hands. “Easy there,” she said, mimicking the voice her sister adopted when soothing a frightened horse. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ywain’s eyes were huge, and Britt could see that his hand holding the dagger to Ban’s throat shook with fear. “Stay b-back!” he warned.
King Ban rolled his eyes like a nervous cow. “Someone kill the boy,” he said.
A man holding a bow stirred, and Britt barked. “Don’t move, any of you,” she said. Everyone crowding around the altercation stilled.
Ywain licked his lips, his eyes darting from side to side as he looked for an exit
“Let him go, Ywain,” Britt said, her voice smooth and cool like iced coffee on a sweltering day. “I know you don’t want to hurt him,” she said, slowly approaching the pair.
“Take me out of this camp and I’ll let him go!” Ywain shouted.
Britt shook her head. “No.”
“What are you doing? Do what he says,” King Ban hissed before gurgling when Ywain applied pressure to his neck.
“Silence!” Ywain said, his voice cracking again.
“You don’t want to kill him, Ywain,” Britt said, holding the boy’s eyes as she drew closer. “You know you wouldn’t leave this place alive if something happened to him,” Britt said, within an arm’s length of King Ban.
Ywain hesitated, and Britt stuck in that moment. She chopped at the muscles above his elbow, making his forearm pop up—removing the dagger from Ban’s throat. She plucked the dagger from Ywain and tossed it away, but the boy reacted as well. He kneed King Ban in the back, making the man stumble into Britt, and grappled with the king’s sword until he pulled it from its sheath.
“Oof” Britt said when the king knocked into her. She stepped back several paces to steady herself, and a knight caught Ban before he face planted.
“Stay back!” Ywain repeated, holding King Ban’s sword in front of himself in a stance that was not so horrible that it made Britt grimace, but was not so good as to make Britt nod in approval.
Several knights unsheathed their swords before Britt shouted, “I said not to move!”
Again, everyone fell still—Ywain included—and Britt exhaled in satisfaction before she drew Excalibur from her scabbard. She twirled it once through the air in a fancy gesture she could not refuse herself before sinking into a low position, an emotionless expression fixed on her face.
Ywain slightly shifted his stance, sweat beading on his forehead as he still shook with fear.
Britt, following her training, struck like a snake. She lunged forward, landing blows on Ywain with the ferocity of a wild animal. Excalibur sang like crystal when its edge clashed against King Ban’s sword.
Britt moved forward, pressing Ywain back on his heels as her cloak billowed behind her like wings. She struck so fast she didn’t give Ywain time to counter strike or attempt to attack. She completely overwhelmed him.
She pushed her advantage, keeping up a seamless string of attacks to force an opening. She wrenched Excalibur, using it like a lever, and popped King Ban’s sword from Ywain’s hands. With the sword gone Britt brought the fight closer to Ywain and grabbed him by the tunic. She flipped him over her knee, and he land on the ground with a painful thud.
The entire battle lasted mere seconds.
Ywain gasped, trying to get air again, and Britt stood over him, Excalibur pointed at his throat.
“W-who are you?” Ywain wheezed when he had enough air.
Britt gave him a business-like smile that did not reach her eyes. “Arthur, King of Britain,” she said before looking up when she heard a strangled cry.
“My Lord!”
“Ah, Sir Bodwain. Perfect timing, could you take charge of our young prisoner? I need to find water for Roen.”
“My Lord, you just. He!” Sir Bodwain gaped.
Sir Bedivere, who was with him, looked curiously at Sir Bodwain. The knight still did not know the truth of Britt’s gender and identity, so he was not surprised and dazed like
Ywain’s eyes were huge, and Britt could see that his hand holding the dagger to Ban’s throat shook with fear. “Stay b-back!” he warned.
King Ban rolled his eyes like a nervous cow. “Someone kill the boy,” he said.
A man holding a bow stirred, and Britt barked. “Don’t move, any of you,” she said. Everyone crowding around the altercation stilled.
Ywain licked his lips, his eyes darting from side to side as he looked for an exit
“Let him go, Ywain,” Britt said, her voice smooth and cool like iced coffee on a sweltering day. “I know you don’t want to hurt him,” she said, slowly approaching the pair.
“Take me out of this camp and I’ll let him go!” Ywain shouted.
Britt shook her head. “No.”
“What are you doing? Do what he says,” King Ban hissed before gurgling when Ywain applied pressure to his neck.
“Silence!” Ywain said, his voice cracking again.
“You don’t want to kill him, Ywain,” Britt said, holding the boy’s eyes as she drew closer. “You know you wouldn’t leave this place alive if something happened to him,” Britt said, within an arm’s length of King Ban.
Ywain hesitated, and Britt stuck in that moment. She chopped at the muscles above his elbow, making his forearm pop up—removing the dagger from Ban’s throat. She plucked the dagger from Ywain and tossed it away, but the boy reacted as well. He kneed King Ban in the back, making the man stumble into Britt, and grappled with the king’s sword until he pulled it from its sheath.
“Oof” Britt said when the king knocked into her. She stepped back several paces to steady herself, and a knight caught Ban before he face planted.
“Stay back!” Ywain repeated, holding King Ban’s sword in front of himself in a stance that was not so horrible that it made Britt grimace, but was not so good as to make Britt nod in approval.
Several knights unsheathed their swords before Britt shouted, “I said not to move!”
Again, everyone fell still—Ywain included—and Britt exhaled in satisfaction before she drew Excalibur from her scabbard. She twirled it once through the air in a fancy gesture she could not refuse herself before sinking into a low position, an emotionless expression fixed on her face.
Ywain slightly shifted his stance, sweat beading on his forehead as he still shook with fear.
Britt, following her training, struck like a snake. She lunged forward, landing blows on Ywain with the ferocity of a wild animal. Excalibur sang like crystal when its edge clashed against King Ban’s sword.
Britt moved forward, pressing Ywain back on his heels as her cloak billowed behind her like wings. She struck so fast she didn’t give Ywain time to counter strike or attempt to attack. She completely overwhelmed him.
She pushed her advantage, keeping up a seamless string of attacks to force an opening. She wrenched Excalibur, using it like a lever, and popped King Ban’s sword from Ywain’s hands. With the sword gone Britt brought the fight closer to Ywain and grabbed him by the tunic. She flipped him over her knee, and he land on the ground with a painful thud.
The entire battle lasted mere seconds.
Ywain gasped, trying to get air again, and Britt stood over him, Excalibur pointed at his throat.
“W-who are you?” Ywain wheezed when he had enough air.
Britt gave him a business-like smile that did not reach her eyes. “Arthur, King of Britain,” she said before looking up when she heard a strangled cry.
“My Lord!”
“Ah, Sir Bodwain. Perfect timing, could you take charge of our young prisoner? I need to find water for Roen.”
“My Lord, you just. He!” Sir Bodwain gaped.
Sir Bedivere, who was with him, looked curiously at Sir Bodwain. The knight still did not know the truth of Britt’s gender and identity, so he was not surprised and dazed like
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