Chapter 39: Masks Part 2
Ithen flew backward as if struck by a charging triceratops. The young warrior skimmed over Trals's head and crunched into the saltbushes.
"Keep your hands up!" Pmhamun ordered, the fool.
"He'll kill all of us," Trals said. "Release me."
"Have I made myself clear?" Chris said in Inglissh, "Or do you need another demonstration?"
Apparently they did. "Don't back down," said Pmhamun. "Block his movement without seeming to attack."
"It won't work," said Trals. "He's found a way around that trap. Now let me talk to him, or die."
"Talk is not what is needed," Pmhamun's hands flexed on his spear, "and he is the one who will die."
Idiot. Trals would have to escape. But first he would need Vritai back. Srav? No. Using her now would kill her. Trals whistled his snatcher away, then said, "You can't possibly defeat this man in combat."
"Why not? You did."
"I am Trals Scarback and you are not. Release me or give me to him, and I will lead you to victory."