On The Run . . . Again

[pie]

Merlin heard a voice speaking to him dimly. Whether or not it was suppose to sound so or not he was unsure of, but he knew it spoke to him, and it caught the little attention that he had left in him. He wasn't sure of what it said, just that the tone was comforting and something to grasp at to try and keep himself conscious. Focusing as best as he could, he grasped at that voice with his mind, subconsciously trying to keep hold while his body resisted.

And then he felt an even worse searing pain in his shoulder that sent his body rearing upwards, or at least trying to. Whatever was in his mouth probably saved him from biting his own tongue off as he bit hard into it, instead, choking out a scream through his clenched teeth as he tried to resist it. Whatever was holding him down was preventing him from getting away from it! As the knife slid into his flesh and tore through it, his body wracked in painful spasms as he tried to free himself.

"Make it stop!" he managed to cry out as his teeth clamped down hard on the glove. He didn't know what it was, or why it was happening, but he knew that he wanted it to end! The new onset of pain managed to keep him from sliding into unconsciousness, but at this moment, he would prefer to fall unconscious, even if it never returned. He was panicking too much to be able to form a logical thought, or perhaps he would have realized that it was Arthur that was holding him down.

His legs kicked outwards as best they could, one of the only parts of his body that wasn't completely restricted from movement, but his hands tried to come up too, which caused the one attached to his shoulder to only hurt more and he cried out even louder, as the other one searched frantically for whatever was pressing down on his stomach...

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Strong now, strong, stay strong for all its worth! The warning repeated itself over and over in Yassia’s mind as her slightly trembling hand cut through Merlin’s flesh. It was the voice of her mother telling her this, as if her ghost had crossed the spirit’s realm to support her daughter in this hour of need. But there was no time pondering over it, she needed to stay in the present, do what she had to do.
Taking quick and shallow breaths the forced the sickness down and prepared for the actual removing of the arrow.
“Shh, Merlin!” she crooned even if he most likely was in no state to even hear her. “It will be over soon, I promise. The worst part is over!”
“That was a lie. Now the worst part just began. She would have to scrape against the shaft, unsoldering the barbs of the remaining flesh around it as gently as possible so she could draw it out. As the blade was hot it would help her to achieve that goal easier and at the same time stop the bleeding – at least in theory.

Her eyes quickly darted to Merlin’s friend, still holding him down. She thought she saw hurt in his eyes and realised these two must be really good friends, if not brothers. But for that they didn’t look alike enough, right? They were rather like day and night: The one still a bit boyish with messy dark brown hair , the other a young man with hair like fine golden threads and the demeanour of a caring leader - - No distractions Yassia! The one lying on the table should be your concern now, not the other, he’s doing his job just fine and that is all you should care about!
Another slice made the arrow free on one side and Yassia was about to breathe a little sigh of relief, when she heard heavy footsteps outside the door and soon after banging on the door.

Her gaze got weary and she winced in surprise. Could they possibly ignore that? Merlin was now twisting more than ever and Yassia feared if his friend lost his attentiveness only for a split second he might wane in his grip as well and Merlin might rear up. With a burning knife inside him this could lead to serious injury or even death!
He seemed to have come to the same conclusion as he told her to ignore whoever was outside. If those newcomers were persistant however the door would not hold long. She was running out of time!
No haste… no panic… keep calm even through that… all for the patient’s sake… everyone can panic… you can’t!
"Have you been followed?” she asked curtly to make sure. It all became a clear picture now. The two men had been on the run, injured, and now the persecutors whoever they were had caught up with them. Just in time… not! How could she possibly save Merlin’s life when she was about to get attacked herself?

