A loud shout cut through the silence in this village. As they saw their leader being killed by Kane, they let out a shout of rage, started by one, joined in by the others. They raised their weapons, screamed their lungs out and began to charge. They were determined to avenge their man... even though they knew that they were running into their own demise.

The archers began to fire.

Mervella couldn't react quickly enough as she heard the bow strings send their arrows on their way. But Kane's reflexes worked. One arrow passed him as he dodged it, flew right past his head and hit a small basket that was lying around near the tavern wall. The other one came right at him. With one swift move he brought the blade of his sword just into the right spot, deflecting the arrow, nearly cutting the shaft apart. It flew into the darkness, never to be seen again.

The two men with the throwing knives tried their luck, too. But Kane parried those whirling blades coming towards him with ease. The metal knives hit his dark blade with a high-pitched sound. The rest of the men, all armed with melee weapons, would still need another moment or two before they reached him. Mervella stood there, watching all this, unsure whether she was supposed to get involved or not. This was a personal matter for Kane, and he seemed to know what he was doing. This was not her fight.

But suddenly she remembered something. The silver that he had given them. It looked like everything he had owned.

Like he won't be needing it anymore...

Once that thought had crossed her mind, Mervella's instincts made her act immediately. The first archer had pulled out another arrow and readied it, but the bolt from her crossbow shot through the air, hitting him in the chest before he could fire.

It was a signal. The peasants around her let out a scream, similar to the one of the attackers. They stormed the field and ran into the enemy. Mervella was aghast. Those peasants were outnumbered, poorly armed and equipped. It would be a massacre. Once the first of them fell, the others would lose their courage, would either flee or die themselves. Mervella grabbed her sword faster and ran onto the battlefield with the others.

The warriors on horseback had been waiting while the men on foot charged. Now they moved their horses and began to charge themselves.

In her back Mervella heard something. A sound that she wasn't expecting to hear in the midst of the battle. The soft tone of a wooden flute...

The first attackers had come close enough to attack Kane, and did so. The rest of them were still charging, but they saw the peasants coming towards them, and for a moment it gave them pause. Mervella was more worried about the mounted attackers though. The speed of their horses combined with the fact that their weapons were more effective than those wielded by the footmen made them deadly opponents, and she was worried what damage they could deal if they hit the peasants. She had to do something about it.

Kane moved again. His moves seemed restrained, focused, following a strange pattern that Mervella had never seen in a swordfight before. As if he knew perfectly well where to place his attacks and when to strike. His sword danced in his hand, cutting and slicing through the enemy, blocking attacks from them and striking back almost at the same time. From this first wave of attackers two men were already dead on the ground before even the first rider had reached him. A third one was still standing, swinging what looked like a battleaxe in poor condition - missed him and received the dark blade of Kane's sword in his ribs for the trouble.

They were still too many. Especially the riders.

The first one came close enough, already with his weapon raised to strike Kane down. His horse galopped towards him, with no sign of stopping. And Kane had to know that he didn't stand a chance. He saw him coming and jumped to the side, evading the attack by a hairbreadth. The peasants were close behind him now. But the rider didn't stop, the horse went on. Right into the middle of the peasants.

Mervella could not turn around to see what happened back there, but she heard the screams of fear and pain that the peasants uttered, mixed in with the horse's neighing and an outcry from its rider who kept on hitting against anyone who would come into his reach. It was in that moment, signalled by the fearsome cries of the villagers, that their courage was lost, and they started to run. She knew that. She had expected that from the beginning. Right now there was nothing she could do about it. The first attackers had reached her, and she had to defend herself.

She went into a defensive stance, holding up her sword in one hand. The first one to engage her was a man with a spear-like weapon, thrusting it at her chest. This was easy to handle. She moved a bit to the side, struck the shaft of the spear with her sword, deflected the attack. As the pointy end of it was past her, the weapon posed no threat to her anymore. With a mighty swing she went for her opponent's head - and succeeded. The blade shlashed his throat, let him go down gurgling. Even if he survived that, he wouldn't be fighting anymore.

