Элейн Каннингем - Elfshadow

No, there I can take a stand, Arilyn corrected silently, casting a derisive glance at the man beside her. Even if Danilo Thann were capable of holding his own in a fight—which she doubted—he would never risk getting blood on his big-city finery.

For the hundredth time since sunrise Arilyn cursed herself over her unfortunate choice of a hostage. She had fought goblinkind many times, and she knew better than to be too confident about the outcome of such a battle. Even the horses, pampered fancy mounts that they were, sensed that danger lay before them; their ears lay back against their heads and they whickered uneasily. Granted, Danilo Thann was not traveling with her of his own choice, therefore she was honor-bound to give him what protection she could. But by all the gods, she would much rather turn him over to the goblins. Perhaps they could wipe that complacent look off his foolish face!

Arilyn’s angry thoughts were interrupted by an unearthly screech. The sound split the air and hung, reverberating, over the marsh. That was the final straw for her temperamental horse, who reared up violently and unexpectedly. Arilyn grabbed at the pommel of her saddle with both hands to keep from being thrown. Before she could reclaim the reins, the horse bolted.

“Hang on,” Danilo yelled, urging his own horse close to Arilyn’s panicked mount. What was he trying to do? she wondered. His horse looked no calmer than hers. It careened along with teeth bared, its ears flat back against its mane and the whites of its terrified eyes gleaming. Danilo seized Arilyn’s reins, struggling to control his own mount with one hand.

That’s it, Arilyn thought with a flash of resignation. We’re both down. Before their spooked mounts had gone a dozen paces, by sheer strength of arm and will Danilo brought both horses to a halt.

Arilyn gaped at the noble in disbelief, earning one of his charming, infuriating smiles. He tossed her reins back to her. “Nice trick, eh? Luck is with you. You abducted the captain of Waterdeep’s champion polo team. Next time, my dear, do try to steal battle-seasoned horses, hmmm?”

Before she could respond to his gibe, a second roar rolled across the marsh. Arilyn drew the moonblade and readied herself for the attack. One of the dangers of the marsh lay in the weird way in which it warped sound. The taunts of their unseen enemy seemed to come from everywhere at once. Where, then, could she and Danilo run?

From behind the ridge of a nearby hillock rose half a score of enormous, scale-covered nightmares. Arilyn had heard tales of the lizard men of Chelimber Marsh, but the reality brought a quick lump of horror to her throat.

Tall as men, the scaly gray-green creatures lurched toward them through the mist and the marsh grass on heavily muscled legs, shrieking and roaring with bloodlust as they brandished blades and battlehammers in their massive, taloned hands.

“Wait a minute! You said there’d be goblins. Those don’t look like goblins to me,” Danilo protested. “I could be wrong, of course.”

“Lizard men,” Arilyn snapped, struggling to control her terrified horse as she formulated a battle plan. Outnumbered as they were, five-to-one, flight seemed the best course. As she flashed a look over her shoulder, she saw a small band of goblins—a hunting party, most likely—rising from the marsh grass, effectively cutting off the chance of a southward retreat.

“So. Do we fight or run?” Danilo asked.

The half-elf spun back around. The lizard men had fanned out into a line, blocking escape to the north or east. “I’ll fight. You run,” she shouted, pointing with the moonblade toward the ruined keep.

Danilo extended his hand. “My sword?”

Arilyn had forgotten. She reached behind her saddle, snatched his blade from its scabbard, and tossed it to him. Danilo deftly caught the weapon, then squinted toward the setting sun. “Now those ,” he remarked, “are goblins.”

The half-elf groaned. Three more of the creatures had sprung from behind the piles of stone and rubble, their weapons drawn. Gibbering and snarling, they rushed forward, and Arilyn caught a whiff of the stench that rose from their dark orange skin and filthy leather armor. All three goblins waved rusted swords, and their snarls bared rows of short, sharp fangs. Lemon-colored eyes gleamed with eagerness for battle.

“I’ll take those little ones,” the dandy volunteered.

“Go, you half-witted troll,” she shouted.

Danilo saluted her and wheeled his horse around, galloping toward the ruins and the onrushing goblins. On horseback, Arilyn reasoned, even Danilo should be able to handle three unmounted goblins. To her surprise, he slashed at the western-most lizard man as he rushed past it, as if daring the creatures to follow him.

Good tactics, she acknowledged briefly. If we divide them, they can’t surround us as easily. Then there was no more time for thought. The lizard men were almost upon her.

All of the lizard men.

A moment’s surprise, and then Arilyn understood. The creatures might hunt in a band, but they had little intelligence. Their instincts were for survival, not strategy. Thus, each individual lizard man chose to attack the smaller, seemingly weaker member of the pair. Their mistake, she thought with a thin smile. Raising the glowing moonblade aloft, she forced her horse into a charge.

The first of the lizard men lumbered into range, swinging a curved scimitar in a wicked arc. With a lightning combination, Arilyn parried its first blow and then ran the creature through. The next lizard she disarmed by lopping off its taloned hand. Its shrieks of rage and pain set the rest of the pack rocking back a step, buying Arilyn an instant’s respite. She struggled to control her horse as she flashed a glance in Danilo’s direction.

He was faring far better than she’d dared to hope. Somehow he had managed to fell two of the goblins. Still on horseback, he was making short work of the third. The lizard men, having decided on Arilyn, were paying him no heed whatsoever. For the span of one heartbeat, Arilyn knew despair. Her hostage would surely take the opportunity handed him and flee, leaving her to face the monsters alone. Well then, she would give them a fight. With a fierce battle cry, she raised the sword in challenge and dared the lizard men to come within its range.

The creatures halted, uncertain. Long, reptilian tongues flickered in and out between daggerlike fangs as the lizard men weighed their hunger and the encouraging shouts of the goblin band against the glowing sword and half-elf’s unexpectedly strong resistance. Arilyn’s prancing mare whinnied in terror, and the sound seemed to shatter the lizard men’s momentary reluctance. Sensing a weakness, they shrieked anew and pressed forward, almost climbing over each other in their eagerness.

The moonblade danced and twinkled as Arilyn slashed at her attackers. Three more lizard men fell, clutching at sliced throats or severed limbs. One of the remaining creatures came in low with a large, upturned knife and a bright idea: attack the horse. Perceiving the monster’s intent, Arilyn viciously dug her heels into her horse’s side and jerked back the reins. The terrified mare reared, just barely avoiding a slash that would have gutted it.

Arilyn used the momentum of the horse’s movement to dismount. Throwing herself backward in a somersault, the agile half-elf rolled out of the saddle and landed on her feet, moonblade in hand. With the flat of her blade she smacked the mare’s flanks, hard. The horse fled, dodging the clutching talons of the five still-standing, hungry lizards. The lizard men, robbed of the promise of horseflesh, surrounded Arilyn and closed in.

The half-elf could hear excited squeaks and harsh, high-pitched chattering just outside the tight circle of scales and blades. Wonderful, Arilyn thought with dismay. The goblin hunting party had finally decided to join in. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with.