[Arthur Pendragon]

Merlin was getting more and more restless, and Arthur continued to use as much strength as he could to firmly hold him down as the woman continued the informal surgery. It was a horrible thing to watch, and yet she was doing it so very calmly. Her continued composure despite the banging on the door only reaffirmed Arthur's belief that she was a professional. She had all the supplies, she possessed the knowledge, and she had a remarkably steady hand. She must indeed be some sort of physician. He looked at the door again, knowing that he lock was weakening and it would only be a matter of time. Still, he did not want to create panic or chaos when both her and Merlin were in such a delicate position. He wished this could be rushed, but once again, knew that it could not. It seemed they were trapped, but Arthur was not about to admit defeat.

Nor did he want to raise concern but quickly admitting that these were the same men who had shot Merlin. At the same time . . . he could not minimize the severity of this situation for it was not fair to her, or anyone else here. And that was when Arthur realized the full extent of just how much he had endangered the lives of these people. The others could run away, but she was in the middle of an operation. Would she be quick to leave? Arthur's gut said no for she heard the banging and was still continuing on with her work. All he knew was that he could not let any harm come to her, or anyone else here . . . and he would have to make sure that the bandits did not finish the job as far as Merlin was concerned. He needed a plan, and fast.

"They're a group of bandits," he told her, not bothering to sugar coat the situation. It would not make it any better . . . it would only create more shock when she saw it for herself. "They were not far from this town," he added, still going on the belief that they had not seen them, but rather just wished to stir up some trouble wherever they went. "How much longer do you need?" He asked her, not meaning to pressure her, but time was of the essence right now. As he previously recognized, she was doing a phenomenal job of remaining composed, ignoring all the surrounding pressures and distractions . . . but at the same time, the three of them were in extremely vulnerable positions right now.

[pie]

He just wanted it to end. Whatever it took, he just wanted this torturous pain to come to its end by whatever means possible. Every time the searing blade cut into his flesh, he wished that he could gain control of his own body back. He would attempt -- wanted -- to jerk the other way, to get away from the pain as if it could help. While on the other hand, he wanted to lay still and let whatever was happening run its course, so that it would end quick enough for him to slip into unconsciousness or whatever awaited him there.

Yet it seemed impossible, for whatever was digging into his flesh seemed to be there to stay until it completed its task. And then it grew worse. As the knife began to cut off the barbs of the barb-shafted arrow embedded in his shoulder, Merlin's cries would turn into moans and pained sobs, and his body began to ignore any of his will and flail more. If it wasn't for whatever was holding him down, he was sure that he would get himself more injured.

The pain, however, did have one positive effect -- or maybe it was negative? It brought him further out of his deliriousness. He became dimly aware that he was in fact not dead -- though at the moment, he wished he was! -- and that someone was banging on the door... Door? He tried to open his eyes, but the pain was so intense that he was unable to. Where was he? Who was cutting into his shoulder? Where was Arthur?!

As another cry escaped him, his body automatically tried to rear up once more, but there was still someone there, holding him down. Who was it? Why were they letting this happen? What was happening? He remembered something... running... He jerked away subconsciously again, pressing his head further down into the makeshift-pillow, as if trying to sink into the hard surface underneath of him.

"Just kill me!" he cried out, begging whoever was there. The pain was too intense. He wasn't the type of person to be able to withstand such a thing and he was slowly starting to slip back into the painful bliss of delirium, where he wasn't aware of the slicing of his own flesh in its totality, but more just subconsciously.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Yassia’s heart broke for Merlin as she was witnessing him in so much pain, knowing she was the one causing it. How could anyone stay cold blooded around THAT? How could someone not hear these pitiful cries and wanting to end the pain?! But she couldn’t, it needed be done. It was all for his own good, she kept telling herself. Better be in pain now than dying from it or suffering all his life.
“I’m sorry, Merlin, I’m sorry!” Her bloody hand searched his and squeezed it tight for a moment before resuming her work. “Stay strong, I know you can! Not long now!”
She wasn’t even paying attention to the words she was mumbling, all she wanted was to say something to ease his pain and her own. She never had thought this being so difficult! She had been afraid of not being able to do it because she lacked the knowledge, now she realised the danger came from a completely unexpected side: Yassia needed the guts and the steel intent of a physician: actually hurting someone on purpose because it would make it better in the end.

