Part 18 (1/2)

Karl turned to see Ohlmin grinning at him, from a playing area only a few yards away. ”Nicely done,” Ohlmin called out. ”But you're up against me, now. Care to concede, or don't you believe in accepting fate?”

Easya”he's just trying to bait you. to get you angry. Possibly that was how the smaller man had won all of his matches without working up a sweat? He certainly didn't look st.u.r.dy enough to wear his opponents down. Could he be that good? ”No,” Karl said, forcing himself not to pant. He drew himself up straight, not moving from his spot. No need to show Ohlmin how badly he'd limp. ”Why don't you come over here and persuade me, little man?”

A slave ran up with a dirty cloth; Karl s.n.a.t.c.hed it to scrub at his knee, making-sure that he rubbed more of the oily tar on it. Best to try to hide from Ohlmin just how much the battered joint was swelling.

Karl dropped the rag to the sand. ”I don't see you moving. Maybe you're not so good with that stick after all.”

Anger creased the other's dark face for a moment. ”I wouldn't, if I were you.” Superior smile back in place, Ohlmin walked over to Karl's playing area, taking up a position at the far corner of the square.

”Wouldn't what?” Karl moved back a step, wincing at the pain shooting through his leg. As it kept swelling, the pain got worse.

d.a.m.n.

”Wouldn't make it personal.” Ohlmin's face grew somber; he shook his head slowly. ”The last one to make it a personal thing, well, he's chained to a mill in Sciforth.” He pinched his nostrils with the fingers of his free hand. ”By the nose.” Ohlmin dropped his hand and smiled. ”After I beat him on the field.” He stretched out his tar-covered wooden sword, the point almost touching Karl's chest. ”So don't make it personal.”

Karl pushed the point away with his own sword. ”Justa””

Ohlmin slashed at Karl's right knee. Fiery pain shot through it, and Karl's leg buckled beneath him. He fell to the sand.

”Foul!” Khoralt shouted, running up. ”That is a foul!”

Ohlmin eyed him slyly, while Karl struggled back to his feel, his knee burning as though it were on fire.

”My apologies.” Ohlmin gave a quick bow. ”I thought I had heard your command to begin.”

Khoralt hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and pointed toward the exit. The crowd responded with a wave of hissing and shouting. The elf crossed his arms across his chest. ”As I was about to say”a”he gave Karl a sheepish half-smile, probably the only apology Karl would geta””I am tempted to disqualify you. But that would be too harsh, since you made only a simple mistake,” he added quickly. ”Instead, your penalty will be that it will take three hits for you to win, Ohlmin; your opponent will need but the usual two.”

Karl opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. It wouldn't do any good. The crowd wanted to see the final match, and the elf wasn't going to deny the crowd. So let's try to buy a bit of time, give my knee a chance to stop throbbing. ”I'll need a little time, to wipe this mark off.''

Khoralt shook his head sadly. ”No, we must let the match go on. We will remember that there is a false mark on your leggings.” He backed out of the square. ”Prepare to fight.”

Karl flexed his knee. If he didn't put too much weight on it, it would support him. Probably.

”And... fight!”

Ohlmin smiled, and moved in.

In the first few seconds of the match, Karl saw that he was hopelessly outcla.s.seda”and would have been even if his knee weren't swollen. Ohlmin's weaving sword deflected Karl's swings effortlessly, and forced him back, backa”if Karl hadn't backed into one of the poles marking the playing area, he would have stumbled out of the square.

The tip of Ohlmin's sword slithered in and drew a light line across Karl's chest; Karl batted the sword out of the way, slasheda”

Stepping back, Ohlmin parried easily. ”Try again, big man.” He spat. ”I have time.”

Khoralt called out: ”One point for Ohlmin, none for the challenger. Both require two to win.”

Ohlmin paused for a moment. Karl lunged; Ohlmin dodged to one side.

I can't beat him. I'm good with a sword, but he's faster and better.

But d.a.m.ned if I'm going to let him walk all over me.

Ohlmin moved in. ”Give up. You're not good enough; n.o.body is.” He launched an attack that brought the two of them together, corps--corps. Karl tried to push him back, but the smaller man was stronger than he looked.

With a sneer, Ohlmin spat in Karl's face, then whirled away. ”I'd be more frightened of a novice than I am of you. A novice might get in a lucky shot,” he sneered. ”You won't.”

”Shut up and fight.” Although the other was right; a novice might throw his sword or something, or accidentally bounce Ohlmin out of thea”

Got it! Karl threw his sword at the smaller man, flipping it end over end.

Ohlmin stepped smoothly to one side. The sword bounced off a pole and out of the playing area. ”And that isa””

Karl lunged at him barehanded, receiving a wicked slash to the temple before he was able to fasten his left hand on Ohlmin's sword arm, just at the wrist.

Karl squeezed. Ohlmin screamed.

Bones crackled beneath his palm; Karl seized the front of Ohlmin's tunic with his free hand and lifted him off the ground, anda”

”a”two points for Ohlmin, nonea””

a”wobbling on his good leg, Karl raised the twitching form of the other man above his head and threw him as far as he could, out of the playing area. Ohlmin landed with a thump and a strangled moan.

Khoralt smiled at Karl. ”Ohlmin is disqualified, for leaving the playing area. The winner of the swords compet.i.tion isa”what is your name?”

Karl stood up straight. ”My name is Cullinane. Karl Cullinane.”

”The winner of the swords compet.i.tion is Karl Cullinane.” The elf leaned over. ''And if you want some advice, Karl Cullinane, I would suggest you get yourself and your winnings out of Pandathaway.”

Karl smiled. ”Just what I had in mind.”

Whistling to himself, Ahira bounded up the stairs to their suite in the Inn of Quiet Repose, his battleaxe strapped to his chest, and a leather sack well weighted down with gold slung over his shoulder. Between his winnings, Karl's winnings, and what Doria and Hakim would have from having bet on them, it wouldn't be a problem to equip themselves right. And with a bit of luck, the others would soon be through the Gate, and home.

As he pushed through the curtains and into the common room of the suite, he saw Hakim, Aristobulus, and Doria sitting on the rug, coins, jewels, and finger-size bars of gold bullion scattered in front of them.

”Where are the other two?”

Hakim shrugged, a strangely sheepish smile creasing his face. ”Karl hasn't gotten back yet, and Andrea's still in the Library, working on her spell.” He looked from the wizard to the cleric, then shook his head.

Aristobulus nodded; Doria frowned, then snorted.

What was this? From the looks pa.s.sing between the three, it seemed as though they were sharing some private joke. ”Want to let me in on it?”

Aristobulus considered it for a moment. ”I might as well. I didn't go into this last night; I wanted to recheck my calculations first.” He pursed his lips, rubbing withered fingers against his temples. ”Unless I'm sadly mistaken, the Gate Between Worlds won't work quite the way Deighton thoughta”thinks it does.”

”It's not going to get us home?” Ahira almost staggered. You mean that all this has been for nothing?