“I noticed you wear armor, while I wear only leather,” Riverwind panted.

“An even trade. The weight slows me down.”

One-handed, Thouriss whirled his sword over his head.

The glittering steel seemed to leave a shining trail in the air, so fast did the commander swing it. Riverwind ducked under the spinning blade. He lunged, only to have Thouriss beat aside his attack. He lunged again, steel sliding against steel. Thouriss's serpent eyes widened as Riverwind's sword came at his throat. He stepped into the lunge, hitting the plainsman's blade with his mailed hand. The point passed over his shoulder, and the warriors closed together. Thouriss opened his mouth in a hiss of angry frustration. His two-inch fangs glistened in Riverwind's face.

The ophidian backhanded Riverwind on the jaw. He staggered back, blood running on his chin from where the mail links tore his skin.

“Rahhh-ssssl” Thouriss howled. “Enough play! Now you die!”

Riverwind checked his location. His back was to the plaza pool. Just where he wanted to be.

Di An moaned through her gag. She looked to Catchflea. His eyes were shut and his jaw worked as if in speech. He must be praying to his gods, she thought, and added her own silent prayers to his.

Riverwind flexed his fingers around the sharkskin grip of his borrowed sword. Thouriss was screaming at him. For all his size, Thouriss was not an experienced duelist. Riverwind was counting on that.

Thouriss charged, sword held out in front of him in both hands. Riverwind stepped forward to meet him. They traded cuts and parries-one, two, one, two-until the commander flicked his wrist and hit Riverwind in the eye with the guard of his sword. Blinded, Riverwind stumbled back. He narrowly missed a killing stroke aimed at his blind side. Water lapped at his heels. He was on the very edge of the pool.

The vision in his left eye cleared enough to see a crosswise slash coming from that side. Riverwind blocked it awkwardly. The shock of blade on blade went up his arm. He felt something hot on his arm and saw Thouriss's keen edge had just laid open the skin on his forearm. Blood welled from the cut in rich red beads. The sight of his enemy's blood restored Thouriss's good cheer.

“The wound does not trouble you, I hope?” Thouriss hissed, panting just a bit.

“It's nothing,” Riverwind assured him. Blood ran down his arm, seeping into the gaps between his fingers. River-wind's throat was raw from breathing hard, and his heart throbbed. Strangely enough, he was calmer now. Thouriss was not the perfect fighting machine he appeared to be. Not yet.

The commander wasn't going for wounds any longer. He was closing for the kill. The sunken city echoed and rang with the sound of blade meeting blade. Gully dwarves came out of their hovels and listened. Even the stolid goblin soldiers shifted restlessly as the two enemies battled before them.

Thouriss wound up for a mighty overhand slash. River-wind was so exhausted that he could hardly bring the borrowed sword up to parry. Now's the time. He threw Shanz's sword point-first at Thouriss. The surprised commander altered his attack to bat away the flying weapon. When he did, Riverwind lowered his shoulder and ducked under Thouriss's sword arm. He grappled with the larger creature, wedging a leg between Thouriss's muscled knees and wrapping his arms around the commander's great torso.

Riverwind was a fine wrestler among his own people, but he had no illusions as to how long he could survive against Thouriss's brute strength. The commander howled again, this time with sardonic laughter.

“Embrace me then, warm-blood! I shall break you apart like a dead tree!” he exclaimed.

Gripping Thouriss was like hugging a statue, except this statue had a crushing grip of its own. Thouriss got a clawed hand around Riverwind's forehead and began to twist. The plainsman gasped and grunted, trying to throw his weight against the commander's tangled legs. Thouriss's hissing laugh filled his ears as his head was slowly twisted around.

Somewhere deep inside, Riverwind saw the face of Gold-moon. She had learned he was dead, and though she did not weep, all the sorrow of the world was in her face. He would not let that happen to her! His eyes flew open, and he saw Di An. The elf girl's face plainly showed her own horror.

Riverwind drove his elbow into the small of the commander's back, and Thouriss pitched forward. But he retained his grip on Riverwind's waist, and so both of them plunged into the plaza pool.

The combatants sank beneath the surface.

“Riverwind!” Di An screamed. She had worked her gag off. Catchflea opened his eyes. The water in the pool was always swirling from the currents in the streams that fed it, so there was no way for him to tell where the two had gone under. The goblin soldiers broke ranks and clustered around the pool. Shanz ordered them back to their places.

Thouriss was slow to react to being submerged, but when he did, he panicked. It was as Riverwind had thought: the five-month-old commander, conceived and nurtured by evil magic, could not yet swim. Riverwind had learned to swim nearly as soon as he had learned to walk.

Thouriss let go of the plainsman and tried to kick to the surface. Riverwind wrapped an arm around the commander's legs and held him down. Thouriss thrashed and pummeled Riverwind's back with his fists. His size and power were largely negated by his fear of drowning. He broke his hold on the plainsman and again tried to go up for air. Riverwind got on his back. So strong was Thouriss, that he was able to breach the surface with all of Riverwind's weight upon him. They reared out of the water, Thouriss roaring and gasping for air. Riverwind tightened his arm-lock around Thouriss's neck and dragged him under again.

They sank so deep the water was violet and dark. Jagged slabs of pavement jutted up, adding to the danger. Thouriss tried to impale Riverwind on just such a slab, but the plainsman braced his feet against the stone and pushed away from it. The pressure began to affect Riverwind. His chest, his ears, his head felt as if they were in a vise and someone was cranking it tighter and tighter…

“They've been under a long time,” Catchflea said. The old man had finally gotten his own gag off.

“Is Riverwind a good swimmer?” Di An asked tremulously.

“The finest in Que-Shu,” the old man avowed, though he actually had no idea.

The draconians muttered and mumbled among themselves. The goblins shifted on their feet and kept glancing at Shanz. The draconian captain went to the edge of the pool and gazed into the water. He couldn't see either fighter. He picked up the sword he had loaned Riverwind and returned it to his sheath.

“What shall we do, sir?” one of the draconians called out.

“Keep your places!” Shanz snapped. “It was the commander's order that we not interfere!”

“Thank the gods they obey orders,” Catchflea said in a low voice.

Seconds stretched into minutes. Di An wept in earnest, and Catchflea felt a lump growing in his throat as well. No one, human or reptile, could survive underwater so long.

Finally, Shanz approached. He drew his sword in such a fierce, swift fashion that Catchflea thought he was about to lose his head. Instead, the draconian cut the ropes holding him and Di An to the pillars.

“Are we free?” the soothsayer asked hopefully.

Shanz rammed his sword into its sheath. “I will take you to Master Krago. He will know what to do.” A guard of four draconians surrounded Catchflea and Di An and shoved them along to Krago's private sanctum. Di An kept looking at the pool. The waters continued their giddy swirl, revealing nothing of the fate of the warriors lost beneath their surface.