So not only was he forced to maintain his grip, but he was compelled to strengthen it with the addition of his free hand. Berserker and hammer together, the one whistling and the other howling imprecations, rose into the cloud-free sky. Ehomba watched until giant and giant’s weapon were a blot, then a dot, and finally a speck of indeterminate dust soaring over the southern horizon. Then he took a deep breath and started to shake.
“By Gowerben’s footsteps, that’s putting the arrogant assassin in his place!” A sweaty but elated Simna ibn Sind bounded down from the rock on which he had been standing and rushed to congratulate his companion. “Maybe it’s as you say that you’re no sorcerer, long bruther, but it’s a master of unexpected gifts you are! I only wish that—”
The herdsman whirled on his friend with a fire in his eyes that for the barest, most intangible of instants exceeded that of the black litah. Rising and descending, his closed fist caught the swordsman flush on the side of the face. The report was loud enough to reach Hunkapa Aub and Ahlitah, who with the battle won were descending to rejoin their human companions.
Reflexively, Simna started to bring up his weapon even as he fell backward. Despite his shock, he caught himself halfway through the gesture. He landed hard on his thighs and backside. Not content with having delivered the blow, Ehomba strode forward until he was standing over the fallen swordsman. Glaring down, he shook a long finger in his friend’s face. The hallucinatory blaze that had momentarily flared behind his eyes had vanished, but he was so furious that he trembled as he spoke.