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〃No！〃 Pharaun said。 Not yet； anyway。
Ryld pivoted toward the newers and stalked forward。 His eyes were intent yet somehow empty； his face； expressionless； and he seemed indiffernotent to the weapons leveled at his burly frame。 One warrior muttered unnoteasily； as if he'd mistaken the Master of Melee…Magthere for a ghost。 Pharaun knew better； he recognized a deep trance when he saw one。 Evidently his friend had utilized some esoteric martial discipline to keep himself alive。
〃Ryld！〃 Pharaun said。 〃Well met！ I knew you could defeat Houndaer and the rest of those buffoons。 Otherwise I never would have left you。〃
The he sounded thin even to the liar。
Certainly it didn't impress Ryld。 Perhaps in his altered statue of connotsciousness； he hadn't even heard it or recognized his fellow master； either。 He just kept ing。
〃Wake up！〃 the wizard said。 〃It's me； Pharaun； your friend。 I came back to rescue you。 These boys hail from House Freth； and they're our allies。〃
Ryld took another gliding swordsman's advance； still directly toward the Master of Sorcere。
I'm sorry； Pharaun thought； but this time you bring it on yourself。 He drew breath to give the order to shoot； and shapes surged through the three tall arched doorways at the rear of the dais。
In the lead capered several human…sized creatures wrapped in lengths of clattering chain。 They were kytons； malign spirits whom mages could summon and control。 Behind the devils strode the surviving conspirators； and Syrzan in its decaying robes。
Ryld wheeled and oriented on the conspirators。 The rogues shot a flight of whistling quarrels； and the Freth warriors responded in kind。 The renegades had the advantage of their elevated platform； and the solnotdiers； of numerical superiority； but neither volley dropped more than a smattering of its targets。 The batants were too well armored； by metal； magic； or both。
Eager to see if swords would serve where the darts had failed； the Freth soldiers howled a battle cry and charged。 Most of them； anyway。 In his deep； booming voice； Welverin ordered some of the troops back outside to find their way around to the entrances the traitors had used and attack them from the rear。 Not a bad idea； but Pharaun thought the warriors had a good chance of getting lost instead
Whirling loose lengths of chain； eight kytons； each a match for a dozen ordinary fighters； leaped down off the stage to meet the oning foe。 The rogues remained on the platform with Syrzan； where they started renotloading their crossbows with the obvious intention of shooting down into the melee。
Pharaun decided he wouldn't allow that。 He levitated above his notrades； thus obtaining a clear shot at the dais。
He felt a twinge in the center of his forehead； but only for a second。 As he'd expected； Syrzan had attacked first with a psionic thrust； not realizing its foe had warded himself against such effects with apposite talismans and spells。
This time； the Mizzrym thought； you'll have to fight me charm to charm and spell to spell。
To his surprise； he received an answer； a telepathic voice grating and buzzing inside his mind。