“The wound does not trouble you, I hope?” Thouriss hissed, panting just a bit.
“It's nothing,” Riverwind assured him. Blood ran down his arm, seeping into the gaps between his fingers. River-wind's throat was raw from breathing hard, and his heart throbbed. Strangely enough, he was calmer now. Thouriss was not the perfect fighting machine he appeared to be. Not yet.
The commander wasn't going for wounds any longer. He was closing for the kill. The sunken city echoed and rang with the sound of blade meeting blade. Gully dwarves came out of their hovels and listened. Even the stolid goblin soldiers shifted restlessly as the two enemies battled before them.
Thouriss wound up for a mighty overhand slash. River-wind was so exhausted that he could hardly bring the borrowed sword up to parry. Now's the time. He threw Shanz's sword point-first at Thouriss. The surprised commander altered his attack to bat away the flying weapon. When he did, Riverwind lowered his shoulder and ducked under Thouriss's sword arm. He grappled with the larger creature, wedging a leg between Thouriss's muscled knees and wrapping his arms around the commander's great torso.
Riverwind was a fine wrestler among his own people, but he had no illusions as to how long he could survive against Thouriss's brute strength. The commander howled again, this time with sardonic laughter.
“Embrace me then, warm-blood! I shall break you apart like a dead tree!” he exclaimed.
Gripping Thouriss was like hugging a statue, except this statue had a crushing grip of its own. Thouriss got a clawed hand around Riverwind's forehead and began to twist. The plainsman gasped and grunted, trying to throw his weight against the commander's tangled legs. Thouriss's hissing laugh filled his ears as his head was slowly twisted around.
Somewhere deep inside, Riverwind saw the face of Gold-moon. She had learned he was dead, and though she did not weep, all the sorrow of the world was in her face. He would not let that happen to her! His eyes flew open, and he saw Di An. The elf girl's face plainly showed her own horror.
Riverwind drove his elbow into the small of the commander's back, and Thouriss pitched forward. But he retained his grip on Riverwind's waist, and so both of them plunged into the plaza pool.
The combatants sank beneath the surface.
“Riverwind!” Di An screamed. She had worked her gag off. Catchflea opened his eyes. The water in the pool was always swirling from the currents in the streams that fed it, so there was no way for him to tell where the two had gone under. The goblin soldiers broke ranks and clustered around the pool. Shanz ordered them back to their places.
Thouriss was slow to react to being submerged, but when he did, he panicked. It was as Riverwind had thought: the five-month-old commander, conceived and nurtured by evil magic, could not yet swim. Riverwind had learned to swim nearly as soon as he had learned to walk.
Thouriss let go of the plainsman and tried to kick to the surface. Riverwind wrapped an arm around the commander's legs and held him down. Thouriss thrashed and pummeled Riverwind's back with his fists. His size and power were largely negated by his fear of drowning. He broke his hold on the plainsman and again tried to go up for air. Riverwind got on his back. So strong was Thouriss, that he was able to breach the surface with all of Riverwind's weight upon him. They reared out of the water, Thouriss roaring and gasping for air. Riverwind tightened his arm-lock around Thouriss's neck and dragged him under again.
They sank so deep the water was violet and dark. Jagged slabs of pavement jutted up, adding to the danger. Thouriss tried to impale Riverwind on just such a slab, but the plainsman braced his feet against the stone and pushed away from it. The pressure began to affect Riverwind. His chest, his ears, his head felt as if they were in a vise and someone was cranking it tighter and tighter…
“They've been under a long time,” Catchflea said. The old man had finally gotten his own gag off.
“Is Riverwind a good swimmer?” Di An asked tremulously.
“The finest in Que-Shu,” the old man avowed, though he actually had no idea.
The draconians muttered and mumbled among themselves. The goblins shifted on their feet and kept glancing at Shanz. The draconian captain went to the edge of the pool and gazed into the water. He couldn't see either fighter. He picked up the sword he had loaned Riverwind and returned it to his sheath.
“What shall we do, sir?” one of the draconians called out.
“Keep your places!” Shanz snapped. “It was the commander's order that we not interfere!”
“Thank the gods they obey orders,” Catchflea said in a low voice.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Di An wept in earnest, and Catchflea felt a lump growing in his throat as well. No one, human or reptile, could survive underwater so long.
Finally, Shanz approached. He drew his sword in such a fierce, swift fashion that Catchflea thought he was about to lose his head. Instead, the draconian cut the ropes holding him and Di An to the pillars.
“Are we free?” the soothsayer asked hopefully.
Shanz rammed his sword into its sheath. “I will take you to Master Krago. He will know what to do.” A guard of four draconians surrounded Catchflea and Di An and shoved them along to Krago's private sanctum. Di An kept looking at the pool. The waters continued their giddy swirl, revealing nothing of the fate of the warriors lost beneath their surface.
Krago was absorbed in an ancient scroll when Shanz brought the prisoners in. “What is it?” the young cleric asked. “Why have you brought them to me?”
“Master,” Shanz said, “I regret to say-I have to tell you-”
“What? Out with it.”
“Commander Thouriss is-missing.” Krago stood so abruptly he toppled his chair. Shanz spoke with obvious trepidation, choosing his words carefully. “He lured the tall barbarian into a duel by threatening the hostages. The barbarian fought well, until the end, when he threw away his sword and struggled hand to hand. They fell into the plaza pool and never came up.”
Krago's head sagged. He stared at his toes for a long time in silence. “Khisanth will not be pleased,” he said finally.
“Master Krago-” Shanz began.
“Hold a moment, Captain. Let me think.” He picked up the small scroll he was reading and then put it down again. He moved around the room dazedly, his eyes small and glittering. Finally, he sat down in one of his high-backed chairs. “Leave the prisoners with me,” he said blankly.
Shanz didn't like that, but orders were orders. He said, “What about Commander Thouriss?”
“Get some hooks and rope, then drag the pool,” Krago said. “Find Thouriss's body. I may be able to restore it to life. If not-” The cleric shook his head. “I shall have to grow a new male in the vat.”
Shanz posted four goblin guards outside Krago's door. When he was gone, Catchflea thanked the young cleric.
“You needn't bother,” Krago said coldly. “I have tasks for both of you. If you cause me the slightest trouble, I'll have you hamstrung. Is that clear to you?”
It was.
The cleric sank in his chair and shook his head. “It's all too much,” he groaned. “My creation destroyed, drowned like a rat!”
“You made him a warrior,” Catchflea said, gathering the grieving Di An to his side. “Did you think he would live forever?”
“Thouriss was much too valuable to die in a duel,” Krago replied testily. “Had he fathered sons and daughters, then I wouldn't care what happened to him.”
“Is that all you can think about?” Di An asked. She rubbed her eyes to clear them. “The trouble Thouriss's death makes for your grand design?”
“Yes. Nothing else matters.” Krago smoothed out the scroll on the table. “Nothing.”
Chapter Twenty-Two