The rank and file of the city guard of Montport weren’t soldiers or professional swordsmen… that isn’t to say that they were incompetent at their job, just that this job usually involved dealing with lone ruffians and petty criminals, and quite often they had the benefit of numbers on their side. The physical qualifications of the post focused more on the benefits of an imposing physique than on fighting prowess or agility
The men on the scene outnumbered Tauri and Iskondra handily, but the blade-bonded magus and the skilled assassin had them badly outclassed. Even handicapped by her inability to put her blade to its best and most direct use, Iskondra was able to put men out of the fight. Tauri, unencumbered by any such limitation… well, he’d certainly agree that the less that was said about that, the better.
After dispatching the first few who came down the stairs, the pair entered the doorway, Iskondra first and Tauri behind her. She dueled the guards who were coming down to join the fray, the narrow confines now working against them as it negated their numbers. She couldn’t strike a fatal blow, but that suited her purposes fine as she really wanted them to yield ground. Not knowing that her hand was stayed, they did this readily.
Tauri guarded her back, menacing the recovering guards who might otherwise have struck at her from behind. He could have taken advantage of the situation to do the same and fulfill his contract, but he recognized that Iskondra, with her long blade, had a better chance of forcing a way back up to the street. Once they burst through, they could escape… together or singly.
He wasn’t fussed about which. For all that she was a wizard with a blade, Iskondra Devalion was woefully unskilled in many other areas. She didn’t know how to cover her trail or keep a low profile. If he lost her, he would find her again.
Their tactic was workable, as the guards up top couldn’t shoot down past their own men and would likely break ranks as their fellows fell back. They weren’t a military unit, after all.
But one reason that the guards were not more effective was that the might of Montport was not in its men-at-arms. The bookbinder’s account of the miscreants who’d accosted him in turns inside his shop had not been the most lucid testimony ever delivered to a city watchman, but he’d made one point quite clear: the woman was a renegade mage.
When the men in front of Iskondra stumbled back through the door that led out to the street, the picket of men stationed there did back away automatically to make room for them as she’d hoped they would. Even more, they scattered in a wide berth around her even before she’d finished waving her sword menacingly. She stepped out into the sun, her eyes narrowing against its glare… and then focusing on the red-robed figure pointing a gnarled oak wand at her.
Her response to this sight was confined to one very short word, consisting of a single syllable.
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