Landyn was in trouble.
Landyn blocked the swing of the first man with the long, dark hair. The others were coming toward him, drawing their weapons. He had to get out of there. The king’s men must be there because Boucher’s men were passing on information about the crates to them.
He parried another blow from the dark-haired man when a second male with a scar across his cheek stepped forward, lunging his blade in low. Landyn swung to deflect the second man’s strike. Both of these men had been at the table when he arrived.
In his peripheral vision, he saw the king’s men approaching.
As the long-haired man raised his sword, Landyn kicked him back and lunged into the scarred man. Landyn’s blade pierced his stomach, but he didn’t have time to watch the man with the scar fall. He pulled his sword free and twisted out of the way of another swing from a third male with a scraggly beard.
He couldn’t defeat five armed men.
The clangs rang through the room. In the hearth, sparks jumped and snapped.
Landyn engaged the scraggly bearded man with a flurry of quick attacks. He had a better chance of defeating him now before the long-haired man got to his feet. But the bearded man deflected all his blows.
The last black-tunicked man with cropped brown hair helped the long-haired man to his feet.
As they joined the fight, Landyn backed behind a table, separating himself from the three black-tunicked men. He glanced over the room. He was battling Boucher’s thugs, but the king’s men were approaching behind them. His hand gripped the handle of his sword tightly, and his breathing came in even gasps. Five men.
The man with the beard jerked to go around the table to Landyn’s right, and Landyn stepped back, but not far enough that the man with the cropped hair on Landyn’s left could strike. The man with the long hair grabbed the edge of the wooden table and tossed it aside.
Landyn threw a chair at the cropped-haired man and parried an attack from the man with the beard. He acted on instinct but was hard-pressed to defend himself against three men. If the king’s men joined the battle, he would have no chance. He had to defeat them before the king’s men joined in. He swung and blocked and struck and deflected. Twisting and turning and constantly moving away from the black-tunicked attackers. He tried to head toward the door, hoping he could get out of the room, but the bearded man stepped into his path.
He pulled back, twirling to lock swords with the cropped-haired man. He seized his wrist and whirled him around, throwing him into the long-haired man. They collided and fell into a pile on the floor.
One of the king’s men rushed toward him, his sword raised above his head.
Landyn dodged the blow and elbowed the man in the face. He turned in time to block a swing from the bearded man.
The king’s man grabbed Landyn around the neck, ordering, “Finish him!”
The bearded man knocked Landyn’s sword aside, sending it flying across the room to land with a clang somewhere on the floor. Then, the bearded man pulled his arm back to run Landyn through.
Landyn grasped the arm about his neck and twisted to the side.
The bearded man impaled the king’s man.
When the king’s man’s grip loosened, Landyn broke free, throwing a punch into the bearded man’s chin.
The long-haired man came up behind him and grasped a handful of Landyn’s hair. He shoved Landyn’s face into the wall.
Landyn’s head rebounded against the wood. His world spun.
The long-haired man tossed him across the room into one of the tables.
Landyn landed hard on the wooden surface, and it collapsed around him, sending him and some mugs crashing to the floor. His vision swam, but he attempted to scan the ground around him for his weapon. He blinked, struggling to clear his foggy mind. Splinters of wood surrounded him as well as broken shards of mugs. He couldn’t find his sword.
A shadow fell over him, and he turned back. He shook his head, trying to free himself from the stupor.
The long-haired man stood over him, grimacing. He spat blood to the side.
Landyn tried to shift backward but could barely lift himself. He attempted to kick the long-haired man, but the man caught Landyn’s foot and tossed it aside as if it were a limp rag.
The long-haired man raised his sword above his head, the tip aiming down.
The flames from the hearth flickered.
Landyn stared at the long-haired man standing over him. Was this how his life ended? Was this the man who ended it? A feeble, untrained thug? He wouldn’t get to finish his oath to John and protect Raven. Strange that in his last moments, he would think of her. The man’s sword appeared frozen in the air. Why wasn’t Boucher’s man bringing the blade down? What was he waiting for?
