The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [135]
"And it succeeds," Danilo murmured under his breath.
He reached for his spell bag and called to hand the components for a slow-movement spell. To his dismay, the casting had no effect on the men circling him, but the falling leaves suddenly defied the brisk wind, dripping slowly through the sky like honey from a spoon.
The singing sword gave a ghastly croak and fell silent. Magic had, to all purposes, deserted him.
The man facing him sneered. "I seen rusty swords before. First time I ever heard one!" He lunged forward, his sword coming in high.
Danilo blocked. His sword groaned with the parry, a dismal sound that seemed to leech away his resolve. When the mercenary punched out, he could not move away in time. The heavy blow caught him below the ribs and knocked the wind from him, bending him nearly double.
From the corner of his eye, he saw another thug lunging in for his sword arm. He turned painfully, blocked, and riposted. All the while his sword whined, moaning and complaining.
A fiery streak flared across the surface of his mind like crimson lightning. His vision danced, and a heartbeat passed before he connected the flash of pain with the long rip in his left sleeve, the welling redness staining the emerald silk.
The man behind him kicked hard, catching him in the small of his back. He could not turn to defend himself. Nor would he, for another man was coming in, sword leveled for a lunging thrust.
Danilo blocked. He feinted low, then shifted his weight and lunged in high. His blade slid just wide of his opponent's parry, scoring a stinging cut on the man's cheek. Danilo felt a surge of satisfaction. The outcome of this seemed assured, but at least he would make some account of himself.
The next cut came from behind-a shallow, stinging jab to this shoulder. Dan whirled and thrust. His sword glanced off the man's belt buckle and sank in deep. He wrenched his blade free, shifted to his back foot, and parried an attack from another foe. At the same time, he kicked back and caught the third man on the side of the knee. The thug's leg buckled, and he stumbled, nearly falling.
The man caught himself and came in, his face a mask of fury. He leaped, his sword aimed for Danilo's heart. The first man, though, the one who had jeered at Danilo's sword, slashed out and knocked his comrade's blade aside.
"Not that," he snarled. He glanced at Dan and added, "Not yet."
Danilo suspected the last words were meant to cover a misstep. This attack was most likely not intended to be an execution but a warning. Still, he couldn't be sure.
He lifted his sword in guard position and faced down the three remaining men. The leader began to advance, and then froze in midstep. His eyes shifted down to his hand, and his puzzled gaze shifted from the sword that would no longer obey him to the broad, shining dagger tip that protruded from his beard..
Suddenly the dagger jerked to one side, and a crimson fountain exploded from the man's throat. He fell slowly, revealing the cold, amber gaze of the elf standing behind him. The man's comrades threw down their swords and ran.
Without pausing for thought, Danilo took off after them. Elaith swore and kicked into a run. "You are in no condition for this," he pointed out as he trotted along beside.
"Have to stop them," Dan gritted from between clenched teeth. "Have to know who ordered this."
The sound of fleeing hoofbeats resounded down the back streets, but Danilo did not slow. The elf hissed in exasperation. "You are depriving some village of an idiot, you know."
The rumble of a carriage caught the elf's attention. He glanced up as the conveyance ambled by and noted that it bore the guild sign and was driven by a halfling. Good. That made things easier.
Elaith leaped onto the running board. He reached up and pulled the driver from the box, sending him sprawling into the streets with a quick, careless toss. With the horses he showed a bit more care-he caught the nearest bridle and coaxed the team