Chapter 5
He’s going to get cut to shreds.
Tamsin expected her knight-without-shining-armor to last a whole five seconds. Facing off against his hulking opponent, he looked ludicrously under-equipped, like a man going up against a tank with a toothpick.
Nonetheless, his face was calm and certain as he settled into a fighting crouch. His curved swords swept up, crossing in front of him.
It must have been some sort of signal, because his opponent roared and charged like a bull. For a man wearing twice Tamsin’s bodyweight in steel plate, he moved terrifyingly fast. Tamsin didn’t even had time to gasp, let alone shriek, before the black knight’s broadsword swept through her hero in a lethal arc.
Or…through where he’d just been.
He moved with cat-fast reflexes. He made no attempt to block the blade with his own curved swords—Tamsin was pretty sure it would have smashed through them like a wrecking ball. Instead, he ducked, springing forward, the black knight’s sword passing an inch over his head. He came up inside his opponent’s guard, silver scimitars flickering out in a lightning-fast blow.
“Yes!” Tamsin cheered—but too soon.
Her champion’s scimitars skidded off the knight’s armor in a shower of sparks. The knight snarled, lashing out with a mailed fist. Her hero was forced to dodge away, leaping back out of reach once more. He’d barely landed before the knight was on him again, sword a black blur through the air.
Tamsin’s hands flew to her mouth. She watched, not even daring to blink, as the two men clashed again.
Her champion whirled and danced, staying just ahead of the knight’s sword. A single mistake, a single hesitation, and he would have been sliced in half—yet again and again, he ducked past his opponent’s guard. Again and again, he landed a furious flurry of blows on the knight’s armor, always in precisely the same place.
Tamsin’s breath caught as she realized what he was doing—weakening the joint where the collar that protected the knight’s neck linked to his breastplate. Already, the black metal was dull with scratches, starting to distort out of shape.
The knight’s attacks became clumsier, his ability to turn his head hampered by the bent metal. With a snarled curse, he yanked off his helmet, hurling it to one side. The other man attacked immediately, scimitars moving so fast Tamsin could barely see them. This time, it was the knight who had to jump back, going on the defensive as the silver blades leaped for his now-exposed face.
He’s going to win.Tamsin’s heart pounded so hard, she thought it might burst from her chest. He’s going to win—
Her champion lunged—and his left leg folded underneath him. The knight reacted instantly, plunging his blade down with a roar of triumph. Tamsin’s hero flung himself into a desperate roll.
Not fast enough.
“No!” Tamsin cried out, as blood ran red down the edge of the black knight’s blade.
She would have run forward—though what she could do to help, she had no idea—but hands grabbed at her. The guards restrained her, despite her best efforts to twist free.
Her champion rolled back to his feet, his leather jerkin slashed and torn. His face set in grim, determined lines. Despite the crimson dripping down his leg and side, he went on the attack again.
Even wounded, his speed was breathtaking. He got past the knight’s sword again, blades leaping once more for his opponent’s throat, and for a shining instant Tamsin thought everything would be all right after all.
Then the knight barked out a harsh, incomprehensible word.
The swords hit his neck—Tamsin saw them hit—and…bounced off.
The knight’s skin had taken on the rough, gray texture of granite. The angular black tattoos on his face glowed, shimmering with power.
Face distorted in a snarl of triumph, the knight head butted Tamsin’s champion, sending him reeling. Before he could recover, the knight was on him, smashing the pommel of his sword into his shoulder.
“Cheat!” Tamsin whirled on Maeve, fighting the guard’s holding her. “He’s cheating!”
The elf queen lifted an elegant, unconcerned eyebrow. “In what way?”
“He’s using magic! This was meant to be armed combat, he’s cheating! You have to stop him!”
Maeve laughed, low and cruel. “Oh, sweet summer child. We are high sidhe. We are magic. Would you wail that a lion was cheating if it raked you with its claws?”
Tamsin flinched as the broadsword whistled through the air again, leaving another bloody stripe across her champion’s side. “But it’s not fair! He doesn’t have magic!”
“Oh, but he does, little human. And he could yet use it to save himself, and you.” Maeve’s cold smile widened. “If, of course, he is willing to expose his true nature to the entire court.”