Max Allan Collins

'You bumped into me, Akkadian!' the Nubian said, between blows. 'You are the clumsiest assassin I ever saw. ...'

Mathayus flicked a look at Balthazar, whose face clenched with something unusual for him: fear.

Then the Nubian blurted, 'Look out!'

A guard was swinging a sword at the Akkadian's face, coming in to aid his lord, and Mathayus jumped back a step, at which time he heard the hiss­ing, and realized what Balthazar had really been warning him about....

That king cobra was sitting up, near the Akka­dian's feet, and it seemed very irritated to be caught in the middle of all this commotion.

Then two snakes struck at the same time—the cobra and Memnon. Mathayus deftly dodged them both; but now he found himself trading thrusts and parries with the warlord even as the hissing snake slithered around, seemingly only attracted to the Ak­kadian's nearby calves.

This distraction cost Mathayus dearly—his coun­terblows were weakened, as he tried to avoid not only Memnon but the venomous serpent. The war­lord had seen the snake, but it held little if any threat for him, as it was much closer to the Akkadian. At any rate, the warlord's battle leathers protected his calves. He took the advantage and delivered several slicing blows to the assassin's torso, nothing fatal, but wounds oozed blood, adding pain to the distrac­tions already plaguing the barbarian.

Balthazar would have helped the Akkadian and cut that cobra to ribbons, if he could; but his atten­tion was on the doorway, through which a steady stream of reinforcements came, even as he drove— and chopped down—the guards already in the chamber back toward that entry.

The great Nubian warrior was starting to feel the cost of the struggle—his arms aching, his wind heaving. How many of these bastards must he kill? Left and right, they fell—and still they kept coming!

The Akkadian, in the meantime, had worked his way to an oil lamp, both the snake and the warlord following him. He kicked the spindly legs out from under the lamp, sending the bowl of fire crashing to the floor, burning oil washing toward the snake, droplets stinging it, spitting back at the serpent.

And the cobra had had enough—it slithered away. Let the humans battle all they wanted.

There was no time, however, for Mathayus to feel any sense of relief, as Memnon—who seemed to have gotten a second wind—was bearing down on him again.

The lamp Mathayus had toppled, having done its work with the cobra, now sought new victories, as flames spread, tickling the bottom of a huge hanging wall tapestry. Within seconds the tapestry was a sheet of flame, and the fire spread to other wall hangings, until the very walls themselves seemed ablaze.

A barrier of fire separated Mathayus and Memnon now, and the Akkadian might have snatched up the sorceress, and left the final defeat of the warlord for later, if those flames hadn't separated him from his beloved, as well. Fire cracked and snapped and a hellish heat permeated the room, drenching the par­ticipants in glistening sweat.

Memnon seemed to relish the blaze, a demon at home, and he knocked the top off another oil lamp, and ran his blade in its boiling oil.

Mathayus stared through the leaping flames— where was the bastard? And then Memnon came flying over the flames, in a somersaulting leap that only confirmed the warlord's warrior stature; and when he landed at the Akkadian's feet, Memnon swung his sword down and the two blades clanged and sparked!

Cassandra's eyes widened in terror and wonder, as she witnessed the two duelists parrying and thrusting with flaming blades now. But the arcing fire seemed to inspire Memnon, and perhaps unsettle Mathayus, because the warlord had the advantage now, driving the bigger man back, back....

A weary grunting caught her attention, despite the crack of flames and the clang of blades (and the crack and clang of flaming blades), and she turned toward