Chloe felt the blood drain from her face as she turned pleading eyes on Tomarys. Her toes barely touching the ground, she was trembling.
‘Give my friend the silver,’ the assailant with his arm around Chloe’s neck hissed to Tomarys, ‘or she dies.’
Tomarys’s eyes shifted as he looked from man to man. He was penned in the alley with opponents on both sides. His gaze suddenly shot to the right and Chloe saw a third brigand standing back, arms folded over his chest as he watched.
Making peaceful motions with his hands, spreading them out so they could see he was unarmed, Tomarys spoke. ‘My pouch has only copper.’ He moved slowly to touch the leather vest. ‘The silver is in here.’
‘Get it.’ Chloe’s captor clutched her harder, making her yelp as he pushed his knife harder against her throat. ‘Hurry up!’
‘There is no need to harm her,’ Tomarys said. ‘Here.’ With his right hand he reached into his open vest.
Faster than Chloe had thought a man could move she saw him bring out something small and triangular. He made a flicking motion with his wrist. Steel flashed through the air, on a direct path for Chloe’s head.
The grip around her neck melted away and she heard a gurgling sound. A moment later the brigand behind her crumpled.
Tomarys hadn’t stopped moving. His left hand reached inside the other side of the vest and he took out a small silver throwing knife.
The whipcord-thin man charged, his curved blade held high in the air.
Tomarys weaved around him and pulled his attacker’s extended arm forward, sending the man crashing to the ground. As the last of the attackers realized what was happening and ran forward to help, Tomarys crouched and tossed his knife. It struck the third brigand deep in the center of the chest. With a cry of pain the man sank to his knees and then fell to the side. Blood welled on his clothing and his eyes, staring directly at Chloe, began to glaze.
Turning his attention back to the scar-faced swordsman on the ground, Tomarys walked forward and saw that the sword had fallen out of the man’s hand. He was scrabbling on the ground, reaching for it. Tomarys stamped on his wrist and Chloe winced as she heard a sickening crunch. The swordsman rolled and moaned, staring up at his assailant.
Tomarys bent down and gripped him around the throat. He took the man’s shoulder in his other hand and grunted, his thick muscles bulging. With an expert twist, he broke the swordsman’s neck.
Finally, Tomarys strode to Chloe, staring past her shoulder and nodding in satisfaction when he saw there were no more attackers.
‘Are you hurt?’
Chloe tried to speak but choked. She tried again. ‘No.’
‘Good. Keep an eye out.’
She turned to the body behind her and saw Tomarys pluck his throwing knife from where it was embedded deep in the brigand’s eye. He wiped the blade of the triangular weapon on the dead man’s clothing and then returned it to his vest, before retrieving his other blade from the chest of the other assailant.
The struggle was over in seconds. Chloe was still trembling.
She looked away from the body at her feet as she watched Tomarys returning the last of his knives to his vest.
‘Look out!’ she suddenly cried.
A newcomer ran at Tomarys with sword held high. He must have been hiding around the curve of the lane. Tomarys was unarmed and crouched on the ground. She knew he would be killed.
Glancing up and seeing the danger, Tomarys shot to his feet and spun on his heel as the sword speared the air where he’d been a moment before. His hand was suddenly on the hilt of his enemy’s sword, and then as Chloe watched wide-eyed she saw the point come around until it was in the air. The swordsman cried out in pain.
And then the sword was in Tomarys’s hand.
He didn’t hesitate to strike, thrusting in a practiced way that told Chloe this wasn’t his first time holding a sword. He pushed hard, bringing the blade up into his opponent’s chest, holding grimly until he yanked the weapon out. Blood gushed from the man’s mouth and Tomarys stood back as he fell face forward, sprawling on top of his friend.
Tomarys threw down the sword and turned to Chloe. ‘We need to leave. Now.’
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she shook her head. ‘We can’t.’
‘Did you hear me? This is their place. More will come.’
‘Tomarys, we can’t go. I need the flowers. Please,’ she implored. ‘I need your help.’
He hesitated, aware that every second was precious. ‘All right. Come.’
Stepping past the four bodies, Chloe followed him to the end of the alley, where previously they had seen little more than an opening. They came to a crossroads, an intersection between four lanes, where sunlight overhead revealed a small square and a row of rickety shacks against the longest wall.
Tomarys entered the first of the huts and came out a moment later, shaking his head. ‘Roof fallen in.’