The Paladins - James M. Ward [15]
"Let's go find another zombie," said Harloon, shocked by the lurid atmosphere.
"No, this is perfect!" answered Noph, grabbing Har-loon's breastplate without taking his eyes from the festivities. "We'll clean a few tables for the zombie servers and be gone in, say, five minutes-maybe ten."
"Noph, you're supposed to be following my lead."
"Look, Harl. Clearing a few tables doesn't get much safer. This time, you follow me."
"Well… okay. Let's just get this done with, shall we?"
They entered the tavern and blended with the crowd. The music pounded in a deafening beat, so Noph simply pointed at the nearest zombie, obliviously clearing a table. Harloon nodded. They each snatched a dirty rag out of the apron off of passing zombie and started wiping down the tables around them.
"Hey now, I never asked to have my table washed," a huge goblin complained, glaring up at Noph.
"Management's policy, great noble. And today you win a drink on the house. Enjoy!" Noph dropped a silver piece on the table, and the goblin showed a toothy grin. That would buy it several ales.
A dancer leaped from the bar to a table that Harloon was clearing and leered down at him as she swayed seductively. He stumbled away, modestly dropping his eyes, and backed into a table flanked by duergar, knocking over their ales. They leaped to their feet to avoid being soaked by the beer and then closed around the young fighter with furious snarls on their lips. Duergar at nearby tables spotted the commotion and rose to join their kin, surrounding Harloon. Their poisonous pikes gleamed in the candle light as they drew near to the human's face. Other creatures noted the rising tension and backed off, looking forward to the show. Seven duergar against one human-the fight wouldn't last long.
Suddenly, a fat purse hit the floor next to the duergar, spilling its coins amidst their feet.
"Hey, that's my money!" cried Noph in a high-pitched voice and the room erupted into chaos as the surrounding drinkers dove for the gold. Harloon shoved two of them aside in the tumult and wormed his way free of the pile of bodies.
"Thanks! Let's get out of here!" shouted Harloon.
"Wait!" answered Noph. "Grab that zombie before it walks into the middle of the fight!" he cried, doing the same for another mindless creature.
"That takes care of our service to the zombie!" said Harloon. "Now let's get out of here!"
Noph flipped a silver piece to a dancer as they left. "Thanks for everything!" he called over his shoulder. Outside, they bent over and rested their hands on their knees while catching their breaths. They looked at one another and Harloon shook his head, an exasperated grin on his face. Noph returned the smile, with an added chuckle. Each reached out and clasped the other's shoulder.
"Let's get back to the boat," said Harloon with a cock of his head toward the water.
"I'm with you. Let's go."
*****
Trandon had been terrified of the skulls that floated around the boat. His senses, more finely tuned to the rhythms of magic than the rest of the men, could see the deadly power. He also saw the shadow monsters floating above the water, around their boat, but he dared not say anything.
"Stupid youngling," he griped, blaming Noph for the delay.
The long-haired warrior quickly walked the narrow streets of the city until he was sure none of the others were anywhere near him. The undead of the city didn't bother him at all; necromantic magic was simple stuff. On the other hand, the magical powers openly displayed in the city disconcerted him gravely. Fiends sprouted out of arcane circles drawn on the very streets! Even more strangely, no one seemed to care! The fiends