The Yellow Silk - Don Bassingthwaite [59]
Tycho froze. On his left, Nico moved closer.
"Tycho!" At the bar, Laera stepped forward suddenly. Just as quickly, Ovel reached out and wrapped an arm around her, holding her back and snatching down her hood. Long brown hair tumbled free. Brin's eye widened slightly.
"Is that…?" His grin turned sharp and feral. "Tycho, you charmer! I think we've got another reason for you to behave yourself." He nodded and Ovel's arm tightened.
Laera stiffened, gasped, and screamed. Ovel's free hand reached under his cloak and drew out a short sword. Laera jerked, still screaming.
Tycho half-turned toward her.
Everyone moved at once.
Nico leaped at him. Tycho fell back, barely catching a flurry of action behind the bar as Muire snatched a hot mulling iron out of her brazier and thrust it hard into Ovel's back. Lander's man screeched louder than Laera and twisted away, his sword clattering from his hand to the floor. Tycho didn't have a chance to see more-Nico grabbed at him and he slid down to get away, staggering into Li as he did. The collision sent the Shou stumbling forward. Lander and Serg stepped in fast to seize him.
Except that Li's stumble somehow became instead a graceful lunge that put his fists hard into the thugs' guts. Lander grunted and staggered; Serg gasped and went reeling back, crashing into a couple of tables and sending ale flying.
Tycho would have stared in stunned awe if Nico hadn't reached down with both hands, grabbed the front of his coat, and dragged him to his feet. The bard seized the other man's forearms and slammed himself up and forward in a savage head butt that connected right under Nico's chin. His head snapped back. Tycho followed up with a fast knee to the crotch. Nico let go of him and dropped.
With Lander and his men suddenly in trouble, the crowd had found its courage as well. The Ease's patrons were surging to their feet, some diving to tackle Serg or Nico, some rushing to the aid of Muire and Laera. Ovel had found his feet again. He still had a grip on Laera as well, one hand tangled in her flowing hair. Keeping well below the level of the bar so that Muire couldn't reach him with her smoking iron, he was groping for his sword. Tycho caught a glimpse of his eyes as he saw the crowd coming at him. Any thought of threatening Laera forgotten, he let go of her and scrambled for his sword with both hands, only barely managing to grab it before the customers of the Ease could grab him. Twisting to his feet, Ovel swept the sword in short, dangerous arcs. "Keep back!" he snarled.
The crowd-Muire at the head now-pressed as close as it could.
Tycho whirled around. "Li, we've-"
A tremendous, squealing trumpet cut him off as Black Scratch plunged into the fray. In the cramped confines of the tavern, the boar couldn't exactly charge, but with his massive weight behind him, a lumbering rush was enough. People scrambled to get out of the way of his tusks and hooves; someone fell and was simply trampled. Tycho dived across a table for safety. He dragged a knife out of a sheath at his belt-as if the little blade would do any good-but Black Scratch was headed straight for one target.
Li stared at the oncoming mass of bristles and tusks for only an instant before gathering himself and leaping high, grabbing for a wax-encrusted iron chandelier overhead and tucking his legs up tight.
Black Scratch passed completely under him, his weight and hooves suddenly a hindrance on the tavern's worn wood floor. Out of control, the pig careened through a tangle of chairs and tables and straight into the solid stone side of the Ease's fireplace. He staggered back and sat down like a drunk man waking in a strange place. Li pumped his legs, swung free of the chandelier, and landed lightly in an easy crouch. Metal scraped on metal as he drew the butterfly swords, a blade in each hand, one high, one low.
More bare steel combined with Black Scratch's