Under Fallen Stars

Jherek stood, glancing back at his companions. Glawi

Sabyna's knife flashed out, driving an opponent back. Her lack of formal training in swordplay held her back some, but her skill with her throwing knives was deadly. She blocked another sword slash and stepped inside the blow, then raked her blade across the man's face. Blood flew as the pirate threw himself backward. At her side, the raggamoffyn swirled into a sudden mass of whirling cloth fragments and sped at another pirate.

Parrying a sword thrust, Glawi

Hesitation held the young sailor only for a moment. He didn't want to desert his friends, and didn't like the idea of leaving Sabyna to fend for herself at all, but in the end if he didn't reach his objective, he'd risked their lives for nothing.

A pirate came at him, sword splintering the afternoon light. Jherek parried with the hook, then brought the cutlass down onto the man's head, splitting his skull. He kicked the dead man backward into another pirate, knocking them both clear of the door. At a dead run, the young sailor caught the doorway's edge with the hook and pulled himself around it.

On the landing outside, Jherek peered over the railing and watched as Vurgrom bounded around the second story landing where the steps switched back the other direction. With the surefooted grace of a man used to navigating rigging in hostile winds and blinding, storm-driven rain, Jherek leaped over the edge and landed on the railing slanting down toward the second story.

When he hit, the wood cracked ominously and he knew it wasn't going to hold him even as he realized he was past Glawi

A bare-breasted serving wench carrying a platter of food and a pitcher of ale cursed at Vurgrom as he went by, then she turned into Jherek. Already a victim of his downward momentum caused by the treacherous railing, Jherek couldn't stop. He thought quickly enough to throw the cutlass and hook out to the sides so he didn't endanger her, which left him going face first into her.

There was a moment of confusion as they fell in a tangle at the foot of the landing. The platter of food went flying while the ale pitcher shattered against the wall. Jherek ended up face first against the serving wench's well-cushioned charms. He managed to prevent his full weight from falling on her by catching himself on his knees and the fist around the hook handle.

He pulled his head up from her breasts, the fragrant rose scent of them filling his nose. His face flamed in embarrassment.

"Lady," he apologized as he pushed himself up, "I'm truly sorry." Awkwardly, knowing there wasn't any time for anything else, he pushed up and resumed his chase, drumming his boots against the steps.

At the base of the stairs, Jherek ran through the coral shell stringers that made a partition from the steps leading into the main tavern. Vurgrom stood near the entrance, his face showing agitation and the fact that he recognized Jherek. The pirate captain leveled a thick forefinger in the young sailor's direction and shouted, "A hundred gold to the man who guts that bastard!"

Instantly, nearly every man in the tavern surged to their feet and drew weapons. Vurgrom gri

"Been nice knowing you, boy, but you signed your own death papers coming here after me." He made an obscene gesture, then pushed through the door out onto the street.

Nearly half the tavern got up and followed Vurgrom, letting Jherek know the pirate captain had stationed men downstairs as well as upstairs. At least forty men came at Jherek with drawn swords, eager to cash in on the pirate captain's offered bounty.

Jherek watched helplessly through the paned windows as Vurgrom disappeared, heading down the incline toward the harbor. Stubbornly, the young sailor held his ground with the beaded strings covering the doorway at his back.

A woman to his left cursed and stood suddenly, sweeping back the hooded cloak that had covered her face. Tall and slender, her silky black hair hacked off evenly just below her shoulders, her pointed ears visible, she wore a rough green shirt that was loose enough to disguise her sex, and scarred leather breeches tucked into high-topped boots.

She grabbed the chair she'd been sitting in and hurled it toward the front of the crowd gathered in front of Jherek. The chair hit two men and knocked them backward into the others.

"Back, you damn slime-sucking bottom-feeders, or I'll fillet you myself!" she cursed as she drew a scimitar and dirk, then rushed toward Jherek.

The young sailor turned to face her, lifting his cutlass.

"Not me, you brain-dead ni

Jherek kept his blade up, wary that she could be attempting to trick him to get close enough to put a blade between his ribs." Ware now, lady," he warned. "I don't trust so easily."

"Azla!" someone in the crowd shouted. "Azla of Black Champion is here!"

"Kill her," another man roared. "Vurgrom's bounty on her head is a thousand gold pieces!"

The half-elven woman's brows arched in anger. "You'd better pick sides quickly, boy." A half-grin played on her face, but it was cold as a moneylender's heart. "I'm worth more dead than you are and I don't intend to die without trying to escape. You're standing in the way."

"Aye," Jherek replied, watching as the crowd regrouped, "but there was a mess left upstairs as well."

Azla glanced back at the tavern crowd and knocked a thrown dagger from the air with the flat of her scimitar. "Our chances of escape have got to be better there than here."

Jherek nodded, hating to lose Vurgrom and not certain what they were going to do even if they made it back up the stairs. He pulled the beaded strands to one side.

"No," Azla said. "You first." She spoke like one used to command.

"Aye." Jherek turned and raced back to the steps, waiting for her.

Azla reached for the pouch at her side and stuck enough of her arm inside it that Jherek knew it was a bag of holding. She removed a small flask, handling it carefully.

"Keep moving," she ordered, then flung the flask at the doorway as two men shoved their heads through.

The flask tumbled end over end and struck the floor, shattering and spreading slow moving oil in spots and a pool. Immediately, the oil caught fire. The flames spiraled up at once, and the spots that had landed on the two men charred holes in their clothes. They yelled in terror and pain and began beating at their clothing, but it only served to spread the flames. The fire in the doorway rose up four feet high.

"Run," Azla directed. "I don't have any more of that ensorcelled oil with me."

She sprinted after him as they ran up the first set of stairs. Three pirates were coming down, fleeing from Glawi

Jherek reached the corner of the landing first and blocked the man's sword with his cutlass. The other two men ran into the first, and all of them struggled to keep their balance. The young sailor kicked the first man in the chest, pressing his own back against the wall to get everything into the effort he could.