Verin ignored his attempt at reconciliation. He stepped forward with an overhand hack.
Potbelly easily deflected the downward thrust with his sword. Managed to turn Verin nearly ninety degrees and for an added insult, kicked him in the seat of his pants causing him to lose his balance and hit the ground.
“Now,” he began, “I do not wish to kill you. You can’t win; why don’t you just accept my apology and live another day?”
“Yes,” agreed Scar. “I’m sure your Adele would much prefer you alive.” He glanced to Potbelly then noticed the altercation had drawn the attention of some of the townsfolk. One ran off toward The Gnashing Teeth.
Verin got back to his feet.
“You cannot defile my betrothed and live,” he cried. Rushing forward, he again tried to stab Potbelly. This time, Potbelly met the attack with his dagger; caught the blade between his blade and the crossguard, and twisted. Verin’s knife fell to the ground.
The man stepped back with Potbelly’s sword pressing into his abdomen. “I’ve had enough of this. Either accept my apology…or die.”
“Watch out!” came Scar’s warning, but too late.
A man ran from the crowd, dove, and crashed into Potbelly. Both men tumbled to the ground.
The sound of Scar’s twin swords leaving their scabbards came a split-second before the crash of metal on metal. Another from the crowd had rushed Scar with a short sword.
Scar knocked it aside once, twice and then on the man’s third lightning quick attack, followed with a thrust of his second sword taking him in the right shoulder. Not a killing blow but one that left his sword arm useless and the man’s short sword in the dirt.
Potbelly had regained his feet and the two friends stood back to back in an ever growing ring of opponents. Sword, maces, knives, more than a dozen men encircled them.
“Killers!”
“Murderers!”
“Thieves!”
Two women had come to the man’s aid and were even now tearing his shirt and seeing to the wound.
Verin had by this time reclaimed his knife and was whipping the others up into a killing frenzy.
“They soiled my Adele!” he shouted. Cries of outrage followed.
“Her honor must be avenged!”
“Kill them both!” a man shouted.
Scar faced a man towering over a foot taller than himself. The giant of a man bore a mace as long as his long swords having a head the size of a pumpkin dotted with three inch spikes. He swung it with an ease belying its obvious weight.
“Come on,” Scar said, beckoning with a sword taunting him. “You wish to be the first to die this night?”
With a cry, the giant of a man leapt forward. Using both hands, he swung a powerful strike at Scar’s midsection.
Stepping back and to the side he waited for the massive weapon to pass through where he had just stood, then shot forward. One sword took the man’s arm just below the wrist, severing flesh and nerves. Fingers grew slack and the mace fell. As the man cried out, Scar’s second sword came in from the side to rake across his chest; opening up shirt and flesh. The tip scrapped across ribs and blood flowed free.
The crowd stood stunned as Scar twisted and knocked the giant back on his butt with a roundhouse kick to the chest. For a moment, silence reigned supreme. Then with a roar, the armed men rushed forward en masse.
Verin was the first to reach Potbelly. His attack lacked any finesse as had the previous ones. This time, Potbelly didn’t pull any punches. He twisted, allowed Verin to close and sunk his knife into the man’s chest. As he pulled the knife free, Potbelly struck him in the side of the head with the pommel of his sword. Even as another man wielding a sword closed with the pit fighter, Verin fell to the ground dead.
Blades danced as Potbelly with his sword and dagger stood back to back with Scar and his twin long swords. Their dance of death claimed man after man and still they kept coming. Then as Scar faced off against two men with swords, he caught sight of movement atop a nearby building.
“We got archers,” he announced.
Potbelly felled a knifer with a slit across the throat then ran a macer through with his sword. “Time to go.”
“Break left…” Scar said. Swords flashed and a mace was blocked on his right, a sword was deflected on his left then a quick follow up thrust dropped the macer. “Now!”
Both swords thrust at the swordsman causing him to stumble backward to avoid being run through. His withdrawal created an opening and the pit fighters raced off.
An arrow struck the ground where Potbelly had stood just a moment ago and another whizzed by his ear as he and Scar raced down an alley.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Appendix I
Appendix II
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Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two Page 62
