Shea put his hand on his sword. «I’d like to see him try it.»
«Foolish man!He is not coming alone, but with a band — six, half a score. Come.» She pulled him toward the door.
«But where’s Pete? We can’t go back without him.»
«Nor can we go back at all if we do not live out the night,» she said, leading out into the dark, silent street. «Pete is doing what he can to gain us time — his singing’s wholly caught them. Hurry!»
«I don’t see what good merely running away tonight will do us,» said Shea. «Wait a minute, though. I can get in touch with Ollgaeth. You’re right.»
There was only one guard at the gate, but he held his spear crosswise and said, «I cannot be letting you out again the night. The Queen has sent word.»
Belphebe gave a little cry. Shea half-turned to see sparks of light dancing, back among the houses. Torches. He swung round again, bringing his sword out with awheep, and without warning, drove a thrust at the guard’s neck. The soldier jerked up his buckler just in time to catch Shea’s point in the edge of the bronze decorations. Then he lowered his spear and drew it back for a jab.
Shea recovered, knocking the spear aside, but was unable to get around the shield for a return lunge.
He thrust twice, feinting with the intention of driving home into an opening, but each time a slight movement of the buckler showed it would be futile.
The soldier balanced, drew back for another thrust, and then swore as Belphebe, who had slipped past him, caught the butt end of the weapon.