Must be the entire garrison, Riverwind thought. Perhaps a hundred armed goblins lined the curved walls that faced the plaza. At the foot of the stairs, near Thouriss, the captain, Shanz, and six more draconians stood at attention. Of Krago there was no sign. Riverwind glanced left and right. No archers on the rooftops that he could see. So far, so bad, he thought grimly.
He halted where the stream flowed into the large triangular pool that dominated the plaza. The streams from the three waterfalls that ringed Xak Tsaroth converged here. Footbridges made of stout wooden planks spanned each of the three streams, though none of these creeks was more than waist deep. Perhaps the lizard men do not enjoy getting wet, Riverwind mused. He filed this thought away as his mind raced, trying to decide on a plan.
“We're waiting, barbarian!” Thouriss boomed.
“I don't want a spear in the back,” Riverwind retorted.
“I have ordered my warriors not to interfere with you.”
“Warriors? These?” Riverwind waved at the silent ranks of goblins. “All they are fit for is enslaving and murdering defenseless gully dwarves.”
“Bold talk coming from a warm-blood! Does the little one guard your back? Ho! Ho!” There were guffaws from the goblin soldiers. “He was dead once. Soon he will be twice dead. Come ahead and meet your own fate, barbarian!”
“Brud stay here,” the gully dwarf whispered behind Riverwind. “Goblins not strike. You hear what great master say.”
“Don't believe it. Thouriss would like it very much if we separated, then he could pick us off one at a time.” He felt a bump as the Aghar moved even closer to him.
Riverwind advanced across the eastern footbridge. Brud stayed close to his back. At the foot of the palace steps, Riverwind paused.
“Are my friends all right?” he asked. He gripped the mace's handle so tightly that his hand went numb.
“They are well. The old one got nicked by my guards. The fool tried to stave off my warriors barehanded,” Thouriss said with a sneer.
“I want to hear them speak.” He put a foot up on the first step.
Thouriss drew a gleaming two-handed sword. “Stand where you are, warm-blood.” Thouriss called out, and a draconian came running to his side. “Unstop their mouths,” he ordered. The lizard man unwound the gags from Di An's and Catchflea's mouths.
“Are you hurt, old man?” Riverwind called.
“Only a scratch,” Catchf lea replied hoarsely.
“And you, little one?”
“He means to kill you!” Di An cried.
“This is no secret,” Thouriss put in genially. He motioned to the draconian, and the gags were jammed back in. Raising his sword high, he slashed an “X” in the air. “Your name will be forgotten in the ranks of the many to fall to Thouriss the Conqueror.”
“Only if you plan to talk me to death,” Riverwind remarked coldly.
Thouriss laughed, a very unpleasant sound, like a hot iron plunging in cold water. “You have a mace in your hand. Do you know how to use it?” he asked.
“It's not my weapon of choice.”
“Shanz! Give the barbarian your blade!” The draconian clomped out of his place in the cordon. Brud cowered behind the tall plainsman, making himself as small as possible. Shanz handed Riverwind his straight sword, pommel first. Riverwind gave Shanz the mace.
“I have trained long against Shanz and the other Bozak,” Thouriss said, “but I haven't yet fought a human. I am curious to discover what it's like to kill one.”
“We haven't crossed blades and already you have me dead,” Riverwind said. “Why should I bother to be sport for you?”
“Did I not say?” Thouriss asked with exaggerated surprise. “If you acquit yourself well, I will spare the old human and the elf girl. Does the weapon suit you, barbarian?”
“A bit heavy, but it will do,” Riverwind replied. Outwardly, he seemed calm and controlled. Inside, he was seething with anger, fear, and anticipation. He had the beginnings of an idea, a way to beat the formidable commander-
His wool-gathering vanished with the first swing Thouriss made with his great sword. The two-handed blade cleaved the air toward Riverwind's skull. The plainsman backed off the steps and parried clumsily. Shanz's sword was a good deal heavier than his saber, but it looked like an actor's wooden blade compared to the monstrous weapon Thouriss wielded. Poor, terrified Brud threw himself flat on the lowest step and quivered.
The commander advanced down the palace steps two at a time. His muscles bulged and knotted beneath his scale-and-mail armor like the workings of some fantastic machine. With everyone's attention fixed on the fight, Brud leaped up and scampered up the steps of the palace. He ran right past Catchflea and vanished into the ruined interior. There was no blaming him. The old man wished he could disappear, too.
Riverwind dodged the strokes Thouriss aimed at his head.
“How am I doing?” Riverwind asked, trying not to gasp for air.
“Not badly.” Thouriss brought his point up from the resting position, an underhand cut at Riverwind's chest. The plainsman met the two-hander with the flat of his borrowed blade. The impact stung his hands, but he was grateful for the added weight of the draconian sword he wielded. He turned Thouriss's attack aside. Riverwind extended his arm full-length and lunged. Thouriss made a coup parry and backed up a step. His clawed heel caught on a slab of broken marble and he stumbled. Riverwind disengaged and slashed hard across the commander's chest. The sword tip scored a bright line along Thouriss's brilliant armor. The goblins shifted their feet and muttered, but a glance from Shanz silenced them. Riverwind withdrew a pace to catch his breath. Swinging Shanz's huge sword was tiring!
“Well played,” Thouriss said. “If it weren't for my armor, you'd have seen my blood.”
“I noticed you wear armor, while I wear only leather,” Riverwind panted.
“An even trade. The weight slows me down.”
One-handed, Thouriss whirled his sword over his head.
The glittering steel seemed to leave a shining trail in the air, so fast did the commander swing it. Riverwind ducked under the spinning blade. He lunged, only to have Thouriss beat aside his attack. He lunged again, steel sliding against steel. Thouriss's serpent eyes widened as Riverwind's sword came at his throat. He stepped into the lunge, hitting the plainsman's blade with his mailed hand. The point passed over his shoulder, and the warriors closed together. Thouriss opened his mouth in a hiss of angry frustration. His two-inch fangs glistened in Riverwind's face.
The ophidian backhanded Riverwind on the jaw. He staggered back, blood running on his chin from where the mail links tore his skin.
“Rahhh-ssssl” Thouriss howled. “Enough play! Now you die!”
Riverwind checked his location. His back was to the plaza pool. Just where he wanted to be.
Di An moaned through her gag. She looked to Catchflea. His eyes were shut and his jaw worked as if in speech. He must be praying to his gods, she thought, and added her own silent prayers to his.
Riverwind flexed his fingers around the sharkskin grip of his borrowed sword. Thouriss was screaming at him. For all his size, Thouriss was not an experienced duelist. Riverwind was counting on that.
Thouriss charged, sword held out in front of him in both hands. Riverwind stepped forward to meet him. They traded cuts and parries-one, two, one, two-until the commander flicked his wrist and hit Riverwind in the eye with the guard of his sword. Blinded, Riverwind stumbled back. He narrowly missed a killing stroke aimed at his blind side. Water lapped at his heels. He was on the very edge of the pool.
The vision in his left eye cleared enough to see a crosswise slash coming from that side. Riverwind blocked it awkwardly. The shock of blade on blade went up his arm. He felt something hot on his arm and saw Thouriss's keen edge had just laid open the skin on his forearm. Blood welled from the cut in rich red beads. The sight of his enemy's blood restored Thouriss's good cheer.