Quinn screamed, her shrill shriek piercing the night air.
The sudden noise did not deter her attacker, and the sword continued in its deadly arc towards Quinn’s prone body. At the last second, she rolled out of the way, hearing a whistle as the blade whistled past. The blade made a dull thud as it impacted with the ground by her ear. Trying to roll farther away, Quinn became tangled in her bedroll. Her arms thrashed as she struggled to free herself before another attack came. Her voice had woken Ross, however, and the giant chamberlain was already scrambling to his knees, sword in hand and eyes darting around to find their foes.
Maertn was awake as well, but his eyes were full of shock, and it was clear he didn’t know what to do next. Kicking down on her bedding, Quinn finally freed herself. She scrambled away on her hands and knees before the next blow could come. She twisted to her feet, and saw with horror that they were being faced down by three of Baron Sammah’s silent mercenaries. No wonder they hadn’t heard them coming. Luckily, Ross was no court pushover, and as a veteran of the wars, was a force to be reckoned with. He barrelled into the attacker who’d gone for Quinn first, tackling him to the ground and beating at the man’s face with the hilt of his sword.
The mercenary crumpled at the blow, though the other two ran in quickly to take his place. Evidently, they had hoped to murder them in their sleep. If this was the case, why just Quinn? Why not all three of them, at once? Three mercenaries for three victims?
Whilst Quinn was relieved they’d made such a basic mistake, she could tell something didn’t ring true. Sammah did not make errors in judgement, and his instructions were never so lax. The two remaining men charged straight for Ross, recognising immediately that he was the only thing that stood between them and their prey. Quinn gulped as she saw Ross grab the fallen mercenary’s own sword, holding one weapon in each hand, he twisted them both expertly. She’d never seen an ambidextrous fighter before. Ross was making it look like child’s play. With only a brief hesitation, the two mercenaries darted at the chamberlain. Ross met them with a cackling laugh that sent shivers down Quinn’s spine. That noise would have been enough to petrify anybody on the battlefield, but it didn’t deter the men; trained since childhood to bear arms and follow the bidding of their sworn master.
Their own silent onslaught would have given most men pause, but set against the berserk laughter of Ross, it made an odd scene. He parried their thrusts with ease, though Quinn could see that he was being driven back, not able to fight forward on two fronts. They had to do something to help. She shouted to Maertn, looking across to see him still wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Quinn squealed in frustration. She looked around their destroyed camp, desperate to find anything she could use to help Ross before he was brought down. Finally, her eyes settled on the dying embers of their campfire. One long branch still stuck out the end of the fire, and Quinn remembered that Ross had been using it to stir the last of the flames. The end of it was starting to go grey and white with ash, but there was still enough heat for it to be a threat as well as a distraction.
Quinn grabbed the cool end of the branch, darting around their camp to try and flank one of the men. They were so focused on Ross that they didn’t notice her move, and didn’t hear her coming. Not really knowing what she was doing, Quinn ran at them with a yell, raising the branch high, and swing it around in an arc at one of the mercenaries’ heads. Not tall enough for a powerful swing that high, Quinn missed, but she did drop the branch as it impacted against the mercenary’s shoulder. Shocked and surprised, the man dropped his sword. This was all the edge Ross needed, and with a triumphant yell, he thrust his sword up into the man’s neck.
The blade bit deep, and the man’s eyes went wide as he fell back clawing at his throat. Blood gushing through his fingers and down his arms. Undeterred, their final attacker went for a killing thrust into Ross's side as he was distracted. This didn’t work, and Ross brought down his borrowed blade to parry easily. Bringing around his now bloodied sword in an upward swing, he slashed across the man’s exposed throat. Quinn, distracted by her help with the attack, let her guard down. The pain of the men slammed into her, and she collapsed to the floor clawing at her own neck. Her vision swam, and she didn’t see the two men thrashing around in death, nor did she see Ross finish them off with a humane kill. All Quinn cared about was the pain.