Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,77

gauche took the weapon from the brute’s hand.

“What will you do now?” the halfling taunted his disarmed opponent. The cyclopian stared dumbfoundedly at its empty hand as though it had been betrayed.

The angry brute snarled, curled its fingers, and punched out, and Oliver, caught by surprise, barely ducked in time. The halfling had to bend at the waist, then wave his arms frantically to regain his balance. He came up straight and slashed across with his shorter blade, forcing the advancing cyclopian back at the last desperate instant.

“I had to ask,” Oliver scolded himself.

His slip had given the edge back to the cyclopians, all three standing straight and untangled once more. The one who had lost its sword grinned wickedly, drawing out a long curved dagger.

Oliver was back on his heels in an instant. “This is not going well at all,” he admitted, and gave a profound sigh.

One of the brutes lunged for him again, and Oliver’s rapier turned the attack aside. Then, to Oliver’s surprise, the cyclopian kept going forward, pitching right off the ledge—and Oliver noticed an arrow sticking from its back. The halfling glanced up past the cyclopians to see Luthien running over the peak, bow in hand and readying another arrow.

“I love this man,” Oliver said, sighing.

One of the cyclopians charged up to intercept Luthien before he could ready another arrow.

Luthien shrugged and smiled agreeably, dropping the bow to the roof and whipping out his sword. In came the brute, standing somewhat below the young man, and down snapped Luthien’s blade, diagonally across the cyclopian’s sword.

Luthien brought his sword back up, turning it as he went so that its tip sailed further ahead, nicking the cyclopian on the cheek. Up came the cyclopian’s blade as well, stubbornly aimed for Luthien’s chest.

But Luthien was quick enough to bring his sword ringing down on the thrust once again, this time turning his blade under his own arm as he slapped the cyclopian’s sword out to the side. Continuing the subtle twist of the wrist, Luthien straightened his elbow suddenly, snapping the sword tip ahead.

The cyclopian grimaced and took a quick step back, sliding Luthien’s blade out of its chest. It looked down to the wound, even managed to get a hand up to feel the warmth of its spilling blood, then slumped facedown on the roof.

The cyclopian remaining against Oliver, wielding only the dagger, used sheer rage to keep the halfling on the defensive. It sliced across, back and forth, and Oliver had to keep hopping up on his toes, sucking in his ample stomach as the blade zipped past. The halfling held his rapier out in front to keep the cyclopian somewhat at arm’s length and kept hurling taunts at the brute, goading it into making a mistake.

“I know that one-eye is not a proper description,” the halfling said, laughing. “I know that cyclopians have two eyes, and the brown one on their backsides is by far the prettier!”

The brute howled and whipped its arm above its head, cutting down with the dagger as if it meant to split Oliver down the middle. In stepped the halfling and up came his arms in a cross above his head, catching and cradling the heavy blow, though his little legs nearly buckled under the tremendous weight.

Oliver spun about to put his back toward his opponent, which further extended the cyclopian’s arm and forced the brute to lean forward. Before the cyclopian could react, Oliver reversed his grip on his main gauche and brought it swinging down, like a pendulum, to rise behind him and move in the general direction of the cyclopian’s groin.

Up went the squealing cyclopian on its toes and higher, and Oliver aided the momentum by bending at the waist and throwing his weight backward into the brute’s rising shins.

Then the cyclopian was flying free, turning a half somersault. It hit the cobblestones flat on its back and lay very still.

“It is not so bad,” Oliver called after it. “While you are down there, you might retrieve your sword!”

“More are coming,” Luthien started to explain as he joined Oliver by the sack of booty. He understood his point was moot when Oliver reached into the sack, drew out a plate and whipped it sidelong up the roof. Luthien turned about to see the spinning missile shatter against the bridge of a cyclopian’s nose as the beast came over the peak.

Luthien looked back to Oliver in disbelief.

“That was an expensive shot,” the halfling admitted with a shrug.

Then the