“Pank! pank!” the arrows resonated before falling into the grass and out of sight. The archers standing shoulder to shoulder were almost upon them when Hoxley’s spear flew through the air to drive itself into the ground at a diagonal angle. They never saw it fly in from their blindside and bury itself a foot in front of them. The archer on the right caught the body of the spear across the chest, getting the wind knocked out of him while the one on the left got caught up at the lower leg and went sprawling. The third soldier saw where the spear came from and wasted no time in charging her, his sword reared for a diagonal strike. Hoxley was afraid but swallowed the fear to keep her wits about her. She backed away a few steps to make some room before the sword started its arc. The blade cut the air but found no flesh or bone to sate as Hoxley met the swing with her forearms raised in an “X” across her body. Her lyythium armguards stopped the blow and the second and third that followed, singing out each time like as busy blacksmith’s anvil sings on a cold winter morning. The soldier continued relentlessly hacking time and again to strike her down.

  “Stay back!” She tried to caution him. “Stay away!” Her warnings fell upon deaf ears, and he followed on hungry boot steps pursuing as she backed away to stay out of reach. But the power behind his swings lost their ferociousness to the arcane properties of the light blue material glancing the blade.

  Not far away, the archers were on their feet once more but already being advanced upon by Atticus with his huge shield and the prince and mushroom collector following close behind his girth.

  “Put it here, you green little harp pluckers!” Atticus taunted as he slapped the blade of his sword across his chest. “Put in the heart unless you want my sword upon you.” A pair of arrows shot straight and true before Atticus’ shield raised just in time to deflect them into the grass. “Try harder, try again!” he shouted. The archers stalled their advance and began to back away as the mountain of the man drew closer. Once steady hands became unnerved and fumbled with quivers to pull more projectiles to fire. Some even spilled out and fell to the ground. “That’s it!” Atticus huffed as he picked up a faster pace to close the distance between them. “That’s it, give us another!” His approach unnerved the first archer enough that he not only failed to nock his arrow but dropped it entirely before turning to retreat. The other’s arrow was almost nocked when a flurry of bats descended from the sky and swarmed about his head. Frightened and flailing to keep them away from his face, he became defenseless and had to time to evade the mammoth hand swinging in at his face. What made the punch even more devastating was the solid sword hilt in Atticus hand that made it even more solid. So powerful was the blow that the man’s feet left the ground as his bow tumbled away. As the other archer retreated, a black shadow dropped down upon his shoulders, crumpling him into the dirt.

  Morell peered to see what had felled the soldier. He sprinted as fast as he could to catch up only to discover the shadow was hunched on top of the man and topped with a pointed, wide brimmed hat, black frizzy hair and pale skin. Looking down at the soldier, he was completely unconscious.

  “Siouxsie?” he asked. “What did you do to him?”

  “Gallows strike,” she said with a wide smile. “It’s an attack where you hop off your broom ten feet up and land with your feet on either side of the neck where it meets the shoulders. Incapacitates your enemy but doesn’t kill them. It’s painful but not lethal.” To their right, more strikes like that of a blacksmith’s anvil cut the air. “Hoxley’s still under attack!” he said as he collected Hoxley’s spear from out of the ground. “We have to help her, come on!”

  Not far away, Hoxley continued to deflect the blows of the scout’s shorty sword with her arm guards. Her long legs kept her out of range as she backed away and ducked behind trees to keep the man from making a clear strike. He was getting winded; tired and sloppy, making careless glancing blows.

  “Surrender.” She told him. “My friends are coming. Your allies have fled or failed you. Give up and I promise you won’t be harmed.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “I’m not going to rest until I’ve brought that murderous prince to justice!”

  “Murderous?” asked Hoxley, deflecting his heavy blow into a tree where the blade embedded itself in the bark. “Prince Damron has done nothing but flee for his life since his uncle murdered the king and seated himself as ruler!” The scout pulled once, twice, but the blade would not free itself.

  “Lair!” shouted the man. “I’ve seen and heard what you’ve done to those who’ve tried to bring him to justice, Hoxley of the plains!” Hoxley’s eyes went wide with surprise from the sound of her name. “Surprised we know who you are?” he asked. The scout took advantage of her being off guard to land a fast booted kick just below her navel, causing her reel from the strike as she grimaced. With the extra space between them he put that same boot against the tree and managed to yank his sword free. “We know who all of you are.” He snarled, stalking her again. “The red-haired boy, the filthy pirate, those accursed witches, the prince and his royal footman… you’re all going to hang before Lord Baltus for the crimes you’ve committed.”

  “We’ve…committed no crimes.” Hoxley winced from the pain in her abdomen. “And the prince has done nothing but flee for his life.”

  “Ahoy, hoxley dear!” said a voice from behind the man. He turned just in time to see a short sword being pitched over his head by the pirate with the mustard and blood-stained colored vest. The sword tumbled end over end toward the faun girl only for her to snatch it out of the air. Its blade flitted about as she flicked her wrist to acclimate to its weight.

  “There, now.” She returned a devilish grin as she leveled it with the tip pointed at his nose. “A fight is truly fair when both combatants are equally armed, yes? Defend yourself if you can.” Hoxley took the offensive. She made a fainting swing to one side to get him to commit but once he had swung to connect, she flipped the blade down and around the outside of her wrist and pushed the blade closest to the hilt against his in the same spot. His own blade bucked and stuck him against the cheek and ear causing him to shriek and drop his weapon as his hands pressed against the wound. It was during this time that the other companions drew near, Atticus dragging along their prisoners as well as hefting Robert in his hammock. Siouxsie approached, carrying Hoxley’s spear and handed it to her as she in turn gave her short sword back to Loxo.

  “Good heavens, Hoxley.” The pirate exclaimed as he squatted down to get a look at the wound on the man’s face. “Ferocious today, aren’t we?” Fear took the scout and looked as though he was about to make a break for an escape when Morell thumped his mace square in the center of the soldier’s chest to pin him to the spot. Hoxley’s spear tip rested upon the man’s leather armor as well.

  “That’ll be enough.” Atticus growled. “Be still and you may live.”

  “This is terrible.” Hoxley admitted to the others. “This man claims that he and the rest of the king’s men were told that Prince Damron is the one who assassinated his father.”

  “That’s a lie!” shouted the prince as he pushed past Atticus and Siouxsie to stand over the soldier. “Who has told you such a falsehood?”

  “The word came from King Baltus himself!” he said, trying to hold the fabric of his shirt next to the cut to try and stop the bleeding. “It was by him we were told what horror the prince and his footman had committed while the elder king slept!”

  “YOU…LYING…Bucket of scum!” The prince said, striking the man in the face which made his scream again. “I did nothing of the kind! IT WAS HIM, YOU MISERABLE…” So enraged was the boy that he pitched his shield aside and straddled the man attempting to choke the life from him.

  “Easy there, your highness.” Hoxley said, pulling him back. “He’s a foot soldier, he only knows what he’s seen and been told.”

  “Quite right, Hoxley.” Said Loxo, already sifting through the man’s pockets and relieving him of his coin purse. “He could have a map or orders or something on his person that may be more valuable.”

  “You will tell me what you know of Lord Baltus’ plans!” Prince Damron scowled, pulling his sword.