The mentioning of bandits did not exactly work to call the princess’ nerves. Just her luck! Just like she had predicted! Calm… calm… to hell with calm!! How was she supposed to do a surgery like this with bandits about to break into the tavern? This was not only an emergency, it suddenly turned into extreme sport. "How much longer do you need?" - - extreme sport racing against the clock apparently. Yassia was highly tempted to snap back something along the line of ‘as long as it takes’, but she realised it wouldn’t do any good. It was not Arthur’s fault the bandits had shown up. And there was no time for electing a scapegoat anyway. That would all happen later – ever assumed they all survived, which wasn’t a given this very moment.
“I’ll hurry!” she said instead and did so. Sending a silent apology to Merlin as she had to hurt him even more, she quickly freed the arrow and pulled it out of the wound, stanching the blood with the still glowing knife. But unlike some other physician she now didn’t press the full blade on the fresh wound to cauterize it. That would leave a nasty scar and the method was brutal. Instead she fumbled for the needle she had prepared with blood-sticky hands and worked on stitching the fractures together - - hastily as she heard the splintering of wood.

“And killing is not an option, Merlin” she added with a bit of black humor. “Don’t you jinx it, hear me?”
Working with flying hands she now prepared the bandage. White moss soaked with a mixture of comfrey and calendula leaves and a white cloth to keep it in place.
“These bandits better have the courtesy of waiting some ten more seconds!” she growled as her slick fingers fought with the knot she was trying to do.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Had Merlin not been in such pain, or in such a life threatening state . . . Arthur would have smacked him on the head for suggesting such a thing. Just let him die . . . yeah right. It was as unlikely and ridiculous as when Merlin told him to leave him in the woods when he had initially been shot and was barley able to walk. Merlin . . . always trying to be the hero. But he knew that talking right now would not help. All Merlin should hear is the consoling, soft voice of the woman assuring him that everything was going to be alright. There was always something comforting in the tender sound of a woman's voice. Hopefully it was helping Merlin, even in the slightest bit . . . though the amount of pain he was going through probably was far too great to be totally appeased by the physician's voice.

She seemed to understand the time constraint they were under, and even though she continued to work more quickly, it did not look in the least bit sloppy. She continued to carry a steady, composed hand . . . something that Arthur found rather admirable. The banging was getting harder, and Arthur began to turn his head, looking for a a weapon. Something. Anything! He would have even offered to stall the bandits, had he not been holding Merlin down. Though the process seemed to be coming to a close as she hurriedly -- yet gracefully -- pulled out the source of the wound. Good! Now she needed to stitch him back up, and Arthur needed a weapon! Worst care scenario, he would improvise with what he had until he was able to get his hands on one of the swords that he knew the bandits would be carrying. What worried him though was that one of them carried a crossbow and the last thing they needed was the bandits to enter the inn, shooting arrows left right and center.

How much longer? Well she already said she was going to hurry, so Arthur was not going to pressure her further by saying that they would be inside at any moment.If the others in here were not so squeamish at the sight of blood, then this could have been a lot more productive. Others could have held Merlin down and Arthur could have worked on preventing the bandits from entering. But the only luck that had found them was the fact that this woman had been in here. Not only was she working quickly, but she also seemed to have maintained a sense of humor. "Don't worry," he told her, trying to provide some reassurance to her. She seemed to be more concerned with Merlin's life than hers -- something that Arthur greatly appreciated, for if she had not, she would have fled at the mere mention of bandits.

