'So we're not murdering nobles,' Lurlar offered, 'but ah, pruning them-gardener-like.'
'Precisely. Come, efficient gardeners!'
Beldar Roaringhorn ducked around a pillar and drove his blade into the throat of a man who had horns like a bull thrusting straight forward from his temples.
With a bubbling roar of agony, the man spewed blood and went down. A torch guttered out nearby, plunging that part of the sewers into near-darkness. Everywhere men were running and stamping and grunting, and steel was skirling on warsteel. Off to the left, lamps bobbed wildly, and all around Beldar, men who were part monster were rushing and pouncing. As he watched, one stepped from pillar-shadows Beldar would have sworn were deserted and slapped a tentacle around a noble's neck, twisting with brutal force.
The old lord-Beldar didn't recognize him; probably a drone-uncle like Beldar himself might become, if he ever lived so long, not that the gods were likely to grant that-died in a red-faced, eye-bulging instant. Two monster-men swarmed the body for knives and coins almost before it hit the floor.
A blade thrust past Beldar's shoulder, so close that he heard the cloth of his tunic whisper as it was cut. Then something that looked like the maw of a lamprey spiraled at his face… and he was fighting for his life. Again.
Blood was everywhere underfoot, slick and slippery, and the bodies were Naoni tripped over huddled death for perhaps the twelfth time, stumbled, and fetched up bruisingly against a wall. Everywhere men were crossing swords in these tunnels, shrieking, shouting and dying, and there was no sign of Father or those who'd been with him, lost in the wild rush from the feasting hall down into these tunnels. Faendra was streaming silent tears but kept her lower lip firmly between her teeth to keep back her sobs-and held her dagger out and ready.
The dull, rolling boomings went on, slower and more ponderous, but showers of dust and grit fell at every echoing impact. Torches and lanterns flickered here and there in the gloom, and spell-glows of magical weapons flashed where stronger lights had failed.
They were in a warren of intersecting tunnels, the wine racks far behind. The Gemcloaks kept close together, fighting off nobles, frightened merchants, and what seemed like half the thieves in Dock Ward. The vicious half.
A man lunged out of a side way to topple a barrel, sending apples rolling underfoot. Korvaun and Taeros both flailed arms, cursed, and fell.
The man sprang forward, extending impossibly long arms. The fingers of his hands became long, slender biting snakes. One almost sank its fangs in Faendra's face but bit only hair as she shrieked and ducked away. Another struck at Lark's cheek, but Delopae's wicked dagger reached out of nowhere to slice away its tongue and part of its snout, trailing blood and venom, and the man roared in pain.
A moment later, Roldo and Starragar had ducked under those snake arms and buried their blades in the monster-man's ribs. He sagged to the unseen floor, sobbing and gurgling.
Naoni stumbled on rolling apples, went to her knees, and down the passage saw a cloak catch fire from a torch. It flared up brightly, casting light across a face she knew. 'Baraezym!'
As he drove his belt-dagger deep into the burning man's throat, her father's surviving apprentice heard her and peered toward her in astonishment.
Two creatures who seemed more wolf than man, but with large crab-pincers instead of paws, promptly burst out of another passage and pounced on him.
'Get to Baraezym! Save him!' Naoni shouted, pointing, and Starragar ran past her, wincing as he crushed an apple underfoot and wrenched his ankle in the doing, and sprinted down the passage. Taeros scrambled up and after him, running hard.
'Faen?' Naoni gasped. 'Are you-?'
Her words were lost in the sudden roaring charge of a man who came out of the darkness behind her, slashing at her with one long, furry arm that had the claws of a great bear.
Naoni and Faendra screamed as Korvaun slashed furiously from his knees, forcing the bear-man into a twisting sideways hop just as Lark sprang past, dagger flashing.
Throat laid open, the bear-man gurgled, staggered, raked the wall vainly with his claws… and died.
Fresh screams erupted down the tunnel, and someone far off shouted the name of a noble house like a battle- cry.
Then Korvaun roared in pain, steel clanged on steel very close by, and Naoni flung herself away and rolled in blood and apples, to come up facing Roldo Thongolir and Lark, furiously stabbing a man who looked like any back alley sneak-thief-except that rows of fanged mouths adorned both his bared forearms.
'All right back there?' Taeros called.
Lark turned with thief-blood all over her face, stepping back to let the dying man fall, and panted, 'We'll live, Lord Hawkwinter. How fare you?'
'We've got Baraezym, but he's hurt. Starragar saw Karrak Lhamphur, alone and running that way.'
'That' way was unknowable in the ill-lit gloom, of course, and Naoni found Faendra and clung to her as Korvaun and Taeros met and clasped hands, both breathing hard.
'All well?' Starragar inquired, half-carrying a stumbling Baraezym.
'Fighting is brisk,' Phandelopae Melshimber replied almost proudly. 'Any sign of Master Dyre? Or of any end to this foolishness?'
Her only answer was the approaching wail of a red-faced, portly noble, running for all he was worth. Four men in the dark breeches and jackcoats of Purple Silks servants were chasing him, long knives in their hands.
Another noble stumbled out of a side-passage with his own dark-coated pursuers close behind. The first lord burst right through the Gemcloaks, sobbing in despair-and Korvaun and Taeros closed together in his wake to meet the darkcoats with ready swords.
The next few breaths were frantic and bloody, with Taeros shouting in pain from sliced knuckles, a jackcoat sobbing as Korvaun ran him through, and steel striking against steel savagely enough to send sparks flying.
A jackcoat fell and rolled in under Taeros, seeking to topple him for easy stabbing. The Hawkwinter came down hard, but Lark jumped onto the thief's knife-wrist, and it was Taeros who struck first.
The man convulsed and sagged, dead or dying, and Roldo Thongolir bounded over him at the next jackcoat, whose blade was reaching for Taeros. The man struck aside Roldo's arm and blade with one hand and stabbed at Roldo's face with the other, slashing mainly hair and scalp as Roldo twisted desperately, knowing he was doomed to take the backslash.
Lark hurled herself feet-first into the jackcoat's chest, spinning him away. As she fell on Roldo, Taeros surged up to stand over them and drive back the next jackcoat.
Just behind them, Naoni screamed as a dagger slashed viciously through her sleeve. Her attacker had slipped around the fray, and was now stumbling helplessly forward as Faendra rolled hard into his shins. He grabbed Naoni's shoulder and dragged her down with him, hard, and then stabbed Nothing, as Delopae's knife caught his and held it, quavering, for just long enough as the noblewoman landed on him, for Lark to come scrambling over apples back to the man and sink her knife into his left eye.
Quite suddenly, jackcoats were fleeing into the gloom and there was no one left to fight. The Gemcloaks and their four revel-dates gasped and panted in the gloom, staring at each other.
'Well,' Korvaun gasped, finding breath, 'that was… impressive. Lark, remind me never to stand against you in battle.'
'Aye,' Starragar agreed, 'Well done, Lark and all of you. Quite the warriors… we all are, coming to that. How many-'
'We can count the dead later,' Faendra told him fiercely. 'I want to find my father and get him safely out of all this. Is anyone hurt?'
'If someone'll bind my ready-cloth around my fingers,' Taeros panted, 'I'm good to go on.'
Baraezym screamed suddenly. Roldo and Starragar cursed and flung themselves toward him-in time for Varandros Dyre's last apprentice to bounce limply at their feet and his slayers stalk forward over his body,
