Shanhaevel shoved one of the chairs toward Kobort and jumped away, desperately hoping the move would catch the thug off guard and buy him a second or two for a spell. He shouted a word of enchantment, aiming a finger at Kobort as the man kicked the chair away and came at the elf again. A bright flash of light, followed almost instantly by a second, darted forth from the tip of the elf’s finger and streaked across the distance, slamming into the thug’s chest.
Kobort gasped and fell back, dropping his sword and clutching his chest, which was smoking slightly. He stumbled and tripped over a crate, pitching down behind it.
Shanhaevel spied Elmo’s axe lying on the floor and seized it. The heavy weapon felt awkward in his hands. He had often chopped wood for himself and Lanithaine, but this was a far different weapon—a much shorter haft and a wicked double head easily as large as his chest—and it was abominably heavy to the elf.
Steeling his courage, Shanhaevel closed the distance between himself and Kobort, the weapon in hand. The man was trying to rise to his knees. Shanhaevel lifted the axe as high as he could then brought the huge blade down hard on the back of the man’s head. There was a sickening crunch and a spray of blood, and Kobort collapsed to the floor. He did not rise again. Shanhaevel gave a shuddering sigh and surveyed the rest of the battle.
Elmo was about to be cornered by Zert and another bandit, each of them holding him at bay with spears. The huge axeman had a crossbow bolt protruding from his thigh, and he staggered as he backed away, dodging the spear thrusts. Cursing, Shanhaevel ran forward, shouting. The two men turned to see what the ruckus was, and when they saw the elf running at them, axe in hand, they turned to receive his charge.
Perfect, Shanhaevel thought. He stopped dead in his tracks, dropped to one knee, and sent the axe sliding across the floor between the two bandits toward Elmo. In a single smooth motion, Elmo scooped the weapon up, even as Zert and his companion watched the axe slide by them. By the time they realized their opponent was now armed, it was too late.
Elmo slammed one blade of the axe into the chest of the bandit in a swift swing, knocking him off his feet and back two full paces, then turned to face Zert, who retreated a step, horrified. Before the thug could flee, Elmo caught him squarely in the hip. Zert screamed as he fell, and Elmo wasted no time closing in to finish him off. Shanhaevel stepped away from that fight and took stock of the rest of the company.
Amazingly, most of the ambush force was down. Shirral—her shoulder soaked in blood—Ahleage, and Draga were fighting with Lareth now. Without hesitating, Shanhaevel cast again, summoning two more of the magical missiles he had used against Kobort. Unerringly, the glowing green streaks of light shot across the room and hit Lareth squarely in the chest. The priest grunted and stumbled back a step, and Draga took advantage of the magical distraction to cut the man hard across the shoulder.
Lareth growled in pain and fury and knocked Draga away with his staff. Shirral darted forward, swinging her blade of flame at the priest’s head. Lareth ignored the blow as it connected and rammed his staff into the druid’s midsection. Shirral collapsed with a groan, but before Lareth could step forward to finish her, Ahleage was behind him, ramming his dagger into the small of the man’s back.
Howling in agony, Lareth spun away, swinging his mace to fend off further blows. Ahleage had to roll away from the attack to avoid getting his skull bashed in.
Breathing heavily and with blood flowing from several wounds, Lareth backed away from Draga and surveyed his failed ambush.
“Finish them!” the priest growled, then gestured, and was engulfed in a cloud of palpable darkness.
“Bastard!” Ahleage shouted as he leaped into the magical blackness.
Shanhaevel hesitated, knowing it would be dangerous to join Ahleage in a blind fight. He’d likely plant a dagger in my ribs, thinking I was Lareth, the wizard thought, and he turned back to survey the room once more.
The only foe still standing was Turuko, who was now facing Elmo. The huge man was charging the Bakluni, bloody axe held high. Elmo brought his weapon down, but Turuko was faster. As Elmo swung, the Bakluni leaped into the air, topknot streaming out behind him as he dodged the swipe of the blade and kicked out with his foot, catching Elmo in the shoulder. The kick was hard enough to send the huge man sprawling to the floor.
Shanhaevel sucked air in through his teeth, amazed and dismayed, for he realized that Turuko must be a member of the Scarlet Brotherhood, a fabled order of fighting monks.
Here? the elf wondered even as he and his companions fanned out, ready to do battle. The Scarlet Brotherhood in league with the temple? Their battle prowess was legendary. Turuko would be deadly, even without weapons. Dismissing the thought for now, the wizard waited for an opportunity to attack.
Draga closed with the monk first, his sword in his hand. Shanhaevel grimaced and relaxed his grip on his staff, moving in to aid Draga. Elmo stood again, growling in fury, and brought his axe up once more, advancing.
Turuko moved as a whirlwind, surrounded by the three of them, his hands and feet moving like snakes. Shanhaevel tried to follow the Bakluni’s movements, but Turuko was too fast.
The monk paused in his motions and smiled. “Yes, worthy adversaries, indeed. I had not expected—” he cut himself off, laughing in a placating manner. “But that is the first rule of combat, is it not? Never underestimate your adversary. Well, I shall not make that mistake again. Come, let’s finish this.”
He whirled around, leaping through martial forms, one after another—kicks and punches, graceful and lithe—demonstrating conservation of energy and motion. With each successive form, he landed facing a different opponent, ready to strike anyone and everyone who faced him.
Elmo was the first to lunge in, swinging his axe in a wide arc before him. Turuko dodged the attack and spun around, kicking Draga in his midsection before the bowman knew what had hit him. Draga grunted, stumbling back a step, but then he darted in again, jabbing his sword at Turuko while the monk was turned to face Shanhaevel. The monk dodged both attacks and sent a kick in Elmo’s direction that barely missed the huge man’s head. Elmo swung his axe again, but Shanhaevel saw that the big man was having a difficult time using the large weapon with his wounded leg and so many of his companions about.
“Bring your best!” crowed Turuko, smiling as he moved and dodged, gliding easily from opponent to opponent. “I welcome it.”
“If you surrender,” Elmo said, “I promise you will live.”
“Ha!” Turuko laughed, spinning to kick Draga’s sword from his hands and following through with a punch that caught the man on his jaw. It was a glancing blow, but Draga staggered back, breathing hard.
“If you attack, I promise you will die!” Turuko said as he dodged a swipe from Shanhaevel and a lunge from Elmo simultaneously.
There was a lull in the fight as the three men facing the monk stepped back, breathing hard.
Damn, thought Shanhaevel, wishing he had some appropriate magic left to aid in his attacks. Anything he tried to use now would endanger his companions, too. He adjusted his grip on his staff and found his center of balance again.
The three men circled Turuko, dosing in to take the fight to him once more. Draga struck first this time, jumping in and feinting, then darting back out. While Turuko was still in the midst of repelling that, Shanhaevel stepped forward and tried to sweep the monk’s legs, but he stepped back again before Turuko could land a retaliatory strike. They were working the monk more effectively now, feinting, jabbing, and making him spin and defend more strenuously than before.
After both Draga and Shanhaevel occupied Turuko together, Elmo came in high, his axe raised. Turuko sneered as he prepared to bend away from the attack, but at the last moment, Elmo released the axe, sending it spinning, and Turuko’s sneer turned to surprise as the weapon went rotating toward his head. The monk ducked it easily enough, but Elmo had gone into a roll at the monk’s feet and was now inside the Bakluni’s reach. Turuko spun back to face the huge man, preparing to strike with a kick, but Elmo was too fast—amazingly fast, Shanhaevel later remembered thinking. Elmo snapped up and at Turuko from a crouch.