The first man to come at him had been wielding a woodsman's axe. Its socket head was heavy against his shield. he braced himself against the shock and then plowed a knee straight into the man's pelvis.
He jumped back, scrambling to get room enough to draw his hanger. Someone went down with an arrow in them. And then Vedette was unleashing some sort of flurry. Not as carefully aimed as she should have been, but in close locked quarters it was hard to miss. Another man went down with a broadhead through his guts.
Someone was on top of him as soon as the sword cleared its scabbard. A big bastard, all wrapped in furs and gin stench. Ithacles got his shield up in time to catch a thrusting kick. It knocked him back into the unforgiving jagged rock. His muscles tightened wtih pain.
He lashed out with his hanger and intercepted an old chipped broadsword. Kicked the man in the kneecap. The heavy hillman went down onto the stone.
Ithacles raised his sword to finish him off when something enormous happened. The sun was there, in the cave. Gigantic and orange and so bright that he went blind for a moment. That's all he knew, was that somehow, the sun itself had come to watch their fight.
What was actually happening: the fire mage had thrown a bolt of hellfire straight at Vedette.