Evening shadows were falling across the small plaza, and stalls and carts were closing. Incosee, Moon, and Patrick had just joined Gellor and Jokotai. The latter pair were munching on some confection purchased from ajust-closed booth, washing the honey and nut cake down with a crock of wine, which the Chakyik never seemed to be without. Where Curley and his satellites were, Gord didn't know, but he hoped that they'd arrive soon. The young thief wished to inform his friends of the situation quickly, so that they could be prepared for whatever might happen… and Gord was beginning to feel that something was going to transpire soon. He nonchalantly waved to his comrades as he strolled near. There was no doubt in his mind that Gellor had caught the flickering of his fingers and the set of his motion – signals that demanded immediate attention and conveyed warning.
"Successful shopping, Gord?" the one-eyed bard asked, but as he said this, his own hands were carefully querying Gord as to his concern. No one not in the group around him would have noticed such a signal, not even a skilled thief or Rhennee mountebank.
"Nothing doing," the young thief replied. "Where is Greenleaf and his trio of apprentice druids?" Gord flashed a warning that he was trailed by two or three experienced men as he casually conversed in vocal fashion.
Gellor tilted his head toward the town gate nearby. "Curley and his three associates went off about half an hour ago to find some herb or other. They are to meet us at the inn – let's off!" The one-eyed adventurer matched action to word, striding purposefully for the Brass Ball.
Gord understood this without benefit of any additional communication. If Curley and his inexperienced apprentices were caught somewhere outside the town by determined attackers, they could be in trouble. Jokotai, Incosee, and the two fighters hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary during the whole of the exchange between thief and bard; so the four simply followed after Gellor and Gord, assuming that their comrades were anxious to find the rest of their party and set plans for tomorrow's leavetaking. The group quickly covered the short distance to the place where the large, tarnished globe of brass marked their inn. Gellor was leading them on past the Brass Ball toward the gate, certainly planning to seek the druids wherever they might be beyond the portal, when the husky half-elf and his trailing novices appeared, passing through the heavy gates and heading toward the inn.
Greenleaf waved cheerily, and his friends stood waiting for the four druids to join them outside the hostel. While Patrick and Moon were discussing something quietly between themselves, and Incosee was likewise engaged in idle banner with Jokotai, Gord was alertly scanning the area for those men who had watched and followed him, and Gellor's posture and movements indicated that he too was on the lookout for trouble. It came almost immediately.
"Watch yourself, damned churls!" This was spat disdainfully from a well-dressed horseman exiting the stableyard of the inn. He had nearly ridden down Incosee, and as he cursed the dark warrior, he kicked his booted foot at the Chakyik next in line. There were five or six other horsemen behind the first, all coming at a trot now and drawing their swords.
"Silly shit," Jokotai said indifferently, levering the man from his mount by means of his own extended foot. The fellow crashed heavily to the paved roadway, stunned but still trying to unsheathe his longsword.
Gord and the rest scattered as the riders came up, blades flashing, trying their best to trample and hack the men before them. One managed to ride his own comrade down, just as the fallen man was regaining his feet and had his sword in hand. A horse flailed its hooves at Gord as its rider reined it back hard, slashing and wounding the Chakyik barbarian who had so rudely unseated his attacker.
Gord ducked under the animal before him, thumping its belly with a balled fist as he did so, then rolling and tumbling clear. The pain caused the horse to come down stiff-legged and buck. Its rear hooves lashed out and caught another of the mounted men on the leg. That rider yelled in agony and lost control of his mount, and soon all of the riders were milling in a confused knot, trying to regroup and resume their attack.
"These knaves need punishing!" one called, still keeping up the obvious pretense of offended gentleman at odds with surly common adventurers.
"To our Master!" cried a loud voice from the group of bystanders who had appeared as if by magic to view the melee.
Gord was virtually out of the confused scene by then, not even having drawn sword or dagger. He saw that there were a dozen or more armed men in the crowd. One he immediately recognized as being among the men who followed him earlier This whole affair was certainly well planned and orchestrated, even though the initial rush of horsemen had not had the effect that had been hoped for. More ruffian-types were congregating around Curley Greenleaf and his apprentices, while a larger force was intent on dealing with Gellor and the rest. The footmen claiming to be (he servants and retainers of their associates on horseback had produced weapons and were menacing the five adventurers, while the mounted attackers were readying to come at them from the other side. Gellor, Jokotai, Incosee, Moon, and Patrick had no place to go, caught as they were in the open area between the two forces. Neither group of foemen had yet noticed that there was one member missing from the party they were besetting.
Blades began to meet in ringing strokes. Gord had no time to worry about what was happening to Curley and his associates, realizing that unless he came to the aid of his five trapped friends, they would be in serious jeopardy. The opportunity was perfect, for Gord could fall upon the attackers from their rear and take them unawares, intent only on their supposed victims. He went into action immediately, striking low with a broad sweep of his shortsword, cutting the backs of the legs of two of the attackers, while plunging his long dagger into the unsuspecting back of a fellow about to smash Moon's head with his upraised morning star.
Just as he withdrew the poniard and dealt a finishing stroke with his sword, nearly severing the foeman's head with the blow, Gord saw the mercenary Blonk suddenly leap in among the horsemen, his longish spear playing havoc with men and horses alike. Stabbing with one end, clubbing with shaft and butt as if it were a quarterstaff, the rawboned fighter laid about him with a ferocity that momentarily impressed even as seasoned a combatant as Gord. The riders were confused and scattered by the attack, one crushed beneath his fallen stallion, another dripping blood from a long gash inflicted by the keen blade of the spear, a third trying to halt his stampeding mount, and the other two reeling atop panicked and bucking steeds.
Gord blocked a cut from a broad-bladed sword and riposted with a long lunge that skewered his adversary through the chest. Gellor and Incosee were fighting back now with confidence, not having to worry about their backs for the moment. Patrick and the bleeding Moon held one flank, while Jokotai was actually singlehandedly driving a bunch of attackers backward on the other. Gellor was engaged with a pair of hard-bitten opponents who were pressing him severely Gord wounded one of the pair so as to distract him sufficiently for his one-eyed friend to finish the deed and concentrate on the remaining opponent.
Of the original gang of ruffians who had beset them, at least a half-dozen were dead, as many sorely wounded, and most of the others bloodied to some extent. Being what they were, they broke and ran. Several more of the thugs died in the process, but the remainder made good their escape, leaving their dead and wounded to whatever fate befell them.