"The camp is warded," Elaith said calmly. "You would be wise to stay where you are."
"Coward!" Rhep grated, as if eager to place that name upon another. "Leave your toys and traps and come out in the open! Name your place, if you're not afraid to fight a real man."
"The forest," Elaith said shortly, and then he turned and led the man away from Bronwyn's hiding place. After a moment, he heard behind him the heavy but cautious tread of the mercenary's boots. He heard also the stealthy rasp of metal against metal as Rhep drew his sword.
Coward indeed, the elf thought scornfully. He subtly quickened his pace to keep his back beyond the reach of the man's treacherous sword.
When he judged they were far enough away that battle would not rouse the camp, Elaith turned to face his challenger. As he did, he pulled a knife from his sleeve and slashed in a single smooth movement so fast it defied the eye to follow. The sharp edge sliced through the shoulder strap that supported Rhep's weapons belt. Belt and weapons sank toward the ground.
Rhep instinctively stooped to grab the falling belt. The elf seized a handful of hair and jerked the man's head down. At the same moment, he brought his knee up hard. The man's face smashed into the thigh greave that reinforced Elaith's travel leathers. Bone was no fit challenger for elven metal, and it gave way with a sat shy;isfying crunch.
Elaith flung the man aside. Rhep tripped and fell heavily back, clutching at a garishly broken nose. His sword clattered to the rocky ground.
The elf hooked a toe in the guard of Rhep's sword. One kick sent it spinning up. Elaith caught the descend shy;ing blade easily and held it at arms' length for inspec shy;tion. His lip curled as he regarded the pitted edge, then he stalked in.
"You drew first," he stated. "I defended myself as best I could." This remark he flavored with heavy irony-and punctuated with a vicious kick to the man's ribs. "You would have defeated me but for the fact that you tripped in the darkness and fell upon your own sword. A tragic tale, is it not? To think that you had the honor of hearing it first."
Rhep rolled blindly away. The elf aimed a final kick at the base of his spine and raised the crude weapon for the killing stroke.
A small, stubby hand seized his ankle and jerked him to a halt. Elaith released the sword and twisted, catlike, in an effort to retain his balance. He shifted his weight-and his furious gaze-back toward the direc shy;tion of the interference.
The red-bearded dwarf whom Bronwyn had called Ebenezer clicked his tongue in reproach.
"Man's down," he pointed out. "Me, I like to see games played on an even field."
Elaith kicked out viciously, but the dwarf released him and danced back out of reach with surprising agility. The meddling little toad lifted Rhep's sword in mock challenge, then he handed the weapon to its owner.
"Set to, if that's what you've a mind to do," the dwarf continued. "I'm all for a bit of fun."
So, apparently, was Rhep. Using the sword like a cane, the mercenary rose unsteadily to his feet. His broken nose was beginning to swell, and his breath whistled wetly through the shattered protuberance, but there was livid hatred in his eyes, and that served to focus and steady him.
The elf pulled twin daggers from sheaths hidden beneath his leg greaves. He whirled toward the mangy pair, one knife coming in high and intended for Rhep, the other aimed at the dwarf's throat.
He heard the heavy thud of a dwarven body hitting the ground and sensed that Ebenezer was rolling toward him. He leaped over the thick, stubby body and leaned into the attack on Rhep, but the evasion had stolen his rhythm, and his stabbing attack on the mercenary fell short of its target. Rhep easily parried the elf's knife and then punched out hard over the enjoined blades.
Elaith leaned away from the blow, but it glanced off his shoulder and spun him to one side. The mercenary leered in triumph and lunged.
The pitted sword never came close. A dwarven axe spun in, knocking Rhep's sword wide. Man and elf turned to regard Ebenezer with astonishment.
"Play fair," the dwarf admonished as he scampered around the combatants to retrieve his weapon. "Looks like it's your turn, elf. Make it good, now!"
Elaith needed no prompting. Ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder, he stood and fought with a quick and ignominious finish in mind.
His opponent seemed equally determined. Rhep used his vast size to advantage, chopping and hewing at Elaith as if the elf were an oak he was determined to whittle into arrow shafts. For all his speed and skill, Elaith was forced to take the defensive. His twin blades flashed in the gray gleam of dawn, catching the first slanting rays of the morning sun. Neither fighter could seize advantage. The dwarf continued to intervene, first on one side then the other, keeping the balance level.
Suddenly Elaith knew the dwarf's game. Bronwyn was long gone-and her companion was making sure that Elaith was kept too busy to follow.
Rage swept through him as he realized how he had been tricked. He quickly mastered the bright surge and studied his opponent. The mercenary's eyes still burned with determination, but he was blowing like a beached whale. The elf parried a heavy, slashing attack and retreated several steps.
"I have had enough of this dwarf," Elaith said firmly. "Why should we fight to amuse him? Let's kill him quickly, then have done with this."
"Nay." Rhep spat bloody foam at the elf's boots. "I wouldn't join you in a lifeboat!" He drew back his sword for another stroke.
The elf ducked under a slashing backhanded blow. As he came up, his sword sliced a thin line from the man's shoulder to elbow.
"Good hit," Ebenezer congratulated. "Took you long enough."
The dwarf's taunting stung, though Elaith took it as more an insult to his wits than his fighting prowess. Determined to end the matter, Elaith landed a stinging smack to Rhep's cheek with the flat of his dagger.
"Listen," he snapped and then stepped back.
The sounds of a caravan readying for departure drifted to them, barely audible over Rhep's labored breathing.
"I do not intend to walk to Silverymoon," Elaith said. "If I kill you now, that's what I'd have to do. Leave this for another time, and let's get on with the matters at hand."
He sheathed his daggers and began to walk back to camp. Rhep let him pass, then lunged at the elf's back.
The attack was drearily predictable. Elaith's patience snapped. He sidestepped and seized the man's wrist as it thrust past. He turned, twisting the arm behind Rhep's back. The sword clattered to the ground, and the mercenary fell to his knees, his arm held unnaturally high. Elaith jerked up higher still. Rhep's arm parted from its shoulder with an audible pop. The man shouted once in pain and outrage, then sagged to the ground, senseless.
Elaith whirled toward the dwarf, but Ebenezer had disappeared.
For a moment Elaith considered pursuit, but he had little doubt of the plan laid against him. The dwarf would no doubt return to the caravan, bearing word that Bronwyn and Elaith-who had been seen sharing a secluded campfire-had decided to go off on their own. If Elaith showed up without her, he would be called upon to explain what had become of the woman. No one would believe he was innocent of foul play. Certainly not once they managed to round up their captain and saw the state he was in.
With a hiss of frustration, Elaith turned aside and melted off into the trees. Moving lightly among the forest shadows, he skirted the camp and headed toward the city below.
The sun was high above the Moonbridge when Elaith arrived in Silverymoon, alone and in a foul temper. He asked directions of a passing town crier, then wove through the streets to a shop bearing a sign depicting a multifaceted gem.
He strode into the antechamber and toward the locked door. The two guards flanking it eyed the grimly ap shy;proaching elf warily. Elaith threw a pair of knives with shy;out breaking stride. Both men jerked upright, pinned through their throats to the door frame.