"That'd depend on the warrior, lad," said the ghost in Garric's mind.

"But match you and me together-no, not a one of the beasts!" Klagan snarled, now in real anger rather than merely posturing before battle.

The big chieftain had paused while Garric stripped off his equipment; now he came on again, grunting deep in his throat. Garric found that sound more menacing than the cutting shrieks of the warriors on the city wall. Garric undid the fine-meshed net hanging from the sash of his light tunic and picked up the four-foot wand which leaned against the stake holding his helmet. He strode to meet the catman, grinning in nervousness and anticipation. Of coursehe was going to kill the Corl champion; he wouldn't have made this plan if he'd had the least doubt in the matter. But it was a fight, and Garric had been in a lot of fights. Whatever a fighter told himself, the only thing he could be really certain of was thatsomebody would lose… Garric set the net spinning before him. Its meshes were silk, close enough to tangle minnows and so fine that they looked like a shimmer of gnats in the light rather than a round of fabric. Lead beads weighted the edges.

They were just heavy enough to draw them outward when Garric's hand in the center gave the net a circular twitch. Klagan paused again and hunched, eyeing the net; he'd never seen one being used in a fight before. With another rasping snarl he came on again, but Garric noticed the Corl was edging to his left-away from the unfamiliar weapon. Garric changed his angle slightly to keep Klagan squarely in front of him. Garric cut the air in a quick figure-8 with his wand.