“Good idea,” said Anna. “Maybe he can even help us figure out how we got substituted for these people when we tell him.”
While Ryan carefully swung his sword, Anna’s eyes followed Eric as he reached the doorway of a bedroom. He suddenly leaned back sharply and she thought something had narrowly missed hitting his face. Then his arm rose swiftly, meeting and blocking the arm of someone swinging a dagger at him from inside the bedroom.
“Eric!” Anna yelled in panic, rising.
The martial artist retreated and a figure in black followed, lunging from the doorway. Eric grabbed the man’s forearms and fell back, pulling the intruder onto his upraised foot and throwing him headfirst behind him. A table shattered under the assassin as Eric rose to go after him, with a quick glance into the bedroom.
“Ryan! Another guy coming in through the window!”
The big man stepped into the doorway, a knife meant for Eric’s back bouncing off his golden armor. Startled, he backed away and yelped, “What do I do?”
Rushing the first guy, Eric replied, “Stick him with the sword!” With that he kicked the first assassin in the face and the intruder flew backwards, dropping another dagger.
Anna backed away from the fight, caught between wanting to help and running. Matt had risen and come to stand near her. Together they moved behind the couch toward the balcony.
Also wearing black, Ryan’s foe drew a sword, prompting the knight to raise his own without the confidence Anna had seen him use at RenFest. Those were staged combats where he knew every last move his opponent would make beforehand, having practiced it together for hours. How would he fare when someone meant to kill him? The intruder’s blade sliced at him much faster than Anna expected and he barely blocked it, backing away. “There’s another one coming in!” he called.
“Oh my God,” said Anna.
Ryan’s attacker glanced behind before resuming almost recklessly, forcing Ryan back. He leapt away from the knight and turned just as the third man entered. This one wore brown and green leathers and hardly spared Ryan a glance as he leapt after Ryan’s attacker. Their blades met with a loud ring.
“Is he helping us?” Matt asked.
“Think so!” Anna answered in relief. Her eyes lingered on realizing this man had slanted eyes, a delicate heart-shaped face, and otherworldly gracefulness. She could’ve sworn a pointed ear sometimes peeked out from under the blond hair. The word “elf” popped into her head.
Ryan exchanged a startled look with them before moving around the room to guard them. “Stay behind me.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” remarked Anna, clinging to Matt. She pulled her eyes off the apparent elf to Eric, whom she’d never seen fight for real. A round of flying fists happened so fast that she couldn’t follow it, but then the assassin drew a sword and so did Eric. Did he know how to use it? Eric blocked a swing, the blow jarring the blade from his hand to the floor. Anna gasped, but he kicked the man’s wrist and that sword fell, too. His attacker punched him in the jaw with the other hand, knocking him back, then threw a knife that struck his chest, bouncing off the studded leather.
“Son of a bitch!” Eric looked a little disbelieving, then angry. He grabbed his own throwing knife but hesitated to throw it. His attacker drew another, raising one arm, and Eric flicked his wrist. The knife stuck in the man’s stomach. Another followed into his upraised arm. Then Eric leapt forward and up, spinning in the air, his foot slamming into the man’s face and hurling him backward into the wall before ricocheting him forward to the floor face first, where he lay unmoving.
Anna just stared at the aftermath until Eric turned to the other fight unfolding. The second assassin’s back was to them, which apparently gave Ryan an idea for the way he quietly approached them, raising his sword high. He brought the pommel crashing down on the assassin’s head. The blow thrust the man forward and right onto the elf’s sword, which impaled him through the chest. The assassin fell back, almost striking Ryan, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Oh my God,” the knight said. “That’s not what I wanted!” His eyes danced about the room, from the dead man’s eyes, to the blood pooling on the floor, to the pity in the eyes of those looking at him, and finally to the sword that had done this. He dropped it with a clatter and clamped his eyes shut, one hand over them.
Anna saw crimson spreading out beneath the man Eric had fought. Despite being afraid to go near, the medical student in her took over and she went to check his pulse, not finding one. Eric helped turn the man over. He’d fallen on the knife in his abdomen. He was dead. Anna exchanged a stunned look with Eric before they rose. Matt had gone pale, holding onto the couch to steady himself. The elf knelt to wipe his sword on the other victim’s clothes and an awkward silence filled the room, broken only by Ryan’s distressed breathing.
“Thank you,” Anna started, struck by his piercing green eyes, delicate nose, and graceful, efficient movements suggestive of strength beyond his lithe, tall frame. Long blond hair fell behind his pointed ears, some of it braided.
“Who are you?” Eric asked, another knife ready. “What are you doing in here?”
“I observed them climbing the walls and followed,” the man replied in soft, musical voice. “Their intentions were clearly ill.”
Suspiciously, Eric asked, “How’d you come to see them?”
Anna thought he should be more polite, given that the elf had saved their lives, but she wanted to know, too. Was he spying on them? Paranoia seemed appropriate.
“My suite is across the courtyard from yours,” the man answered, gesturing out the balcony.
Anna looked and saw a dimly lit window with a terrace, from which
