Two-hundred and forty fishermen, all with crudely shaven heads, sat along the shore while Morgul assessed them. His men patrolled the harbor. They tossed rusty tools into a pile by the sand banks. The wind from the ocean rusted the dried grasses off the beach. Lord Nostrum sat in the center of the group with his leg folded, back hunched over. Wavy blonde hair floated somewhere in the bay.

  Captain Morgul scanned the prisoners. He hadn’t bothered to ask that despicable imp man about Nostrum. This oversight would have him punished by Lord Sarsin if discovered. He knew Lord Nostrum fished with his men and he most likely sailed the Quagmire. But somehow, the fishing crew learned of the attack. They gathered here when his force arrived. The boats had already been disembarked.

  “I see you think yourselves clever. Well, I know your lord is among you. I demand he stand up like a man and accept his fate.”

  Nobody moved. The crew stared at him before returning their attention to the sand.

  “One hundred gold tethers to the man who gives me Lord Nostrum.”

  They continued looking down. Rigvan received a nod from his captain. He rode to the outskirts of the group and thrust a thin spear against a bare chest.

  “You’re a young man, is your father here?”

  The man refused to speak.

  “Does he have family? Because they should know that I’m about to take his life if Sir Nostrum continues his cowardice.”

  “He’s not with us!” cried an old man.

  “Lies!”

  Rigvan raised his spear.

  Lord Nostrum resisted Deagle’s attempts to pull him down. Captain Morgul and his two lieutenants surveyed their prisoners from horseback with careful attention.

  “Stop! I’m Lord Nostrum. Don’t harm my citizens!”

  Nefri and Darrell snuck in from the outskirts of the harbor. They witnessed everything. Nefri crouched behind a junk pile; Darrell crawled and rolled through the sand to hide behind a nearby boat. As he brushed himself off, Nefri climbed the pile and surveyed the situation. Darrell begged her to stay unseen with a frantic whisper as she pulled the spear from across her back.

  “Are you really Lord Nostrum?” Morgul shouted, “That’s a bad look for you.”

  “I am. Your business is with me, leave these men alone. They’re simple fisher folk who know nothing of war.”

  “Lord Nostrum, why leave your village defenseless? Did you think your poverty would spare you? Come here and face my blade for your stupidity.”

  Nostrum approached without hesitation. Sand shifted beneath bare feet.

  “On your knees,” Morgul commanded.

  A long sword with a finely polished blade withdrew from the sheath besides Morgul’s horse. He raised it over Lord Nostrum’s head.

  Licking her lips, Nefri focused on Morgul’s head as she tossed her bronze spear like a javelin. It flew with uncanny precision for twenty-eight meters. The tip of Nefri's spear hit the steel as it swung. CRACK!

  The sword deflected. Morgul dropped it. It fell into the sand and stood by the blade. Nostrum caught the spear, knocked Morgul off his horse with the pommel, and pinned his chest against the sand.

  "Think twice next you call a village lord weak."

  Six sword wielders rushed toward the junk pile to confront Nefri. She dove underneath their attacks until they were behind her. Crouching, she kicked two men behind their knees with a twirling low kick. It threw them off balance. Nefri quickly stood and knocked their heads together; the men fell unconscious.

  Four guards remained, two attacking from either side. Nefri slid to the left and took a man by the legs. She swung him around in a circle. The katana he clung to swung with him; he became a whirling blade. When Nefri let go, he released his sword. It flew into the chest of another fighter. The remaining guard dropped his sword and begged for mercy by grovling in the sand.

  Lieutenant Meerin sneered. A diminutive mace slammed into the surrendering guard’s back. Nefri looked to the fishing crew. With Morgul pinned and so many of their enemy taken out, the prisoners tensed. Nostrum remained standing atop Morgul, which kept the two lieutenants at bay for now. One by one, the fishing crew stood.

  “Retreat from the beach and get to town!” Nefri warned, “You have no idea what those two are capable of!”

  They chose to charge the two lieutenants, who remained on horseback and kept some space before them. Meerin flung a spiked iron flail. Rigvan jumped to stand atop his horse’s saddle with acrobatic ease. He sliced with a pair of silver daggers.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "Listen to her! Run!" Nostrum commanded.

  The pressure from the pummel of the spear slackened as Nostrum turned to scold his men. Morgul grabbed the spear and fought for control. His leg curled, then struck the bare chest with a powerful kick. As Nostrum lost his grip, Morgul kicked him to the ground with his other foot. Nostrum found himself pinned between the blade and the sand.

  “Don’t let them massacre my people!” Nostrum shouted.

  Nefri jumped between the fishing crew and Morgul’s lieutenants, only to be ignored. Rigvan and Meerin split up and attacked the disorganized crew from opposite sides. Rigvan's daggers sliced for open necks. Nefri kicked two men out of their way, bruising their ribs but saving their necks. She somersaulted to the other side of the crowd to redirect a flail with a chop and a kick. Her hand cracked. Flesh bulged in protest. She ran across the formation and kicked Rigvan’s horse. His loss of balance saved another pair from his daggers and forced his momentary retreat.

  Before she could deliver a finisher against Rigvan, Meerin yelled a curse. Three diminutive flails flew at another group. Nefri leapt to deflect the projectiles with her fists. But when she threatened Meerin, Rigvan whistled. The hostage from earlier proved barely able to dodge knife swings. In this way, they toyed with her. Nefri darted back and forth to defend men with no hope of a fair fight. It drained even her stamina.

