Arch Wizard

tapestries really caught alight.

Flames rushed up the walls with a hungry roar, racing along the tapestries in a growing, deepening thunder to ignite lesser draperies tied back around pillars all along the balconies.

The knights hacked and thrust enthusiastically at Garfist, blades ringing off his frantic parryings, but Lord Lyrose shouted, 'Knights of Lyrose! Back from him, you fools! Go get the maids and the steward and everyone from the stables, with all their buckets! The rooms back yon are all timbers and paneling! Hurry!''

The knights hesitated, looking to their lord to be sure they'd heard rightly-and Garfist managed to slice the throat out of one of them with a wild, overbalancing slash.

He staggered helplessly, desperate to regain his balance, but the knights were no longer heeding him; more of Lyrose's roared commands were sending them obediently dashing off in all directions. One flung a dagger at Iskarra as he went. She eyed its whirling, oncoming blade, seeing there a blue, sticky sheen no steel should have.

'Darfly poison,' she murmured, deftly plucking the dagger out of the air in front of her nose. 'Nasty.'

The tower door thundered again as guards behind it tried to wrench it open, and the sword Garfist had thrust through its rings resisted them.

Again they tugged, the swordblade bending slightly and shrieking in protest as the door buckled a trifle. A guard ducked between flames to vault down over the balcony rail and run to pluck out the sword from the hall side of the door, and Gar grinned and went for him.

Only to see Lord Lyrose himself charging to intercept his unwelcome guest.

'Burn my home, will you?' he snarled as he came. 'Die, thief! Slayer! Bastard!'

'Well, it's nice to meet a pompous backwoods lordling who's so eloquent,' Gar taunted merrily, slashing aside the running guard's sword and driving his free fist hard into the man's throat.

Choking, the guard reeled, and Gar flung himself across the man's front to get around him and put him in his rushing lord's way, tugging at the guard's sword at the same time. He came away with it as the man spun sideways under his jerking, then hopped, stumbled-and toppled helplessly to the tiles.

The tower door thundered again, nearby.

Lord Lyrose never slowed, trampling his own guard without hesitation to get at Garfist. The splendidly glittering Lyrose sword and dagger slashed out with a deft speed that made the fat, gruff swindler grunt in surprise, and hastily back away.

'Kill him, my lord!' Lady Lyrose shrieked, eyes blazing in fury. 'Kill him!'

'With pleasure!' her husband roared back, adding a bellow of laughter that sank into a grinning sneer as he stalked forward, seeking to corner Garfist.

Across the great hall, the wizard's skull spat magical fire at another running guard, and Gar could see Iskarra dodging, darting, and stabbing with her poisoned dagger at six or seven more who'd rushed in the door she'd opened. Smoke was thickening in the air now as flames reached the roof-beams, and shouting could be heard from all over Lyraunt Castle.

Garfist gave way thoughtfully as his noble foe pressed forward. Well-trained with a blade this Lord Lyrose might be, but the lord was far more gloatingly confident than anyone but an utter fool should be-given that he'd rushed eagerly in to take on Garfist alone, when he could wait for his seeming scores of guards to take care of that slaying for him.

So Lyrose was trusting in something more than sword-skill. Probably magic.

No glowing rings, though the man wore quite a few, heavy gaudy things of gems on gold, and… hoy, now, that gorget looked out of place on a man otherwise unarmored… and it stood in the way of Gar's handy fist downing his lordship as easily as he'd sent yon guard choking and strangling to the floor, too, so…

Garfist sidestepped the next Lyrose thrust, skipping lightly sideways like a Stormar table-dancer to shift his bulk faster than sneering lords would expect. Lyrose gaped at his foe, then rushed to close the gap that had opened between them.

'Die, dolt! I am Lord Magrandar Lyrose-and I am the best swordsman in all Falconfar!' he hissed.

'Oh?' Gar asked mockingly, beating the lord's gleaming blade to the tiles with his own sword. 'That declaration'll look nice on yer casket! Lord Maggot Lyrose, one more idiot who thought himself the best bladesman in the world-but was, of course, wrong about that.'

Their blades rang off each other twice and thrice. Then Lyrose was snarling at him and thrusting viciously, but Garfist caught that splendid sword again with his own rougher blade, forced it down, and leaned deftly in toward the lord. Lyrose brought up his dagger with a triumphant 'Hah!'

But the growling adventurer had timed his lean just right. Lyrose's dagger flashed between his arm and side.

Leaving him easily able to reach the target he sought. He wanted to slash-with more force than elegant deftness-away the lord's gorget.

His blade spun in, under its edge, slicing flesh and straps alike, and sent it ringing and flashing away through the air.

Bleeding copiously from his throat, Lord Magrandar Lyrose staggered back, staring at Garfist in open- mouthed shock.

Whereupon Isk smiled thinly, tossed her newly-acquired, poisoned dagger with her customary skill-and the lord of Lyraunt Castle suddenly sprouted steel in one eye.

He went down to the tiles in silence, two stumbling strides later, leaving Lady Lyrose to shriek out her own rage and rush forward.

For two wild strides before she realized her peril-and abruptly ducked aside, darted across the hall, and out a door.

Leaving Garfist and Iskarra momentarily alone-though ominous cracks were spreading across the still- thundering tower door-as the tapestries blazed on, and flames billowed up everywhere in the ceiling overhead. Unconcernedly the floating wizard's skull grinned at them as shouts arose behind the tower door, and guards boiled back up onto the balcony.

Gar had lumbered forward to loot Lord Lyrose's body of all those golden gem-bedecked rings, but Isk plucked at his arm.

'Come,' she commanded. 'Bring his sword and come. We have a task, up yon stairs, and burning castles have a habit of falling down. I'd rather not be up there when this one decides to collapse!'

'Bah! Always right, y'are!' Gar growled at her, hastily clawing up Lyrose's sword and dagger. Shoving himself to his feet, he took her hand.

Ducking aside from the spears now hurtling at them from the balcony in a quickening rain, they ran for the nearest door.

Malraun found himself rising out of a fading but unpleasant dream of flaming tapestries and rushing guards, to blink up at an unfamiliar ceiling, in silent darkness.

He was lying on his back, linens thrown off him, in a large but sweat-soaked bed-soaked with his sweat-with the bare, beautiful form of Taeauna warm on his shoulder. He was in… oh, yes, the best bedchamber in conquered Darswords.

And he was now thoroughly awake.

Though his head ached cursedly and he felt as tired as if he'd not slept a wink. Lyrose had… had what?

Something had flared in his mind. Falcon rend all.

With a grunt of disgust that awakened Taeauna, he rolled over and away from her. 'Idiots,' he growled into the darkness. 'If that castle burns, I'll lose all I've hidden there, and the Lyroses besides. And I've plans for them.'

Ignoring Taeauna's reaching, soothing hand, he angrily clambered out of the bed, strode naked across the room until he was far enough from where his clothing and carried magics were all heaped together, and worked a swift spell.

Light flared briefly around his limbs, leaving him a glimpse of Taeauna kneeling on the bed staring at him in