Eileen was being driven back by the three lords, their blades probing forward and keeping her on the defensive. Thomas was shoving his way toward her, pulling out his own blades, when George’s bellow shook the room. The big smith waded through the crowd of brawling young men, swinging a stick he’d picked up from a weapon rack and heading for his sister. Bodies scattered as he bulled his way forward, and shouts of rage and pain followed him across the floor.
A pair of young lords stepped in front of Thomas, blades out. He disarmed the first with a flick of the wrist, parried an attack from the second, then stepped forward and drove his boot into the man’s groin.
Then George was there, knocking them aside with a single stroke of his stick and charging on Eileen’s attackers. He swung at the
