Night Masks - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,43

in. The dwarf blocked a sword thrust with the pack, tangling the sword in its straps long enough for Ivan to get out a package, six inches square and carefully wrapped.

The swordsman yanked away and tore the pack from his blade, then looked back to the dwarf curiously.

Ivan had ripped open the box and removed its contents: a toy he had been making for Cadderly ever since the young priest's heroics against the evil Barjin.

The black adamantite border of the spindle-disks con-trasted-mesmerizingly with the semiprecious crystal center. The swordsman paused, wondering what purpose these twin disks, joined in their center by a small rod, might possibly serve.

Ivan fumbled to get his fat finger through the loop in the string wrapping that small rod. He had seen Cadderly use this type of toy a thousand times, had marveled at how the young priest so easily let the disks roll down to the end of their cord, then casually, with a flip of his wrist, sent them spinning back to his waiting hand.

"Ye ever seen one of these?" Ivan asked the curious swordsman.

The man charged; Ivan flung the disks out at him. The man got his sword in the way to block, then eyed his weapon incredulously, regarding the ample nick the harder adamantite had caused.

Ivan had no time to gloat over the integrity of the craftsmanship, though. His throw had been strong, but, unlike Cadderly, he had no idea of how to recall the spinning disks. They hung near the end of the string, spinning sidelong.

"Ooooooo!" PikePs rush from the side turned the swordsman about. He sidestepped the raging dwarf and regained his balance as Pikel swung about, scraping one foot on the ground for leverage to begin yet another furious charge.

This time, the green-bearded dwarf stopped short of passing the man, instead launching a series of furious blows with his heavy club. The swordsman worked hard, but managed to keep out of harm's way.

Ivan shoulder-blocked Pikel aside.
Chapter Nine
"This one's mine!" the gruff dwarf explained.

The swordsman smiled at the dwarfs apparent stupidity - together these two could have easily finished him.

His smile went away - literally - when Ivan suddenly hurled the spindle-disks again. This time, surprisingly, the small weapon was not attached to the dwarfs finger, had no encumbrance at all as it zipped past the swordsman's futile attempt to block.

The man's head snapped backward viciously and his face seemed to melt away when the adamantite disks connected squarely, removing every visible tooth, smashing apart his nose and both cheekbones, and neatly tucking his chin up under his upper jaw.

"Didn't think a dwarf could throw like that, did ye?" Ivan bellowed.

The man stood staring in disbelief; his sword fell to the ground.

"Oo," Pikel muttered as the man's head lolled freely to one side, for only then did either of the brothers realize that Ivan's powerful throw had snapped the man's neck.

Ivan reiterated Pikel's grim thought. "Oo."

Kick and swipe, punch and spearing thrust.

Danica and the staff-wielder moved in vicious harmony, attacking and parrying with incredible speed. For seconds that stretched into minutes, neither scored any hit at all.

But in the heightened competition, the adrenaline pumping fiercely, neither seemed to tire in the least.

"You are good, Lady . . . ," the staff-wielder remarked, his voice trailing off as though he had meant to say more. "As I expected you would be."

Danica could hardly reply. Had the man just teased her, almost uttering her name? How could he know? A hundred thoughts raced through Danica's mind with the sudden suspicion that this was not a random ambush. Wis Cadderly safe? she wondered frantically. And what of Avery and Ru-fo, who had come down this same path just a couple of days before?

Thinking her distracted, the Night Mask came in viciously.

Danica dropped straight to the ground and kicked out, connecting on the man's knee hard enough to halt his rush. Danica stepped ahead, coming up right in the man's face. She took a painful hit on the shoulder for her efforts, but got in one of her own, a snapping chop to the man's throat. In the single instant the man was forced to pause and gulp for breath, Danica got one hand planted on his chin and the other around the back of his head to grab a clump of hair.

The man dropped his staff and clamped his hands desperately onto Danica's wrists, preventing her from twisting his head around. They held the pose for several moments, with Danica simply not strong

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