The Scourge of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood #3)

The boy struggled suddenly, wriggling like he was made of nothing but slippery eels, but the knight clenched hard and steadied him.

“If thou hurts him,” Huette warned angrily, seizing the knight by the collar, but he shoved her back.

“Lia,” the new arrival said in her native language. His voice carried through the inn. “We know you are here. You were foolish to stay in one place so long. There are five of us, girl and Dieyre has already warned us what you are capable of. He does not wish you any harm. He only seeks to speak with you. Come with us and then you will be at liberty. I give you my word, Lia.” He squeezed Jouvent’s arm so hard the boy yelped with pain.

Lia stood fully in the corner where she was concealed. Already Huette and Jouvent had sacrificed for her. “I am reassured by your promises,” Lia said tartly. “I know full well the earl of Dieyre is a man of his word. When it suits him.”

The five turned and faced her. They each wore chain hauberks, covered by the tunics of their master, as well as black velvet capes. The one holding Jouvent leered at her. “Well, it is true. But he informs us that you were wounded severely not long ago. That your hand might still be mending and your leg. You seem hale to me, though. As I said, he only wishes to speak with you.”

“I come willingly,” Lia answered, sighing, and approached them. They seemed to watch her warily. She looked at each of their faces, at their smug presumption that any one of them could outmatch her. They were servants of the best swordsman in seven kingdoms, so they had a reputation at least to uphold.

Jouvent shook his head warningly at her, his eyes quailing with fear and pain.

Lia’s stomach wrenched with knots as she approached the knights. She knew she had to be unpredictable – throw them off their guard. She glanced towards the nearest window and wondered if she would have the strength to break it as well as fling herself out of it in time. The scattered tables and chairs would assist her, offering cover and opportunities to distract them. She had absolutely no intention of going with them.

“That is wise, lass,” the leader said, his chin and neck thick and muscled, but he was clean-shaven.

As she approached she gave Huette a reassuring gesture. “I thank thee for thy hospitality,” she said in port speech. Then she looked at the man holding Jouvent and said simply, “It is a wonder, captain, that you only brought five.”

“Why even bring five when only one will do?” he replied tauntingly. His eyes suddenly glowed silver and that was when she noticed the whorl of tattoos crawling up his neck.

His will reached out and clamped around her mind, sending a gush of fear and panic inside her heart. It swelled her anxiety a hundred fold, and even though she knew her emotions were being manipulated, the feelings were real – like a night terror that will not fade after waking.

Lia stomped on the nearest man’s foot, so hard and so sudden she felt his bone snap, and he howled with pain and dropped to the floor. Whirling as fast as she could, she dropped low into a crouch and bashed another knight’s manhood with her fist and as he crumpled, she reversed the blow, bringing her knuckles up as he bent over, smashing his nose. Already two were incapacitated, but the other three had managed to draw their blades and fan out around her.

“Do not kill her!” the leader said, his eyes glowing. His will crushed against hers, trying to force her to cower before him. It may have worked on a weaker person. It may have worked on every other person he had used his kystrel against. Though she experienced the surge of fear, it did not overcome her.

She drew her gladius and dagger in a fluid motion. “Do not expect the same terms from me,” she said threateningly, hoping he would not hear the tremor in her voice.

The leading knight shoved Jouvent roughly away and came at her hard and fast. Lia deflected his blade with the gladius and stepped around him, keeping the others from getting behind her. She kicked a chair over and moved again, forcing them to adjust to her actions.

“You are quick witted, lass,” he said. “But I will wear you down. We have all night to play this game. They say you bested a kishion at Muirwood with nothing but a dagger.”

Another knight lunged at her, grabbing her arm. In a moment, his strength would overmatch her, but she had been trained by the Evnissyen and knew what to do. While twisting her arm hard and down, she struck his hand with the sword pommel and broke his grip. She cut his cheek as he backed away and nearly took his eye with it. He snarled with pain and jabbed his weapon at her. Lia caught it between her gladius and dagger, slid her longer blade up its and sliced his hand open. He dropped his sword.