The next attacker wasn't so easy to handle. The way he wielded his broadsword showed Mervella that he had actually received some training. Also he didn't blindly charge at her and left her an opening, but struck from a safe stance, ready to do damage, but also to defend against a counterattack. Mervella had to parry, and the loud clash of their swords sounded across the entire village. Before he could strike again, Mervella tried to push him out of balance, hoping that an opening turned up for her to exploit.

He wouldn't give her one. He struggled to keep on his feet as Mervella gave him the push, but he managed to do so. Mervella tried to land her attack anyway, a horizontal blow that should hit his chest. He parried it with ease, struck back almost immediately. As Mervella defended herself, she saw in the background that the rest of the enemies were focusing on attacking Kane, while the riders charged for the fleeing peasants. She couldn't see what had happened to Kane and Rhojeka, and she didn't have time to think about either of them. Right now she had to fight for her own life.

Her sword parried the next attack, and in an act of desperation she went all offense. She stepped forward, slashed at her enemy with all her might, trying to break his defense. This couldn't be happening, some shabby bandit or deserter from the army, beating her in combat. Her, a knight of the king! Her training should not allow that. she had been fighting in battles greater and harder than this one, and he was the only one facing her right now. It was not like she was in Kane's position, having to fight half an army at once. She needed to focus just for that one moment, and remember all the lessons and battles of her past.

But she was wrong about one thing. He wasn't the only one facing off against her...

She felt the attack with the axe more than she actually saw it, and pure instinct saved her life in that moment. She ducked under the large blade of the axe that missed her for not even an inch, all while she still tried to hold off the broadsword fighter. The new opponent came from her left, her weak side. But that was something that she remembered from her combat training. When the other enemy raised the sword again to strike, she turned her sword in her hand so that the blade pointed downwards, not upwards. She awaited the inevitable attack.

And it came. It was a thrust, aiming for her neck. As she turned around quickly, her sword sliding against the enemy blade as she parried it, she turned it again. The thrust was forcefully redirected... into the chest of the axeman.

Her opponent had to be shocked about the outcome of his attack, but Mervella didn't intend to let him recover from that. With a swift slash she ended his life before he could manage to pull his weapon out of the body of his companion.

It gave her one tiny little moment of peace in all this chaos, and she took a quick glance at Rhojeka. The young woman stood in the background, still accompanied by the innkeeper who had his weapon in both hands, but seemed hesitant to use it. Her worried gaze met Mervella's. And it was clear that Rhojeka wanted to help her. But there was nothing she could do, now, was there?

The neighing of horses had Mervella turned around to the front again. Since the peasants were about to be scattered and mowed down, the other riders joined in on the attack while the footmen tried their hardest to defeat Kane on even ground. A couple more of them were dead on the ground already, but the rest had apparently learned their lesson. They formed a half circle around Kane, using polearms to keep him at bay. His swordfighting moves were still impressive, but ineffective since he wasn't able to reach anyone with it.

Mervella had no choice. Even if they killed Kane, nobody said that they would stop. For her own sake, for the sake of the villagers and her best friend, she had to help him. Even if they still outnumbered her six to one.

They saw her coming. Two of them turned around, with shorter weapons like swords and axes in their hands as opposed to the ones with the polearms. Mervella had to get past them. She needed to create an opening for Kane, so that he could go into the offense himself. But both men saw her coming, raising their weapons, prepared for her charge. And this time it wouldn't be as easy as with the other two.

Suddenly a voice was heard. A female voice. A singing voice. It filled the entire battlefield with sweet music, echoed in Mervella's ears.

"Stand my ground, I won't give in..."

It happened to the perfect time while Mervella was in the perfect place. She felt the music reaching out to every muscle in her body, reaching into her mind, giving her courage and confidence. She saw her two opponents coming at her, saw the attack they both prepared, but it was like everything happened while they were trapped in thick syrup. She swung her sword, missing the weapon of her first enemy, but hitting the man that wielded it. The second one missed her with his strike, and in one fluent move she pulled her blade out of the first one to sink it into the flesh of the second. And the way was clear.

"No more denying... I've got to face it..."

