The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [70]
Rhep instinctively stooped to grab the falling belt. The elf seized a handful of hair and jerked the man's head down. At the same moment, he brought his knee up hard. The man's face smashed into the thigh greave that reinforced Elaith's travel leathers. Bone was no fit challenger for elven metal, and it gave way with a satisfying crunch.
Elaith flung the man aside. Rhep tripped and fell heavily back, clutching at a garishly broken nose. His sword clattered to the rocky ground.
The elf hooked a toe in the guard of Rhep's sword. One kick sent it spinning up. Elaith caught the descending blade easily and held it at arms' length for inspection. His lip curled as he regarded the pitted edge, then he stalked in.
"You drew first," he stated. "I defended myself as best I could." This remark he flavored with heavy irony-and punctuated with a vicious kick to the man's ribs. "You would have defeated me but for the fact that you tripped in the darkness and fell upon your own sword. A tragic tale, is it not? To think that you had the honor of hearing it first."
Rhep rolled blindly away. The elf aimed a final kick at the base of his spine and raised the crude weapon for the killing stroke.
A small, stubby hand seized his ankle and jerked him to a halt. Elaith released the sword and twisted, catlike, in an effort to retain his balance. He shifted his weight-and his furious gaze-back toward the direction of the interference.
The red-bearded dwarf whom Bronwyn had called Ebenezer clicked his tongue in reproach.
"Man's down," he pointed out. "Me, I like to see games played on an even field."
Elaith kicked out viciously, but the dwarf released him and danced back out of reach with surprising agility. The meddling little toad lifted Rhep's sword in mock challenge, then he handed the weapon to its owner.
"Set to, if that's what you've a mind to do," the dwarf continued. "I'm all for a bit of fun."
So, apparently, was Rhep. Using the sword like a cane, the mercenary rose unsteadily to his feet. His broken nose was beginning to swell, and his breath whistled wetly through the shattered protuberance, but there was livid hatred in his eyes, and that served to focus and steady him.
The elf pulled twin daggers from sheaths hidden beneath his leg greaves. He whirled toward the mangy pair, one knife coming in high and intended for Rhep, the other aimed at the dwarf's throat.
He heard the heavy thud of a dwarven body hitting the ground and sensed that Ebenezer was rolling toward him. He leaped over the thick, stubby body and leaned into the attack on Rhep, but the evasion had stolen his rhythm, and his stabbing attack on the mercenary fell short of its target. Rhep easily parried the elf's knife and then punched out hard over the enjoined blades.
Elaith leaned away from the blow, but it glanced off his shoulder and spun him to one side. The mercenary leered in triumph and lunged.
The pitted sword never came close. A dwarven axe spun in, knocking Rhep's sword wide. Man and elf turned to regard Ebenezer with astonishment.
"Play fair," the dwarf admonished as he scampered around the combatants to retrieve his weapon. "Looks like it's your turn, elf. Make it good, now!"
Elaith needed no prompting. Ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder, he stood and fought with a quick and ignominious finish in mind.
His opponent seemed equally determined. Rhep used his vast size to advantage, chopping and hewing at Elaith as if the elf were an oak he was determined to whittle into arrow shafts. For all his speed and skill, Elaith was forced to take the defensive. His twin blades flashed in the gray gleam of dawn, catching the first slanting rays of the morning sun. Neither fighter could seize advantage. The dwarf continued to intervene, first on one side then the other, keeping the balance level.
Suddenly Elaith knew the dwarf's game. Bronwyn was long gone-and her companion was making sure that Elaith was kept too busy to follow.
Rage swept