But Arthur was not going to let anything happen to either of them. He had encountered the bandits, he knew the crudeness of such men. And the fact that this woman held such great and undeniable beauty and grace -- even with her hand emerged in another man's wound -- well, Arthur knew where the minds of such men would trail to. But that was all they would be, thoughts for those were bad enough. Arthur would be sure of it. Which was why when the lock finally weakened and the door broke down, the Prince instinctively shifted his position so that he was more in front of the woman -- a reflexive and protective action -- while keeping a firm hold down on Merlin. He looked at the men, shooting them a glare, practically daring them to move forward at their own risk.

[pie]

Merlin laid on the table, gasping in pain still, dimly aware of what was happening. The pain seemed to be lessening... somewhat, kind of... It was a different kind of pain, really. It felt like something was poking him, not cutting him. Poking him with a sharp object, yes, but still poking him. Over and over, giving him a shivering feeling. It seemed as if it was crawling under his skin! A thought the half-oblivious Merlin did not like! So yes, it was different, but no, he didn't prefer it any more or less than the other slicing pain. But, it seemed that he would have to deal with it, for his mumblings and groaning pleads didn't seem to have any kind of effect on the person working on him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was relieved about that. But than again, he was not, as conciously, he would have prefered it if they had listened to them.

Squirming was at no end either, it still happened, he still tried to twist and turn out of the binding hold of the person preventing him from moving. He still tried to buck and rear, though that was more subconciously and a reaction to the pain. And still it got him no where. He was also dimly aware of some kind of new danger. Something that he was not fully aware of, but a sinking feeling in his stomach that told him that whoever was in the room -- was it a room? -- with him was now in danger too. Was it because of him? Was it a good thing or a bad thing? Was this "danger" his friends, or enemies of his friends? No, they weren't friends... if they were, he wouldn't feel that suffocating choking feeling that told him that something was wrong.

Or was that suffocating choking feeling coming from his wound? Wait... wound. Yes, he remembered fully now! He was shot by a bandit with an arrow in the shoulder, and Arthur was taking him to an Inn where hopefully there would be someone to help them. He remembered seeing the Inn before falling completely into delirum. That must mean that they had made it, right? And that there was someone who could help with the wound. That meant that Arthur had to be the one holding him down. Yes, it made sense now. He wasn't in the company of people who were purposely trying to hurt him, but people who were trying to help him. With all of the strength that he could muster through the pain, he forced himself to relax as best as possible. To relax so that the person could finish their work on his wound.

Which meant there had to be actual danger, right? And that danger could only be the bandits... He heard a woman speak, then, something about not jinxing her, if he heard correctly. It was kind of hard to tell through the pounding on the door. Door? Yes, they were in the Inn, and Arthur was speaking next, something about telling her not to worry... And then there was the sound of breaking, and then no more pounding. "Arthur," he gasped, his voice coming out more quietly than he had expected. "Stop... them..."

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

With great relief Yassia realised Merlin was calming down to a certain extent. He fidgeted less and she observed him actually gritting his teeth, as if rather trying to fight the pain down than acting on it. That was a good sign. It could mean he was slowly coming out of his delirious state, reason instead of instincts taking over. It really had been better not to give him any pain drugs, however severe and horrifying the pain must have been for him.
Her trembling fingers finally finished doing the knot on the bandage, setting it in place. If he made no hasty move with the shoulder or the arm, Merlin should be alright. Arthur and her might need to carry him upstairs, he couldn’t keep lying on that makeshift operation table forever. What he needed now was a good night’s sleep or even two days of rest.
“Very good, Merlin”, she crooned, squeezing his hand. “You’ve done great, you’ve been very brave. Rest now!”

But the stars were not in their favour as it seemed. Rest was not an option at the moment, as the bandits had finally made it past the door. Arthur had told her not to worry, but the reassurance trick didn’t work for Yassia right now. How could anyone NOT be worried when he faced a situation such as this? She was worried for her own safety alright, as she hardly was a fighting person. The only weapon she possessed had just been used to cut up Merlin, and it still was covered in blood and glowing orange. There was that one little dagger tugged away in her right boot, but for the moment Yassia didn’t want to make any hasty movements.
Merlin whispered something about Arthur rather stopping those bandits, and the princess was inclined to agree. There would be no more pain coming for Merlin, she could handle him alone.
“He’s right”, she muttered, lightly touching Arthur’s shoulder to get his attention. “Deal with them if you can, don’t mind Merlin. I’ll watch over him!”