  Morgul smiled, “Your mercenary wench thinks she can save everyone. And did you honestly think the likes of you could pin me down? You lost by not taking the kill. Those are your final mistakes.”

  The bronze spear pierced Nostrum. The dying leader lifted. Liquid flowed down the weapon. Morgul steadied the spear with one hand as the weight of Lord Nostrum hung from it. Wind swirled with a spray of sand. He tossed the spear back to the debris pile with a grunt. Nostrom landed on his back atop of the rusty tools. The spear pinned him.

  Darrell crept toward him. His heart was still beating and he could still feel breath. Afraid to pull out the spear, Darrell tore his shirt and pressed it around the wound. Two sword wielders Nefri knocked unconscious earlier revived, sat up and stared. The man she flung searched for his sword. Morgul laughed as he retrieved his long sword and pointed it at Darrell.

  “Mercenary! Why tend your dead master when you can fight me? I see you have a sword.”

  “Fine,” Darrell's knees shook, “I guess if everyone else is going to die, I might as well join them.”

  “Pity. You’re not a mercenary I take it. Just another weakling, aren’t you? I’ll let my men have the honor of keeping you from your master. You three, finish off Nostrum. Kill that boy if he gets in your way.”

  Two men charged toward Nostrum. A third man with a dagger ran from behind to join them. Blades met. Sparks flew as Darrell slowed their advance. He kicked one aside. The other charged for the injured lord but Darrell’s sword went through him.

  The sword remained stuck. Darrell turned pale, shivered, and froze in place as he stared his enemy in the eye. He watched as the fighter’s eyes widened and his body became heavy on the blade. A hot sting opened on the back of his arm. He turned. The next swing swiped across the back of the wounded man. Darrell pushed the body off his sword with a kick.

  Then he met the attack of the remaining fighter, steel against steel.

  Six from the fishing crew laid motionless in the sand as Nostrum’s men fled. Nefri fought to ensure their escape. Numerous cuts discolored her fingers, wrist, and palms. A gash above her left eye drained over her eyebrow. Meerin and Rigvan kept their distance. Without villagers to threaten, they couldn’t play the same game as before. Captain Morgul jumped on his horse and rode behind her. Nefri tried running past Rigvan. He jumped at her and swiped at her side with his daggers. Evasion led back into containment. Morgul advanced, raised his odachi, and took his swing. The left side of her silk uniform blouse sliced open without harming her skin.

  “I could have killed with that strike,” Morgul smiled.

  His blade came for the right side. She kicked his horse to bounce backward. The force of her kick caused the animal to groan, its knees buckled. Nefri winced for the beast. Captain Morgul turned his blade outward as he rode past her. Before she could strike, the grip of his sword slammed into stomach. Morgul’s lieutenants put away their weapons. Nefri tried to counter, but Rigvan jumped down and kicked her to Meerin.

  A flying uppercut sent her back to Morgul, who didn’t bother to finish her with his massive blade. Instead, her upper arm snapped as the grip of his sword slammed it like a battering ram. She cried sharply after landing over the sand. The broken mercenary pushed herself onto all fours, then forced herself to stand. The three men encircling her laughed. Her left arm hung limp. Red stained her face and ran down her shoulder as she panted.

  “Face it woman, all that lifesaving tired you out,” Rigvan said, “You can’t beat us.”

  “Give me your sacred promise to submit your power to my command, and I’ll spare your life. Rigvan and Meerin here are well taken care of. You are much stronger. And by far more beautiful.”

  “No. I won’t allow it. I’ll take death or victory, nothing else.”

  “I don’t recall giving you a choice. I’ll have you begging me to take you within the hour!”

  The end of his sword’s grip connected with her stomach once again. Her eyes gleamed as her hands wrapped around the base of the steel blade. She ignored the metal slicing her palms as she forced the hilt from his hands. With all her strength, she pushed the blade’s tip against the front armor plate. Morgul sneered. The tip penetrated his leather armor between plates. He felt it scratch his chest and laughed because she didn’t have the strength to stab him. Nefri glared.

  "You lost by not taking the kill. That was your final mistake."

  Her right hand wrapped tightly around the base of the blade. Metal cut her fingers. Liquid squeezed around her hands. Nefri whispered. A streak of electricity wound around the blade, through the tip, and into Morgul’s heart. The captain gasped before collapsing. Nefri struggled to keep control of the long sword with one sliced hand as she faced the two lieutenants. Rigvan backed away.

  Darrell, badly cut and scratched, knelt beside Nostrum. Luckily, the men stopped fighting when Morgul fell, so Nostrum remained safe for now.

  “Very good,” Meerin said, “I’m surprised you were clever enough to kill the boss with such a weak lightning spell. But you must be completely exhausted.”

  “What!?” yelled Rigvan.

  “Rigvan!” Meerin shouted, “Her spells are too weak to work against us. Captain Morgul was careless. That spell went directly into his heart. It’s a trick. This mercenary is almost dead. If we hurry, we can get our captain revived.”

  “That so,” Rigvan said, “I’ll take care of her myself then.”

  Rigvan jumped at Nefri with a deranged laugh.