Rhojeka gave her singing voice so much power that Mervella felt like the world was shaking from it. The enemies had to feel it, too. And even in the thick of the battle she could see enough of their faces to notice the uncertainty, the insecurity... the hesitation that would seal their fate. All the bravery they had rallied to fight a Lhewai - according to legends they were masters of the swordfight, nigh undefeatable - wasn't holding up against both a Lhewai and a royal knight attacking them. With the battle tune of a bard in their back.

"Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside..."

One swift blow which her enemy was not quick enough to dodge or defend against. The polearm that had kept Kane at bay dropped to the ground. Kane saw the opportunity and made use of it. His blade was hard to see in the dark of the night, but even in broad daylight Mervella would have had trouble following its movement as it cut and sliced through the enemies. One second later she found herself fighting back to back with Kane, driving off what was left of their opposition, scattering the rest of the bandits like they did with the peasants.

Until the horsemen came back into the fight.

The neighing of the horses was the only warning. Mervella had to drop to the ground as the first rider reached her, swung his weapon to hit her in the head. She fell and was lucky enough to not get trampled by the horse in the process. But then she looked back in the direction the rider had come from. And saw the other three horsemen coming towards her. The horses galopped, their hooves made the ground shake, and Mervella knew that there was nothing she could do in this moment.

The ground shook even harder as they closed in on her. And then... it hit them. Mervella couldn't believe their eyes. It looked like the ground itself raised against them for a fracture of a second, blocking the horses' path, driving them to a screeching halt. Their riders could not brace for their sudden stop and were thrown off, landing on the ground right next to Mervella and Kane. The hooded man reacted quickly, although he was also lying on the ground. But he stabbed the first rider with his sword before the other could recover from his fall.

Mervella rushed back on her feet, more quickly than her enemies did. But she knew that the fight was over by now. The horses retreated from the battlefield, snickering nervously after what they had encountered. The riders had dropped their weapons while they were thrown off and weren't able to reach them in time. The remaining footmen, few of them there were, were chased out by the peasants who were also encouraged by Rhojeka's battle song. The only real opponent on the field was the rider that had attacked Mervella. It was Nork, the one that had spoken up first and had recognized Kane for what he was.

And he knew that he was beaten. "This is not worth dying for," he grumbled between clenched teeth. He turned his horse around and galopped away without looking back.

Mervella let out a relieved sigh. The two remaining riders were defeated - they got on their knees with their hands raised, surrendering to them. Kane stood up slowly, with his sword still in his hand. He approached them, slowly, and Mervella could only guess what his intention was. But before she could say anything he had raised the weapon over his head, ready to strike both men down in cold blood.

"Kane, stop!"

Rhojeka had stepped forward, too. She had lost her singing voice. Mervella noticed that the melody still seemed to resonate in her soul but most of it was gone. Still, Rhojeka had some authority in her voice that surprised her. She walked towards Kane, looking him firmly in the eyes, raising one hand to soothe him. "You mustn't do this," she said to him. An urging, almost pleading tone accompanied these words. "The fight is over. There has been enough bloodshed already."

Kane wouldn't listen. He tightened his grip around his sword. "Not for me it hasn't," he replied, sounding of anger and hate. He raised it again. The men stared at him in fear.

"STOP!"

Rhojeka's voice was like the crack of a whip going down on the man. It made the entire village go silent again. And it actually made him pause. "Look around you! Look at all the people who have died already! How is that not enough?"

"They destroyed my home." Kane's voice was an angry growl. "They killed my family and my friends. They need to pay."

"They have paid," Rhojeka reminded him. "They have paid with the lives of their friends. They have nothing left now. You won't gain anything from killing them." She tilted her head, looked at him as if she examined him. "Is it true? Are you a Lhewai?" Her voice had softened.

Kane looked back at her. Mervella sensed his insecurity in this moment. "I am," he confirmed.

"Is that the way of your people?"

Rhojeka kept this question lingering over him and the entire battlefield. But one look in her face, and Mervella knew that she had won. Slowly, hesitantly, as if his own demons were struggling inside him, Kane lowered the sword again. He turned his attention to the two men. "You, leave your weapons and go! Don't ever come back here! Now run before I change my mind!" He let them stand up, and thankfully the two men started running.