small open square lit by torches and oil lamps. To their left
was the city wall, to the right the outermost buildings of
the town. The light danced wildly as sources of illumina-
tion were hastily moved to different positions. Shouts and
yells filled the air.
Jon-Tom ducked as a wolf whizzed over his head. It
pinwheeled once before striking the wall with a sickening
thud.
Roseroar’s efforts threw everything into confusion. Horns
and shouts were beginning to rouse a whole section of the
community. Lights were starting to appear in nearby windows
as residents were awakened by the commotion.
Mudge bounced gleefully up and down, pointing at the
evidence of the chaos the tigress was causing. “Wot a
show! The poor buggers must think the ‘ole bloomin’ city
is under attack.”
“Maybe they’re right.” Jon-Tom started forward.
“Hey, you two!” Roseroar called to them as she idly
batted aside a large rat armed with a short sword who had
tried to sneak under her guard. The rodent went skidding
across the paving stones, shedding bits and pieces of armor
and flesh as he went. “Ovah heah! This way!”
They ran toward her. Jon-Tom placed his staff in front of
him while Mudge ran backward to guard their rear, his
short legs a blur. As they ran they dodged spears and
arrows. Mudge responded to each attack individually, and
6O
Alan Dean Foster
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
61
they were rewarded as one figure after another fell from
the wall above.
Snarling, a hyena draped in heavy chain mail headed
right for Ion-Tom, swinging a viciously studded mace over