Beverly felt the weapon scrape across her chest plate, but she ignored it, swinging her blade from right to left. The tip cut through the man's arms, spraying blood in a wide arc. She struck again with a sudden jab, a kidney strike that dropped her target a moment later. The other men backed up, temporarily shocked by the ferocity of her defense. To her right stood Dame Celia, her blade and shield held in the ready position.
The small crowd in front of her parted as someone in charge stepped through. His eyes searched the defenses, as if looking for something, then locked on Dame Celia.
Beverly prepared to launch an attack. Perhaps, if they took out the leader, the others might flee. She was about to say as much when the blade struck. One moment she was watching the enemy, the next a ter
