Cursing that he had few spells prepared for a confrontation, the old man hustled back into his tower and gathered together a few items.
His only chance lay in speed, in darting about, never letting his enemies close on him. Even that tactic would only delay the inevitable.
He rushed to the left but had to stop and spin, sensing the pursuit coming from close behind. Backing them off with a sweeping cross of his blades, Josidiah turned and darted left again and, predictably, had to pull up short. This time, though, the elf not only stopped but backtracked, flipping one sword in his hand and stabbing it out behind him, deep into the belly of the closest pursuing ore.
His grim satisfaction at the deft maneuver couldn't hold, however, for even as the dead creature slid from his blade, even as the other few ores scrambled away down the side of the hill, Josidiah noted the approach of the three giants, fifteen-foot-tall behemoths calmly swinging spiked clubs the size of the elf s entire body.
Josidiah considered the spells remaining to him, tried to find some way to turn them to his advantage.
Nothing; he would have to fight this battle with swords only. And with three giants moving toward him in coordinated fashion, he did not like the odds.
He skittered right, out of the range of a club swipe, then went straight back, away from a second giant, trying to get at the first attacker before it could bring its heavy weapon to bear once more. He would indeed have had the strike, but the third giant cut him off and forced him into a diving roll to avoid a heavy smash.
I must get them to work against each other, the elf thought. To tangle their long limbs with each other.
He put his sword up high and screamed, charging straight for the closest brute, then dipped low, under the parrying club and dived into a forward roll. He came to his feet and ran on, right between the giant's widespread legs. Up thrust one sword, out to the side slashed the second, and Josidiah ran out from under the giant, meeting the attack of one of its companions with a double-bladed deflection, his swords accepting the hit of the club and turning it, barely, to the side and down.
Josidiah's arms were numbed from the sheer weight of the hit; he could not begin to counterattack. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the sudden rush of the third giant and knew his daring attack on the first had put him in a precarious position indeed. He scrambled out to the side, threw himself into yet another roll as he saw the club come up high.
But this giant was a smart one, and it held the strike as it closed another long, loping stride. Josidiah rolled right over a second time and a third, but he could not get out of range, not this time.
The giant roared. Up went the club, high and back over its head, and Josidiah started a sidelong scramble, but stopped, startled, as a huge black spear-a spear?-flew over him.
No, it was not a spear, the bladesinger realized, but a panther, the old mage's cat! She landed heavily on the giant's chest, claws grabbing a firm hold, maw snapping for the stunned monster's face. Back the behemoth stumbled, overbalanced, and down the giant went, the panther riding it all the way to the ground.
The cat was in too close for any strike, so the giant let go of its club and tried to grab at the thing. The panther's front claws held fast, though, while her back legs began a running rake, tearing through the giant's bearskin tunic and then through the giant's own skin.
Josidiah had no time to stop and ask how, or why, or anything else. He was back on his feet, another giant closing fast. The one he had hit shuffled to join in as well. Out to the side rushed the bladesinger, trying to keep one giant in front of the other, trying to fight them one at a time.
He ducked a lumbering swing, ducked again as the club rushed past from a vicious backhand, then hopped high, tucking his legs as the giant came swiping across a third time, this time predictably low. And getting the club so low meant that the giant was bending near to the ground. Josidiah landed in a run, charging forward, getting inside the range of the coming backhand, and sticking the monster, once, twice, right in the face.
It howled and fell away, and its companion shuffled in, one hand swinging the club, the other clutching its torn loins.
A sudden blast, a lightning stroke, off to the side of the hill, temporarily blinded both elf and giant, but Josidiah did not need his eyes to fight. He waded right in, striking hard.
The giant's hand closed on the cat, but the agile panther twisted about suddenly, biting hard, taking off three fingers, and the behemoth fostered no further thoughts of squeezing its foe. It merely shoved hard with its other hand, pushing the cat from its chest. The giant rolled about, grabbing for its club, knowing it must get to its feet before the cat came back in.
No chance of that; the panther hit the ground solidly, all four claws digging a firm hold, every muscle snapping taut to steal, to reverse the cat's momentum. Turf went flying as the panther pivoted and leapt, hitting the rising giant on the head, latching on, biting, and raking.
The behemoth wailed in agony and dropped its club again. It flailed at the cat with both arms and scored several heavy blows. But the panther would not let go, great fangs tearing deep holes in the behemoth's flesh, mighty claws erasing the features from the giant's face.
Josidiah came up square against his one opponent, the giant bleeding from several wounds, but far from finished. Its companion moved in beside it, shoulder to shoulder.
Then another form crested the hill, a hunched, human form, and the second giant turned to meet this newest enemy.
"It took you long enough to get here," the elf remarked sarcastically.
"Ores in the woods," Anders explained. "Pesky little rats."
The human had no apparent defenses in place, and so the giant waded right in, taking up its club in both hands. Anders paid it little heed, beginning a chant for another spell.
The club swished across, and Josidiah nearly cried out, thinking Anders was about to be batted a mile from the hilltop.
The giant might as well have hit the side of a stone mountain. The club slammed hard against Anders's shoulder and simply bounced off. Anders didn't even blink, never stopped his chanting.
"Oh, I do love that spell," the old mage remarked between syllables of his present casting.
"Stoneskin," Josidiah said dryly. "Do teach it to me."
"And this one, too," Anders added, laughing. He finished his present casting, throwing his arms down toward the ground at the giant's feet. Immediately, earth began flying wildly, as though a dozen giants with huge spades were digging furiously at the spot. When it ended, the giant was standing in a hole, its eyes even with those of the wizard.
"That's more fair," Anders remarked.
The giant howled and moved to raise its club, but found the hole too constricting for it to properly get the weapon up high. The wizard began yet another chant, holding his hand out toward the monster, pointing one finger right between the giant's eyes and bending the digit to show the giant a bejeweled ring.
With its weapon tangled in the tight quarters of the hole, the monster improvised, snapping its head forward and biting hard the wizard's extended hand.
Again, Anders hardly finished, and the giant groaned.oudly, one tooth shattered by the impact.
Anders thrust his hand forward, putting the ring barely an inch from the monster's open mouth and loosing the magic of his ring. Balls of lightning popped forth, into the Dpen mouth, lighting up the behemoth's head.
"Fa da!" said the old mage, bending his legs, more of a rartsy than a bow, and throwing his arms out wide, palms ap. as the giant slumped down into the hole.