Tycho froze. On his left, Nico moved closer.
"Tycho!" At the bar, Laera stepped forward suddenly. Just as quickly, Ovel reached out and wrapped an arm around her, holding her back and snatching down her hood. Long brown hair tumbled free. Brin's eye widened slightly.
"Is that…?" His grin turned sharp and feral. "Tycho, you charmer! I think we've got another reason for you to behave yourself." He nodded and Ovel's arm tightened.
Laera stiffened, gasped, and screamed. Ovel's free hand reached under his cloak and drew out a short sword. Laera jerked, still screaming.
Tycho half-turned toward her.
Everyone moved at once.
Nico leaped at him. Tycho fell back, barely catching a flurry of action behind the bar as Muire snatched a hot mulling iron out of her brazier and thrust it hard into Ovel's back. Lander's man screeched louder than Laera and twisted away, his sword clattering from his hand to the floor. Tycho didn't have a chance to see more-Nico grabbed at him and he slid down to get away, staggering into Li as he did. The collision sent the Shou stumbling forward. Lander and Serg stepped in fast to seize him.
Except that Li's stumble somehow became instead a graceful lunge that put his fists hard into the thugs' guts. Lander grunted and staggered; Serg gasped and went reeling back, crashing into a couple of tables and sending ale flying.
Tycho would have stared in stunned awe if Nico hadn't reached down with both hands, grabbed the front of his coat, and dragged him to his feet. The bard seized the other man's forearms and slammed himself up and forward in a savage head butt that connected right under Nico's chin. His head snapped back. Tycho followed up with a fast knee to the crotch. Nico let go of him and dropped.
With Lander and his men suddenly in trouble, the crowd had found its courage as well. The Ease's patrons were surging to their feet, some diving to tackle Serg or Nico, some rushing to the aid of Muire and Laera. Ovel had found his feet again. He still had a grip on Laera as well, one hand tangled in her flowing hair. Keeping well below the level of the bar so that Muire couldn't reach him with her smoking iron, he was groping for his sword. Tycho caught a glimpse of his eyes as he saw the crowd coming at him. Any thought of threatening Laera forgotten, he let go of her and scrambled for his sword with both hands, only barely managing to grab it before the customers of the Ease could grab him. Twisting to his feet, Ovel swept the sword in short, dangerous arcs.
"Keep back!" he snarled.
The crowd-Muire at the head now-pressed as close as it could.
Tycho whirled around. "Li, we've-"
A tremendous, squealing trumpet cut him off as Black Scratch plunged into the fray. In the cramped confines of the tavern, the boar couldn't exactly charge, but with his massive weight behind him, a lumbering rush was enough. People scrambled to get out of the way of his tusks and hooves; someone fell and was simply trampled. Tycho dived across a table for safety. He dragged a knife out of a sheath at his belt-as if the little blade would do any good-but Black Scratch was headed straight for one target.
Li stared at the oncoming mass of bristles and tusks for only an instant before gathering himself and leaping high, grabbing for a wax-encrusted iron chandelier overhead and tucking his legs up tight.
Black Scratch passed completely under him, his weight and hooves suddenly a hindrance on the tavern's worn wood floor. Out of control, the pig careened through a tangle of chairs and tables and straight into the solid stone side of the Ease's fireplace. He staggered back and sat down like a drunk man waking in a strange place. Li pumped his legs, swung free of the chandelier, and landed lightly in an easy crouch. Metal scraped on metal as he drew the butterfly swords, a blade in each hand, one high, one low.
More bare steel combined with Black Scratch's charge was enough for the Ease's patrons. Shouting in fear, courage forgotten, many rushed for the door. A few stayed to menace Ovel, but suddenly most of the tavern was clear. Tycho scrambled back to his feet-and saw the lithe little figure that rolled out from under a table behind Li. "Watch out!" he shouted. Li spun around, still crouched, and slashed out with a sword. Brin, a dagger in his fist, just tumbled aside. And tumbled again as Li's second blade swept around. Again and again, a roll ahead of each flashing blow, forcing Li to spin around to keep up with him.
Focused on the halfling, the Shou didn't see Lander loom up behind him, a broken chair leg in his hand. Tycho sucked in breath and raised his hand to cast a spell.
Lander was faster. "'Ware magic!" he spat at Brin and changed his target. Suddenly the chair leg was hurtling through the air at Tycho. The wood cracked into his outstretched arm and numbness rippled from his wrist to his elbow. The spell died on Tycho's lips, vanishing into a yelp of pain. Lander's stealthy attack was spoiled as well, though; Li hissed and spun back into a defensive stance, both butterfly swords at the ready. Lander didn't let him rest. The thug wrenched out Li's own saber and sent it at him in a powerful backhanded blow. Li just barely rocked back out of the way.
Brin whirled and threw himself at Tycho.
A gasp of panic forced itself out of the bard. He fell back, knife raised. Brin's dagger slashed out. Tycho only just slid away from it. He lunged at Brin in the wake of the blow but caught nothing but air. The one-eyed halfling bent like a snake-a snake with arms and one steel fang-and just kept coming, dagger weaving and stabbing, forcing Tycho back. Behind him, Lander was bashing away at Li with ugly, brutal slashes. The Shou saber clearly wasn't his weapon of choice, but elegance wasn't something Lander was known for. An ugly blow still hurt. Li was catching some of the blows with the butterfly blades, but it was obvious he would rather have held the saber than the twin weapons.
Lander's next blow fell. Li brought his left blade up and let the saber slide along its back all the way to the up-swept guard and twisted, locking the longer weapon for a moment as he reached in underneath and cut at Lander with his right blade. Lander threw himself back. The butterfly sword sliced through his mantle and his dark-red tunic, but missed his flesh. Li wasn't so lucky. As he withdrew his left sword, releasing the lock on the saber, Lander thrust forward instead of pulling back. The saber sliced a shallow gash across Li's arm. He gasped and jumped away.
That gasp broke Tycho's desperate concentration on the glittering weave of steel before him. In a heartbeat, Brin lunged.
Tycho tried to dodge. His heels caught a fallen chair.
He went sprawling backward, backside slapping against the floor hard enough to shock the breath out of him. Brin stepped up between the bard's splayed feet.
"Tomorrow!" Tycho blurted desperately. "You said tomorrow!"
"I don't need a reminder!" Brin bellowed back. "Sweet but you're getting too big for your breeches, Tycho! Maybe it's time to fix that!" He flipped the dagger around in his grasp and hurled sharply almost straight down.
Tycho shoved his heels against the floor and scooted backward desperately. His back slammed up against the bar, bringing a jangle of protest from his strilling, but it was enough-Brin's dagger sank into the floor instead of into his groin. The halfling grabbed for the quivering weapon. Tycho brought up one leg and aimed a kick at him, but Brin just tumbled back again. He came to rest on top of a table.
With a hard scowl, he produced another dagger. Tycho yelled.
Across the room, Li caught and locked the saber with one butterfly sword and, before Lander could pull it away, locked it from the other direction with the second sword as well. He twisted sharply. The saber jerked right out of Lander's hand. Li let all three weapons clatter to the floor and thrust forward with a double-handed blow that hammered into Lander's chest and sent the thug flying backward to crash down across the still-groggy Serg. Whirling around, Li grabbed a chair in each hand. "Brin!" he shouted.