Stasheff, Christopher - Rogue Wizard 04 - A Wizard In War by Stasheff Christopher

Author:Stasheff, Christopher
Language: eng
Format: epub

10

Ciare saw him reaching, and cried, "Coll, no!"

But another hand intercepted Coll's, holding him off in an iron grasp, and it was Dirk's other hand that caught the lordling's wrist and squeezed. The young blood cursed and twisted his hand free of Dirk's-and of Ciare's waist, but he was too busy glaring at Dirk to notice. "Who are you, fellow?"

"A gentleman who had a prior claim on this young woman's time." Dirk stepped up to him, nose to nose, though he had to tilt his head back to do it. "Do you dispute that claim?"

The young blood glanced down at Dirk's hand on his rapier's hilt and grinned wolfishly. "Why, here's a poxy bold fellow! Do you know to whom you speak?"

"What does it matter?" Dirk retorted. "Corpses need no names."

The young blood's grin hardened. "But they have them, and their kin take unkindly to those who slew them."

Dirk shrugged. "So you have a large number of corpses, all with the same name.

Is that an improvement?"

The young blood snarled and pushed Dirk away, leaping back himself to draw his rapier. Dirk's steel flickered out to guard only a second behind. The other young bucks started to move in, but someone nearby cleared his throat very loudly. All four of the playboys looked up-and suddenly became less willing to play, because it was Gar who stood nearby, hand on the hilt of a sword longer than any of theirs, towering over them all by almost two feet and a hundred pounds of muscle. He was only watching the proceedings with interest, but the backup group took the hint and backed off.

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"The landlord won't like spilled blood in his innyard," Gar said. "Be quick about it, will you?"

"We'll see whose blood is spilled!" the young gentleman snapped, but with more volume than emotion. He leaped forward, thrusting.

Dirk parried, then whirled his sword in a figure eight as the young blood advanced. He thrust, and Dirk's sword rang down, striking the rapier so hard it spun away into the dirt. Its owner cried out, shaking his hand in pain. While he was distracted, Dirk stepped up and twisted the dagger out of his left hand. The young blood stared at him, suddenly realizing how completely he was at Dirk's mercy. His face went white.

Dirk sheathed his sword and took the injured hand. "Here, let me see." The young blood tried to pull away, then shouted more with alarm than pain as Dirk's left hand closed tight on his forearm. Dirk's right probed the other's sword hand gently. The man winced and ground his teeth. Dirk dropped the hand and stepped back. "Nothing broken-but I didn't think there was. Probably a sprain, though. You should wind a bandage tightly around it and let it rest for a day.

Some brandy would help-inside you. Not too much, though."

The young blood blinked, surprised that his late opponent should care.

"Here, take him home," Dirk said to the backup group, then turned to Ciare, who was watching from the safe haven of Coll's arm.

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