He reached under her shoulder to pull her up. Garth snapped his fingers and a cloud of green smoke concealed them.
He started to run and she struggled to keep up as they joined the edge of the mob, which was now running in every direction, shrieking in terror as dozens of uncontrolled spells swept across the square, the brawl now completely out of control, with fighters simply conjuring and tossing out their denizens to strike at whatever was nearest. Undead moved with shambling steps, several of them holding shrieking citizens of the town aloft in their gray-green hands as trophies. Great serpents, half a dozen fathoms in length and as thick as a man’s waist, darted about, looking for someone to bite, several of them wrestling with their victims, one of them already swallowing a still-kicking form. The usual skeletons walked with clattering motions, looking for human flesh to sink their white bony fingers into. Off to one side the two bears were finished with their repast and started to run across the square, looking for another meal. Garth waved his hand, causing them to fall in by his side.
Cursing and shoving, fighters belonging to the Grand Master hit the edge of the fight, some of them turning to take care of the various creatures pursuing the fleeing crowd. One of the fighters turned toward Garth and he released the bears and continued on. Seconds later he heard the shrieks of the fighter who had tried to stop him.
“Master!”
Garth looked over his shoulder and stopped as Hammen shuffled toward him.
The Plaza was chaos, more than forty fighters from each House trading it out in front of Brown’s House, the spider, now minus several legs, scrambling about crookedly, holding a writhing Kesthan fighter in its pincer fangs, another struggling form, cocooned in silk, strapped to its back. An explosion erupted atop Bolk’s House, tearing off part of the facade, sending a shower of stones into a side street while fires licked from half a dozen buildings farther up the alleyway. The Great Plaza was a sea of confusion as thousands tried to flee while thousands more pushed eagerly forward to watch the fun.
Hammen reached Garth’s side and pulled a satchel out from his tunic.
“Where’d you get that?” Garth asked.
“Oh, it belonged to that big chap whom you taught to sing soprano.”
Garth spared a quick look inside at the amulets. It was a fabulous haul even if it wasn’t quite legal.
“I think we should move out of here,” Garth announced, watching as a phalanx of warriors came forward at the run, their crossbows raised. The first line of warriors spread out and started to lob shots at the spider, which merely seemed to enrage the creature even more, so that it turned and started to charge toward them, tossing the Gray fighter aside.
The warriors of the Grand Master who had fired hurriedly placed the front of their weapons on the ground, hooking their feet into the stirrup of the crossbow while they struggled with both hands to cock their weapons. The rest of the phalanx now fired as well, and yet the spider still staggered forward. The reloading crossbow men, to a man, abandoned their efforts and, turning, fled. The phalanx scattered in every direction, Garth, Hammen, and Norreen darting out of the enraged spider’s path.
The spider slashed out with its clawed forelegs, knocking men down, crushing them underfoot, and continued to spread its poison, which bubbled and hissed as it struck pavement, metal, leather, and flesh.
Several horsemen came galloping through the crowd, knocking fleeting citizens and crossbow men aside. Directly behind them was a wagon, the driver lashing the team. The driver pulled in hard on his reins, causing the wagon to skid around to a stop. On the back of the wagon a heavy ballista was mounted, manned by a dwarf firing crew, the weapon already cocked. The head gunner peered down the length of the shaft, shouting at his two assistants to wedge the elevation up higher. The spider, seeing the wagon, started toward it. The team of horses shrieked with fright, the driver standing up and hauling in on the reins, struggling to keep the horses from bolting.
The ballista seemed almost to leap into the air as the gunner pulled the lanyard, the heavy bolt shrieking as it rocketed across the Plaza and slammed into the spider.
The stricken beast reared up, a loud cry of pain echoing from it, greenish blood pouring out of its wound as it tumbled over, its legs twitching spasmodically. The cocooned warrior who had been strapped to its back twisted and writhed beside his captor, looking like a great maggot.
“I think the fun’s over,” Garth said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here.”
He darted into the swirling mob, still holding Norreen up. She struggled to free herself and he finally let go.
“Just what in the name of all that’s holy were you doing back there?” she snapped angrily.
“Helping,” Garth said quietly, even as he continued to push her forward. Behind them the crowd roared as an explosion rocked the Great Plaza, followed by the crystalline tinkling of glass shattering from dozens of buildings.
“You weren’t there to help me,” she snarled. “You were out after something else and you got it.”
Garth slowed and looked at her.
“I was there to help you,” he said calmly, “and things got out of hand.”
“Don’t play the game with me; you wanted that fight.”
Garth said nothing and continued on.
“I still don’t have my honor back from them,” she snapped.
Garth looked over at Hammen.
“How much did we make?”
“We’ve got thirteen gold now,” he chortled gleefully. “It was fifteen to one with Naru.”
“Let me see.”
Hammen, struggling to keep pace with Garth, reluctantly pulled out the coins and handed them up.
Garth turned and offered them to Norreen.
She slapped his hand away, the coins spilling to the pavement. With a loud cry of dismay Hammen scurried about, picking them up, pulling out his dagger and screaming when an urchin snapped one of the rolling coins up and disappeared into the crowd that was swirling about them.
“Money is meaningless; it is honor I was after.”
“You still have to eat,” Garth snapped hotly, and snatching a coin from Hammen, he forced a gold coin into her palm.
“That will keep you till after Festival. You’re now known throughout the city for having the courage to challenge Bolk. People will remember the whole thing started with a Benalish Hero. Just avoid the Grand Master’s people; they’ll be out after you.”
She looked at him coldly and started to raise her fist as if to throw the coin back.
“You have to eat,” he said quietly and then, turning, strode away.
“He’s mad,” Hammen said, shaking his head as he looked up at Norreen.
“He’s a bastard,” she said softly in reply, a look of confusion in her eyes and then, turning, she disappeared into the crowd.
Hammen scurried to keep up with Garth, ducking low when another explosion erupted, sending debris soaring a hundred or more feet up into the air. The Plaza echoed with explosions and the sharp call of trumpets. From out of the main gate of the Grand Master’s palace another column of warriors emerged, running full out, swords and crossbows at the ready. Behind them came a dozen more fighters, the strength of their mana evident so that they appeared to glow, spreading spells of protection over themselves and the warriors. In the middle of the column rode the Grand Master. His face was a mask of fury and for a moment he turned his attention toward Garth, who froze in his steps.
Hammen watched him, sensed that somehow Garth, for an instant, did not really appear to be present, as if he had gone shadowy and opaque, like a drawing on smoked glass. The Grand Master stared straight at him for several seconds. Another explosion rocked the far end of the Plaza and the Grand Master stirred, as if awakening from a dream. He turned away, shaking his head as if confused, and rode on toward the widening brawl. Garth was present once more, still walking purposefully.