Out of Luck

At that moment everything happened in a blur. As soon as the princess dropped from view, her voice rang out like a bell.

"Fireball, attack!"

The stallion needed no further instruction. He reared back, pulling Sir Kent's arm at an awkward angle as the man tried to retain control of the horse. Removing his foot from Ethyn's back and dropping his sword, the pompous knight fought back against the wild creature with all his might.

However, Fireball was not willing to be tamed. He stomped viciously at his adversary as well as the other two men who attempted to come to Sir Kent's aid.

Seizing the moment, Ethyn rolled away from the crazed horse and towards Kent's discarded sword. With only a moment to spare, he cut his bonds and stood ready to fight anyone who came his way.

Looking upward, the redhead tried to spot the princess to tell her to flee. He would hold off whoever he could if only to make sure she got away safely.

No sooner had he cast his gaze upward than a figure reappeared at the top of the wall. Yet, the dainty princess was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a black cloak with an inscrutable hood.

"Silver!" Ethyn called. Never had he been so happy to see the Guardian in all his life.

Without a word, the man in black leapt from his perilously high perch and landed in the cove. The fall would have killed a lesser man, but nothing about the Guardian was exactly normal. He landed gracefully in the grass on one knee, then stood to meet his enemy.

"How is that even possible?" Brig's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. He was even more astonished when a sword materialized from the folds of the mystical cloak.

The man's eyes flashed Silver. "Surrender."

Before Brig could respond, one of the other men leapt at the hooded figure and his companion from the side. Silver did not hesitate.

Lifting his blade, he blocked the man's strike, letting it slip to the side uselessly. In the same fluid motion, he spun his sword around. It dug deep into the man's stomach, pulling a torturous scream from the man's lips. The man went eerily silent as he crumpled to the grass without having landed a single hit.

Ethyn passed Kent's sword to Silver to stow away. "I don't think he should get to keep that." The redhead drew his own weapon, which was a far more familiar and faithful friend. If he was going to have to fight, he would do it comfortably.

Back to back, the two men inched their way slowly to the edge of the cove. Although Ethyn had only seen eight men, there could easily be more keeping guard and they needed to be ready.

Seeing the two men heading out of the enclosure, the soldiers of Lakyle at last retreated from Fireball's attacks. The horse had broken one of their legs, and they saw no reason to fight him further with a much more pressing enemy at hand.

Without turning their backs on the mighty stallion, they moved away with rapid speed, leaving their one comrade to suffer as he attempted to crawl to safety. The four remaining men surrounded Ethyn and Silver.

Anger burned in their eyes as their heads were filled with malicious thoughts. Brandishing their swords, they cursed at their ensnared foes.

"What a gift I have received today! Not one but two of my enemies have turned up. Welcome, Silver! I hope when you made your heroic entrance that you enjoyed it. It will be your last. You will not escape." Kent grinned fiercely.

With his blade held capably in his hand, Silver's shoulders bounced lightly up and down as he chuckled silently. "Escape? Is that what you thought we were doing? We have no intention of escaping."

The soldiers' faces flickered with fear. The confidence in the Guardian's voice was unmistakable.

"I came for one purpose only: capture. The only way any of you are leaving the cove is either in cuffs...or dead...your choice." Silver spun his sword around in his palm, reminding them just how capable he was.

There was a moment of hesitation from three of the men. Only Sir Kent was unbothered by the threat. Having taken a sword from his dead comrade, the knight surged forward, intent on killing Silver with one hit.

The Guardian was ready. Kent's moves were predictable, and Silver twisted his wrist to block the deadly blade from raining down on his head. The blow was still powerful, sending a pulse down Silver's arm as his sword clashed in a rain of sparks.

Disengaging from the knight, Silver ran at the closest boulder, walked up the lower portion of it at full speed, then used and overhang to flip and land behind Sir Kent. The motion was blindingly fast, and only Kent's well trained reflexes allowed him to get the hilt of the sword behind his head in time to keep his neck from being parted in two by Silver's sudden strike.

Instead, the knight of Lakyle managed to gain a deep cut in his hand. His fingers were almost removed from his palm, but he pulled away at just the right moment to keep them intact.

Kent cursed as he spun to meet his opponent, but his words were stopped by a punch from the Guardian's pommel into his throat. Rendered temporarily mute, words were now useless. Only fighting remained. Kent gasped, but refused to give in to the pain.

The two swordsmen backed up to try again, circling like vultures upon their prey.

Steel clashed in a fit of slashes and strikes. From the outside, the feverish motion seemed haphazard, but to the trained eye, the cold and calculating methods to their fighting were frightening. For a moment, no one seemed to be gaining the upper hand. The sight was dizzying.

Concerned by the skill which the caped man put forth, the other three soldiers ganged up on the 'softer target': Ethyn. With no one watching his back any longer, the man had no choice but to continue an ever pivoting circle to keep the three men at bay.

While they were not coordinated, the trio were still a formidable force which pushed the aching Ethyn to his limit. The redhead's stomach and chest still hurt from the blows dealt by Sir Kent, and now his lungs were having to take in oxygen at a much faster rate. The whole feeling was wholly unpleasant.

Add that to the fact that he did not have on his armor to protect him from any of the missed blows, and the young man was getting into an increasingly impossible situation. Ethyn was holding his own, but just barely.

A step to his side caused his elbow to brush up against the rockface. He had no idea when he had gotten so close, but at least with the rock at his back he would be able to focus all his energy forward.

The man furthest to his left thrust his razored edge right into Ethyn's side. Forcing his hips forward, the redhead managed to allow the blade to slip behind, bringing the soldier's body with it.

As soon as the sword passed behind his back, Ethyn threw his body against the rock to pin the soldier's arm against the wall. Then the young knight stabbed at the soldier's stomach, removing the man from the battle for good.

Although effective, the move had left him open to his other two opponents. He hurried to draw his bloodied sword from the man crumpling to the ground.

Ethyn ducked and a sword crashed against the stone, causing a ringing in his ears from the close impact. Barely deflecting the third soldier's clumsy arc, Ethyn had no defense against the sword raking down the rock upon his head.

From above, Brig bore down on Ethyn with a victorious smirk. With the other soldier engaging the young knight's sword, Ethyn had no way to stop the falling blade except his hand.

He lifted his palm helplessly, trying to push against the other man who had him pinned against the wall.

Fighter that he was, Ethyn could not overcome the moment in which he found himself.

As the blade inched closer to his head, Ethyn lamented his fate. His luck had at last run out.