Champion of Fire & Ice - Megan Derr Page 0,41

they must realize something is amiss that you haven't arrived yet when you clearly were expected."

Lee perked up at that. "So we go in swinging."

"Yes. Reckless, but I think in this case it'll give us an advantage. They're braced for something quiet, the way they're spread out. They don't know who they're looking for, but they think it'll be a single person showing up for an afternoon tryst. Not a pair of soldiers. Come on, then. Just keep a couple of them alive so we have proof it's Tekker behind this."

"Understood."

They retraced their steps to the alley entrance. "We'll be facing at least twelve, but I'd assume twenty," Cimar said. "Our best chance is to surprise the group out front and take them out quickly, then deal with the remainder as they come out of the inn. We'll need your particular skillset to pull this off. Are you up for it?"

"Yes," Lee said.

"You take the left, I'll take the right. Once we've cleared the yard, focus on the stable entrance, and I'll focus on the main door."

Lee nodded and made certain his sword could be easily drawn, then flexed his fingers, sparks of rainbow light catching at the tips briefly.

Cimar loosened his sword in its scabbard, secured the folds of his cape so it would stay out of his way in the fight, and headed off, Lee to his right and slightly behind.

He lifted a hand as he drew close. "Evening, gentle sirs. Happen to know what they're serving for dinner tonight?"

One of the mercenaries stared. "You're that one. The Lindworm Slayer. Aren't you?"

"I suppose I am," Cimar said with a sigh. "I wish people were this excited about the indexing system I created for the archives. I'm much prouder of that than who or what I've killed. How do you know me, good sir?"

"Who doesn't know you if they've been in town more than ten minutes?" another mercenary muttered. "It's all they bloody talk about."

Cimar made a face. "I apologize, and I mean that sincerely. That sounds utterly tedious, and I have as much ego as any knight."

Beside him, Lee snorted.

One of the men looked at him, expression sharpening.

Cimar drew his sword and slammed the pommel into the man's nose, then kicked his feet out and turned on the man who'd first spoken, grabbing his head and slamming it into the wall behind him.

Nearby, out of immediate sight, he could hear Lee engaging more of the mercenaries.

Cimar managed to take out one more, this one regrettably fatal, before even more came surging out of the inn and, as he'd feared, still more from the stables. Though he hated to leave Lee to his own devices, no matter how well he could handle himself, they'd made a plan, and he wouldn't break from it because he wanted to fret like a parent.

Instead he slammed a gauntleted fist into the face of the young, stupid man that rushed him with little thought beyond 'charge.' The next couple were far more experienced, but still no match for Cimar. These bastards should try working in a library for a single day.

After he'd cut those two down, he moved on to the next. And the next.

There were screams and shouts around him, but all he focused on was the next sword, the sound of movement coming too hard and fast, the stench of blood filling his nostrils, the sweat sticking his hair to his face and stinging his eyes.

By the time the fighting ceased, he was battered, bruised, and utterly exhausted. That was just one thing the ballads always left out: how fucking exhausting fighting was, even for the best trained knights.

He wiped sweat from his brow with a relatively clean bit of tunic and looked around for Lee—and stopped short as he took in the scene by the barn.

Ice. The puddle that had been there, left over from an early morning rainfall, was iced over, and it was clear more than one mercenary hadn't realized that until too late. He looked up, saw Lee standing nearby, slumped against a wall looking as wrung out as Cimar felt. "Since when can you do ice?"

"Since about a month ago. First time I've used it outside of practice, though." He shoved his sword into its sheath. "Damned useful."

Cimar just shook his head, too impressed to form words. Lee really was shaping up to be a mage-knight of legend. He'd leave Cimar in the dust one day, and Cimar couldn't wait to see it. "Come on, let's