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“Kill the other one,” Davy said. “This one is mine.” He advanced on her, his men spreading out to deal with Yoreno.

“So be it,” Dantera said, and rushed forward and exchanged several blows with the man called Davy before side-stepping and sticking her sword into the neck of one of his men, then withdrew her sword and turned to face Davy, who was already striking at her.

A stab of worry assailed Yoreno as he turned away, unable to see what was happening between them because of the men advancing on him, but he knew from just moments of their bladed exchange that Davy and Dantera were far above Yoreno in swordsmanship and fighting skill.

There was nothing he could do for Dantera.

Yoreno pulled his blade out of his scabbard as one of his attackers came forward. He struck in on the side and Yoreno parried his blow and backed away so the two other men on his right couldn’t flank him.

Then he ran toward the right wall, turned and exchanged strikes and parries with the man at the front. They were skilled, but Yoreno could tell he had the upper hand in quality while they had the advantage in number.

With a feint, he arched his blade in the opposite direction and took his opponent’s hand off. The man screamed as blood gushed from the wound. He grasped the stump of his arm, his ally’s eyes widening in surprise as they jerked and jumped out of his way.

Two more men came at him, one lunging forward for a strike. Yoreno parried his blow, and ran back toward the other edge of the room. They followed quickly, sprinting after him.

His attention was momentarily taken when another one of his opponents cried out and died as Dantera rushed him from behind, Davy only paces behind her.

Dantera was so far Yoreno’s superior that she could take on their commander while still getting in lethal strikes at his men when they had their attention distracted by Yoreno.

He was the bait, she the true sword master in the chamber. Yoreno wasn’t one to compare himself with the skills of another, but Dantera in action—in true action before his eyes, made him feel like a child playing at sticks.

“Come here, you coward!” his pursuer at the vanguard cried. “I’m going to cut you into little pieces and feed you to my Fellwolf. The man came in, striking quickly at Yoreno with his short sword, forcing him to give ground while his two allies tried to flank him.

Yoreno couldn’t let that happen and that was the reason why he kept running. Otherwise they would corner him and he would be killed.

He ran toward the center of the room and took a swipe at the contraption the mage had the crystal levitating in. Of course he missed, not wanting to actually come into contact with that magic.

But his action made the mage’s eyes widen and he screamed, “Stop him, you fools!”

The two men trying to flank Yoreno moved away to defend the crystal. As soon as Yoreno was forced to retreat again by the first man pursuing him, he noticed one of the men stayed behind to defend the mage’s work.

Now Yoreno only had two men to contend with, which was still not good, but he thought he could handle them.

“Stop playing and kill them!” the mage commanded, as if Davy and his men were only putting in half their efforts at stopping them.

Yoreno’s opponent swooped in, parried his blade and crouched in for a strike, his blade coming into contact with Yoreno’s vambrace as he desperate blocked the blow.

He lurched away to keep his attacker from moving in for the kill. Had Yoreno taken off his armor for their excursion to the boat, he would now have a deep gash on his arm from that attack.

It was too close!

Swinging his sword in deadly arcs, Yoreno’s face heated, not from his exertions in this duel, but because he was angry he had come that close to death just now.

Yoreno attacked, striking at the other man, but was parried away. He tried to come in close, but Yoreno leaned on his left leg and kicked outward, his boot coming onto contact with the man’s midsection, his blade coming down on Yoreno’s armored shin guard.

With the momentum of his kick, he whirled on his heal and spun a pirouette, his sword coming in for a horizontal slash that he angled into an upward strike, taking the second attacker in the jaw.

The man didn’t even cry out as he flipped from the initial impact of the blade striking through his face, his body muscles sending him into a powerful spasm before he landed heavily onto the sandy dungeon floor, his sword banging metallically.

Yoreno was already back-stepping from the man he had kicked, his sword arcing about defensively, but also offensively against his attacker, who was now striking at him from a further distance.

Dantera slashed the man defending the mage across throat, spilling his blood. It grouted into the air. He stopped watching her and focused on his man, hearing the mage below out obscenities and then something he understood to be a foreign language.

Was he invoking magical spells?

Yoreno’s attacker stopped, a smirk appearing on his face. He looked at his enemy, confused as the man backed away.

Davy cried out and Yoreno flicked his eyes over to Dantera, who had her sword pinned to Davy’s throat. Davy held his arm with his other hand, blood draining, but he hadn’t been dismembered. Ito Farralia, Dantera had said, was a terrible sword for dismembering. But she did much prize slashing wounds and thrusts.

Davy howled for mercy as Dantera flicked her sword and put a deep gash in his neck. He fell over writhing in bloody sand.

The man who had smirked at Yoreno glanced back, saw that his commander was down and then tried to run from the chamber, but Dantera took two strides and lunged, her right leg outstretched while her left knee was bent, her sword arm out as far as she could get it. Her reach as a fencer was long, and Ito Farralia made it even longer.

The man went rigid as Dantera thrust Ito Farralia into the back of his neck, her blade penetrating the span of a two-finger depth. He cried out sharply as she pulled her sword back. He fell dead to the floor.

“You will never get away with this,” the mage said.

“Watch us,” Dantera shot back. “Now surrender, or die.”

The mage laughed, and then their attention was distracted by the scraping of stone from several directions.

Yoreno glanced about. What were those sounds?

“Oh good,” Dantera said.

“What is it?” Yoreno asked.

And then he saw the lid from one of the ensconced sarcophagi fall and crash to the floor. Dantera said nothing as they both watched a crusty and desiccated hand grasp the edge of the stone box.

An undead man, eye sockets empty and mouth agape in a toothy snarl, sat up. Yoreno’s eyes widened.

It was a zombie.