Song of the Saurials: The Finders Stone Trilogy, Book 3 (Finer's Stone Trilogy) by Kate Novak & Jeff Grubb

Author:Kate Novak & Jeff Grubb [Novak, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786963263
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-05-22T00:00:00+00:00

11

Betrayals

Breck pulled away from Zhara and drew his own sword, but he looked at Alias doubtfully. Then he remembered the sage’s words at the tribunal. “Elminster told us Phalse had been destroyed,” he said.

“Yes,” Alias admitted, “by my own hand. Before that, though, the little monster created her and eleven other of my look-alikes, pawns that he intended to use to destroy his old enemy, Moander.” Alias raised the tip of her sword to Zhara’s throat. “That’s why you’re so eager to have Akabar go after Moander, isn’t it? Because you’re Phalse’s creature.”

Zhara met Alias’s eyes with her own and replied calmly, “And are you still Moander’s creature that you are so eager to see the Darkbringer live? Here is your chance to destroy me. You have your weapon in hand. Why not use it and finish me off?”

“You witch!” Alias growled. She threw her sword down and leaped at Zhara.

The two women tumbled to the ground. Dragonbait moved quickly to separate them, but Breck put his hand out to stop the saurial. “One thing you never want to do,” he said with a chuckle, “is get between two women in a brawl.”

The paladin’s eyes narrowed angrily at Breck’s patronizing tone and amused grin, but upon consideration, he accepted the wisdom of the ranger’s words. He stood by watching Alias and Zhara roll about on the wet ground, thinking how ironic it was that only a few minutes before, the swordswoman had found his own battle with Breck so amusing.

Alias tried to wrap her hands around Zhara’s throat, but she drew her hands away hastily, pricked by some shards of metal. Beneath her robe, the priestess wore a studded leather collar around her neck. The swordswoman’s eyes widened with a sudden suspicion. She grabbed the front of the priestess’s robe and ripped the white fabric from the neck to the waistline. Beneath her robe, Zhara wore a chain shirt cut very low.

“You stole my armor!” Alias screeched. She raised a fist, but before she could slam it into Zhara’s face, the priestess whipped a flail out from her sleeve and clubbed the swordswoman on the side of the head.

Alias rolled off Akabar’s wife, moaning and clutching her ear and temple with both hands. Zhara stood and backed away from the swordswoman. Dragonbait bent over Alias, who was struggling to her knees.

“Have you finished your little catfight?” Breck asked.

“Catfight?” Zhara repeated, looking puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“When two women fight,” Breck explained, “it’s called a catfight.”

“Why?” Zhara asked.

“Well, because women fight differently from men—more like cats. You know, with your claws,” Breck said, grinning.

Zhara’s eyes narrowed angrily, and she twirled the end of her flail menacingly. “Come here, ranger, and I will show you how women fight,” she growled.

Dragonbait abandoned Alias’s side to step between Zhara and Breck. He grabbed the Turmishwoman’s weapon arm and shook his head furiously.

“Let me go, Dragonbait!” Zhara demanded. “This arrogant northern barbarian is in need of a lesson,” she said, tossing her head in Breck’s direction.

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