Sunbright had no quarrel with these orcs or anyone else. He wanted only to rest a moment and drink water until he floated. An afternoon in dragon smoke and now a city afire had scorched his throat so badly his tongue felt swollen. Certainly he'd had enough fighting to last a lifetime. But if he hoped to get any older, he had to defend himself. He hoisted Harvester, though the sword seemed as heavy as a dozen crowbars, in arms, that sagged like lead.
The orc captain charged and slashed overhand, anger and fanaticism lending it strength. Two-handed, Sunbright parried cross-body in automatic defense, and kicked for the orc's knees barbarian-style with his heavy boots. But the knotty-armed orc leaped above the kicks, banging again and again on the barbarian's sword blade. Finally, timing the blows, Sunbright simply stepped out of the way. When the orc blundered past, he'd cut it across the kidneys or neck, following with a chop to the back of its leg to sever an artery and end this fight.
But he snapped alert and learned why the orc was a captain. The creature had been anticipating the sidestep and plunged past the end of Harvester, but abruptly stamped to a halt and threw its shoulder into Sunbright. Bulling the barbarian forward and sideways, the orc swung its sword in a short, vicious arc to slash at the human's kidneys.
For lack of a better defense, Sunbright shot out his legs and landed square on his butt, jarring his spine to the top of his skull. But the orc's slash passed overhead, just ticking the human's topknot.
Flopping onto his back, the barbarian thrust overhand and overhead. Harvester's fat tip slid into the ore's side and guts, then under its rib cage and nicked its heart. Twisting to sink the hook and enlarge the wound, Sunbright yanked back and brought a red rain onto his head and arms. The orc collapsed like a pricked balloon.
Keeping clear of the stricken orc-even dying warriors could strike back-the barbarian levered himself to his feet, spit blood off his lips, and automatically cast about for his comrades.
Greenwillow was fencing with another orc that already bled from several wounds. Snarling, the creature curled gray lips and lunged again, slashing mightily with its sword. But it was careful to keep the sword before it as a whirling shield. Greenwillow shuffled, ducked, aimed, stabbed, and whipped her hand back, then repeated the pattern, so the orc now bled from four spots on its forearms. A few more such surgical pinks, Sunbright knew, and the orc would be too tired to fight or else hamstrung. Then it would feel steel in its throat.
And Ruellana?
Again she surprised him, for she was fighting magnificently, dancing death around the orc. This was a monster, the biggest of the lot, but Ruellana laughed as she skipped.
As the orc slashed, like a man swatting a bumblebee, Ruellana trilled a snatch of song and her hand flickered. The bright tip of her blade sliced the orc's pug nose sideways below the bridge. So sharp was the blade the beast-man barely felt it, but blood ran down its lips and fangs. It jumped and slashed again, but its sword struck stone, for Ruellana had danced away.
The next time she pricked the orc in the buttocks through his black tunic. As it turned in outrage, she sliced its ear almost through, so the gray point dangled by a flap of skin and flopped against its neck. Ruellana pouted at her misstroke, skipped dangerously close, and whisked the ear off. As the beast roared, she sliced again, downward, so the orc's nose was split vertically into four even chunks.
Tired and disgusted, Sunbright felt his stomach churn. He'd seen battle and killing, knew it was often a necessity, but Ruellana was enjoying this tremendously. She was killing the orc a piece at a time, slicing it like a ham for a feast. The barbarian shouted for her to stop, to dispatch the orc quickly, but a merry trill was her only response. Tripping in close, Ruellana jabbed and split the orc's eye. Roaring and leaking blood, the creature hacked a fast, hard circle in which to trap Ruellana. She laughed, teasing, and drew the orc's attention. As it whirled to squint, one-eyed, at her, she poked the other eye.
Magic, Sunbright thought. She had to be using magic to move so lithely, so fluidly, anticipating her enemy's every blow. But then, he'd known she possessed magic, he'd just avoided dwelling on it.
Sickened, the barbarian turned away, so he didn't see Ruellana level her blade so that the orc might charge onto it. The beast's throat split and gushed blood, but she only hopped far enough back to avoid the spray. She'd deliberately withheld the death blow. As the orc dropped to hands and knees, Ruellana leaned in. Chuckling, she pricked the orc's back and neck a dozen times before it collapsed and died.
Sunbright stood with Greenwillow, who'd ended her opponent's life neatly and cleanly. The pair watched Ruellana rake back her red hair and laugh as if at a party. The observers shivered as she waved her bloody sword toward the city gates.
Distracted as he was by the cruelty revealed in his former lover, Sunbright nevertheless managed to observe the streets and the sky at the same time. Any moment they might blunder into more orcs or even blood-crazed citizens not ripe for listening. Still back at the palace, he hoped, was Wrathburn. The dragon had come for the crown, and to scotch the king. He had lost the crown, which had been melted to slag by his own fire, but had removed the king from the face of the land. The question now was, would that satisfy the dragon's temper, or would he seek to level the city that had harbored the king? If so, the place to be was elsewhere, for there was no way to stop the monster.
And too, Wrathburn had told Sunbright to stay put so they might both return to the cave, where the barbarian would be lifelong bard to sing the praises of Wrathburn the All-High.
But as if in answer, Ruellana called out and pointed up. Through smoke and haze, they saw a slender shape beat stubby wings as Wrathburn thrashed homeward. "He's had enough," Sunbright breathed. "And he must have forgotten all about me. The raven said he wasn't too bright."
Half a mile down the road, away from the smoke and noise, having slaked their thirst and mopped off soot and sweat at a creek, the three studied the sky and debated how long to walk before sunset, which was not far off. Sunbright reflected to himself how just this morning he'd walked into a dragon's cave. It felt good to be haggling over a camping spot and thinking about shaving a bow and fletching arrows, so he might shoot game on the trek to Dalekeva. And they'd have to watch for orcish patrols, lest the creatures hadn't heard their master was dead-or if they had, and reverted to their old habits of loot and rape.
Man and elf walked ahead on the narrow road, Ruellana trailing behind them. She sang gaily, a lengthy epic of love and sorrow and loss and more love, a tune designed to entertain a court on long winter nights. Sunbright walked beside Greenwillow, studying her surreptitiously.
What now? he wondered. He had his comrade-in-arms and his sometime-lover both on his hands. Greenwillow, he hoped, cared for him deeply. But her heart had been wounded when he'd run off to pursue the phantom Ruellana. Yet how much love could there be between human and elf?
And who-what-was Ruellana? Definitely not a simple country girl, not quite a succubus either, but definitely a bloodthirsty bitch when aroused. Little chance of long-term romance there. For all her exotic, cool facade, Greenwillow was the more uncomplicated of the two, while Ruellana, who pretended innocence, was some complex creation he couldn't begin to comprehend. But she smoldered sexually and loved as hard as she laughed and fought, which counted for a lot when his groin and his heart warred. Still, Greenwillow's lithe form would fit well under his hands…