was sitting cross…legged a few yards down the aisle。
The Tuin'Tarl instantly pointed his crossbow。 Indeed； he nearly pulled the trigger before he took in all the details of the scene。 His former teacher sat motionless； his eyes shut。 To all appearances； he was unconscious； or in any case oblivious to the advent of his foes。 Master Mizzrym was nowhere to be seen。
Ryld's passivity left Houndaer unsure as to the best course of action。
Should he and his minions summarily dispatch the spy or seize the opnotportunity to take him prisoner？ If the weapons master was dead； he couldn't tell them what had bee of his partner。
Then the noble realized that while he'd stood pondering the matter； Tsabrak had drawn back his bow string and sighted down the arrow。 Houndaer lifted a hand to signal him to desist； then thought better of it。 Master Argith was a superb warrior even by the standards of Melee…Magthere。 That was why； when a student； the Tuin'Tarl had admired him so； and had been so eager to recruit him。 Perhaps it would be wiser to kill him while they had the chance。
Besides； Houndaer was reluctant to risk the vexation of giving Tsabrak an order and having it ignored。
He lifted his hand crossbow。 He and the drider took their time aiming； and why not？ Ryld was still unaware of them。
Tsabrak released the string； and Houndaer pulled the trigger。 The shafts leaped at the still…motionless weapons master。 The noble had no doubt the two missiles would suffice。 They were flying true； and the heads were poinotsoned。 It was strange and vaguely unsatisfying to dispatch a master of war so easily； as if it was vengeance on the cheap。
Then； when surely it was too late to react； Ryld moved。 He twitched himself out of the way of the crossbow quarrel and caught the hurtling arrow in his hand。
Swiftly； yet somehow without the appearance of haste； the weapons master flowed to his feet and advanced。 His bloody thigh didn't hinder him in the slightest。 His face and eyes were empty； like those of a medium awaiting munion with the dead。
His voice pitched deep； Omraeth sang a quick rhymed couplet。 Power glittered through the air。 Evidently the spell was supposed to afflict Ryld； but as far as Houndaer could observe； it didn't。 The huge male just kept ing。 Tsabrak loosed another arrow； and the teacher slapped it out of the air with his broadsword。
Tsabrak and Houndaer dropped their bows and drew their swords。 The drider spat poison on his blade。 They'd engage Ryld while he was still in the cramped space behind the seats with no room to maneuver。 Omraeth took up a position behind his rades； where he could augment their efnotforts with bardic magic。
Houndaer felt a pang of fright and willed the feeling away。 He had nothing to fear。 It was three against one； wasn't it； and the one had no mail。 Indeed； by the look of him； he might not even have any wits。
Except that then he proved he did。 Ryld touched the vertical surface that was the back of the steps。 He summoned darkness； blinding his foes。
Houndaer hacked madly； and sensed Tsabrak doing the same。 Darkness or no； when the spy lunged forward； they'd cut him to pieces。 Their swords split nothing but air。
After a few seconds； Omraeth shouted； 〃e back this way！ Now！〃
Houndaer and Tsabrak turned and blundered their way toward the sound of their rade's voice。 The drider's envenomed sword bumped the Tuin'TarPs arm； but fortunately without sufficient force to penetrate his armor and piwafwi。
When Houndaer stumbled out of the murk； Master Argith was in the center of the salle。 Under the cover of darkness； he'd made it to the top of the steps and bounded down the other side。 He had a good chance of reaching the exit unchecked。
He didn't take it； though。 Standing in the center of one of the faintly lunotminous circles； he settled into a fighting stance。 He hadn't scrambled over the steps to flee； rather to reach a battleground more to his liking。
Houndaer swallowed away a dryness in his mouth。 Ryld hadn't the sense to run？ Well； good。 Then they'd kill him。
The noble and drider fanned out to e at the Master of Melee…Magthere from opposite sides。 Omraeth hung back and menced annotother song。
Advancing to meet his adversaries； Master Argith glided through the first of three moves…parry； feint high； slash low…of one of the broadsword katas he'd taught Houndaer back on Tier Breche。 The noble discerned an instant too late that the purpose was to distract attention from the crossbow in the weapons master's other hand。 The dart plunged into Omraeth's throat； ending his song in an ugly gurgle and dissipating the charged heaviness of arcane force accumulati