'But I don't have the amber — yet.'
'Sign this, man,' the demon-to-be said, producing a scrap of sooty vellum. 'With your own blood, of course. It is an agreement to hand over the amber spider when you gain it.'
'If I do so?'
'My knowledge will be your gain. Besides, I will send you help, too.'
That statement piqued Viper's curiosity, but he did not reveal his eagerness to learn about the help. 'You make too much of the affair. It is a simple matter for one such as I to kill a thief, even so clever a burglar as this Blackcat has been.'
The little monster shook its vile-looking head. 'Not so,' he piped back with a nasty leer that displayed the dozens of needlelike teeth in its mouth. 'The one you seek is more powerful than you know, and my soon-to-be- dead master withheld something from you,'
'What?'
'That is my bargaining point, man! I'll tell you what for the gift of the talisman.'
Viper sneered again. 'And the assistance?'
'Simply insurance. If you fail, I don't get the spider, turdhead. That's ample reason for me to be willing to have certain servants assist.'
'Come then, quasidemon,' Viper said, naming the demonling for what it was for the first time.
'You seem to be something I may need. I know what you are and how to deal with you. Produce the agreement, and perhaps we can strike a bargain.'
Gord was returning home in the wee hours. A little celebrating of his newly improved finances had been in order, but he had actually kept it within reasonable limits — and it was good he had. As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he sensed something. It was as if eyes were upon him. Despite that, he stopped only for a moment, as if pausing a minute in drunken fatigue, to gather himself for the arduous climb up the many steps to his apartment on the fifth floor. Someone was watching him from above, Gord knew that.
With a long sigh and a bit of tuneless whistling, Gord began plodding up the stairs. He went slowly and made a production of it. Anyone watching would surely believe that he was tipsy, tired, and vulnerable. The short cape he wore hid the drawn dagger clasped firmly in his left fist, while his right hand rested casually on the pommel of his enchanted sword. Because of that, Gord saw clearly enough.
An unusually large rat was scuttling upward, undoubtedly fleeing his approach. Apparently, nothing worse lurked along the way. Whoever was lying in wait must have decided to ambush him when he entered his chambers. How could they have found this place? Gord asked himself. Perhaps it is a common robber, his brain answered. A dozen possibilities flashed through his mind as he ascended the last flight of stairs, but only one conclusion was logical. Very powerful foes had finally located the den of Blackcat, and what happened next would be a matter of life or death.
'Now where's that silly-sodding key?' Gord said loudly in a crooning, drink-slurred voice as he approached the door to his apartment. His ears detected a faint whispering on the other side of the old planks. It was the noise felt-soled boots made as they slid along hard flooring.
'Open up!' Gord shouted as loudly as he could even as both of his feet struck the door near its latch. He rebounded and rolled through the suddenly created opening while the door slammed and shivered as it struck the inside wall. Another figure was likewise somersaulting away. Too bad. Whoever lurked inside had managed to react with incredible swiftness when Gord had kicked the door in.
Two smaller forms hastened to join the first There were three, possibly more, against him alone.
'Fair odds, lads,' the young thief laughed confidently as he advanced with his sword and dagger ready. He hoped that his seeming aplomb would put off the attackers one way or another. In truth Gord's heart felt like lead in his chest. This was a desperate situation indeed.
The central figure made a waving motion to both sides of him and the two smaller men slid off to his left and right. 'Welcome home, Blackcat.' the tall I fellow hissed. 'I brought you some special guests.' The man issued a sibilant laugh at his little jest.'
'Guests? You are mice playing in the cat's lair!'
'Almost, little pussycat, almost,' the hissing reply shot back. 'Let's say rats, though — with a big serpent to oversee their handling of an offending torn!'
Just then the two men on either side of the assassin made a concerted attack, darting in to stab from left to right. Gord faked left, sprang right, and took the attacker there through chest and stomach with both blades. The rat-faced fellow screamed in pain and tried to get free, but Gord struck again, twice, with the long-bladed dagger, then shoved the corpse around into the path of the other one, who was coming from behind now. This one looked like the brother of the dead attacker, and as he became entangled with the body and fell. Gord made swift work of him so that two forms lay dying and twitching on the oaken floor.
'Most impressive! Those blades you wield are dweomered, too. Our cat has sharp claws.'
'Viper!'
'You know me, Blackcat? How curious. In that case I should have guessed your identity long ago, and all of this would be completely unnecessary. You'd have been dead and rotting weeks ago. But I don't recognize you at all, little man.'
The speech was almost sufficient to distract his attention, but Gord was too good to be totally taken by any such ruse. The sounds from behind warned him, and he vaulted into a series of springs that placed him farther inside his apartment and well away from the entrance. A quick look showed Gord he had done the right thing. At least a half-dozen of the rat-faced men were where he had been but a second or two before.
'Stay there!' The order came from the lanky assassin and was directed at the rodent-faced henchmen. 'I think that it will take a viper, not a pack of rats, to skin this cat.'
'You are very confident,' Gord said to the assassin as he began to close. 'I’ll tiy not to give you too long to regret your mistake. This cat is faster than any adder alive!' So saying, the young thief engaged his tall foeman, and in a series of quick exchanges wounded the man twice without receiving a scratch himself.
'You little bastard!' The last came from Viper as Gord's dagger point slashed fine chainmail and the flesh beneath it. 'Close on the filthy bastard now!' Viper nearly screamed the command. The rat-faced bunch nearby hastened to obey.
The very number of attackers made Gord's situation an impossible one. He could hold them off for some time but there was no hope in the long run. He'd kill a few, but then their sheer numbers would tell; he'd fall in the press, and Viper would finish him with his damned poisoned sword. 'I'll pull your fangs. Viper, before this load of rats finishes me!'
At that, the assassin only laughed. There was little force in the threat, for Gord was now surrounded by the ratmen.
The scene changed in the wink of an eye. One second three of the attackers were before him. The next they were scattered around, one broken where he had stood, another sent crashing through a window, and the last bitten in twain. Even the ice-cold Viper gave a startled gasp at the sudden turnabout.
But it wasn't Gord's doing at all. Like an apparition, there stood in the midst of the melee a giant saber- toothed tiger, its jaws dripping blood from the wererat it had just bitten in half. Even as the assassin vented his cry of fear and the remaining rat-men tried to draw away, the huge cat struck again, as did Gord.
The tiger was upon the remaining wererats in an instant, dealing out death with claw and fang. This beast was the largest of smilodons, the lord of them all. Perhaps one or two of the ratmen would have survived the attack of even so potent a beast as the saber-toothed tiger, but never the attentions of this giant among its kind. The sounds of their dying were not pleasant.
Meanwhile, Gord leaped to confront the lanky killer. 'Now, Viper, we have a more even game — cat against serpent. Shall we see which shall have the upper hand when the play is finished?'
Rather than bothering to reply. Viper sent his sword flying at Gord as if it were a javelin. It was all the young thief could do to avoid the missile, so unexpected was the attack. Before he had a chance to regain his balance from the first onslaught, Gord found he was faced with yet another series of flying missiles. Viper had used his time well, and now his hands were filled with great darts. These he hurled with force at his opponent, and the missiles came in such rapid succession that it took every ounce of Gord's acrobatic skill to avoid their long, envenomed points. A dozen of the things buzzed through the air before the assassin's arsenal was exhausted.
'What now, snake?' Gord had his sword pointed at the assassin's throat as he so inquired.
