delivering a high, lightning flash of an attack.
Before the mercenary could parry, Elaith spun, stepping past the man. As he did so the sword whistled just short of Rhep's ear. On the backstroke, he brought his sword low and slashed once across the seat of the man's leather breeches.
Rhep howled and whirled at the elf, lunging as he went, but Elaith was no longer there. The elf moved with his opponent, keeping just beyond the edge of his side vision. His next attack came in high, cutting a thin, shallow line across the man's cheek.
The elf danced back a step and gave Rhep a chance to face him down. The mercenary advanced with a furious onslaught of quick, hard blows. Elaith deftly parried each one with an economy of motion that was contemptuous in its ease. For a long time he was content to defend, one hand on his sword's hilt, the other resting lightly on his hip, his feet never moving. His faint, mocking smile never faltered. He intended to enjoy this.
At last Rhep backed away. They circled each other, swords held in low guard position, while the human caught his wind. With one hand he reached around behind his back to explore his first wound. His hand came back bloodied. He wiped the stain on his tunic and sent the elf a defiant sneer.
"Always heard elves favored attacking a man from behind, if you catch my drift."
Elaith let the crude comment pass. "Consider yourself lucky. I could have hamstrung you," he pointed out.
This notion stole the sneer from Rhep's face. His bravado vanished as he realized the truth of the elf's words and saw the battle could have been finished that quickly and that easily. His eyes were dark