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This is it. thought Garnae. The final step is at hand. The last gasp. The group prepared to knock down the door, and he drew his sword.
Smash! The door was kicked down. A table stood near the door in the room, a fireplace on the left-hand side. At the other end of the wide hall was a woman on the floor, tied and gagged, looking amazed. "There be our goal!" he yelled.
But Garnae was stopped mid-yell. Two men advanced upon him, one had a knife the other a sword. The large part of the group were upon the other side of the table, or halfway up the room. Garnae parried the first man's sword, but the other took advantage of this loss in momentum and tackled him to the ground, though the knife-stroke went wide and sliced his side, not his chest.
Pain rushed through Garnae, and he roared in agony, yet, with a burst of strength quite unlike his style, shoved him off. Before the man with the sword could finish the job, another figure had leapt over the table and confronted him. Edhener? Leoflic?
Staggering upward, the side-wound ripping, Garnae stepped upon the dagger-wielder's hand. He pressed the sword to his neck.
A voice said commandingly, from behind him, "Stop!" Garnae slowly turned to face his nemesis. The third one wore a chain tunic, a Rider's helm and bore a shortbow, which was notched and aimed upon him. He was gaunt and thin, a leer upon his face.
"I don't know who you are," said Garnae. "But if you take a further step I - I shall slice this man's throat."
"An empty threat from one so weak as you, Garnae," jeered the opposer. "But I care for that coward no more than I care for the worthless brat and her unborn. Put down your blade, Rider."
I remember your face! raced Garnae's mind. You were training with me! You would laugh at me the hardest when the others did, you jeered me for my lack of strength and confidence in battle. A Rider had you expelled for stealing, I remember! He realised that was where the ex-Rider obtained his helm.
"Put down your blade!" yelled the brute. "Or I shall rid you of your suffering forever. It must be so hard to deal with your wonderful homestead gone. Do you wish to be rid of the pain?"
Madness welled up in Garnae, but another had got there first. A scream, a blade potruding from the ex-Rider's chest, and Cordelia stood there herself, looking fierce and desperate. The arrow went aside. Garnae welled with amazement and respect. But now there an innocent to save.
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