Brave words those were, as Yassia wasn’t sure at all if she could actually defend Merlin that well. She might be good with casting daggers, and a had a good aim, but she was by no means to be called a warrior.
The first three bandits squeazed through the burst door, immediately fanning out, leaving space for three others to enter. All were armed to the teeth, one carrying the fateful crossbow Merlin had been injured with. A smirk was on all their faces as they seemed to be sure to have their victims trapped. Finally, the seventh and last man was entering with a wide and confident swagger. Yassia guessed him to be the leader immediately.

“Well, well, well, look who’s been hiding out like rats in a sewer”, he said in a low, raspy voice that made a shiver run down Yassia’s spine. “And now you’re trapped like rats, eh?” The other six joined in his mirthless, menacing laugh. The leaders eyes wandered slowly from Arthur to the still all but unconscious Merlin, his eyes lighting up for a split second as he probably counted one man out of the fight – and then Yassia could feel his eyes on her, and she had to surpress another wince and forced herself to raise her chin defiantly. She was an odd sight right now, her hands all covered in blood and a streak of it smeared across her right temple and cheek where she had put a strand of hair behind her ear. Still, the man’s look and that of the others was not so much amused… rather… hungry?
“And you got yourself company!” he continued, whistling lowly. “Now that’s what I call a bonus, eh lads?” They gave another laugh, dirty this time. Yassia felt for the dagger.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Arthur, stop... them..."

"He’s right. Deal with them if you can."

Arthur was feeling the weight of the situation as each man entered. They were massively outnumbered, even more so now than before. While Merlin was not an exceptional sword fighter, he was good enough to hold his own at times. But now he was impaired, just only recovering from his life threatening wound. And on top of that, there was a woman among them who had not spent the last while saving Merlin's life to now watch him die at the hand of bandits. The Prince was not oblivious to the look in their eyes either . . . that gleam that made it seem as if they hit the jackpot. Yes. They were outnumbered indeed. But Arthur had faced worse situations; ones where the chances of success seemed impossible and yet, they had won anyway. Hopefully, this would be like the others. But it did not mean Arthur did not have his fears. He feared for Merlin's life. He feared for Yassia's life.

But such fear was never wise to show in the face of your opponents. It would only reveal that you were unsure of yourself, and that would be the moment that your enemy knew your weakness. Arthur silently took a deep breath, feeling her hand on his shoulder, as he slightly turned to face her, seconds before all the bandits made it in. He wished there was time to move the two of them to a safer location, but they barley had a second between when she finished the informal operation and when the bandits made their entrance. "Thank you." He was thanking her for so many things. For saving Merlin's life. For risking her own. For watching Merlin right now. For not fleeing the scene. There was a chance they would not survive this, and if he died, he wanted her to at least know just how appreciative he was of her actions. He owed her a great deal, which was why his priority of protecting her, as well as Merlin, was merely an obligation, rather than some sort of reward.

He then turned back to look at the group of men as they piled in. Arthur focused particular attention on the one who held the crossbow, his eyes slightly narrowing on him. He had a personal bone to pick with that one. He had dared fire an arrow at his friend, and Arthur was not going to let it go. But again, to show such a desire for revenge may lead to irrational actions. The bandit with the crossbow however was also their greatest threat. While the others carried hand held weapons, the arrows could fly through the confined space, hitting any one of them. Arthur had a feeling -- one that he internally cringed at -- that they would want to keep the woman alive. Especially from the way they spoke. It was clear which one was the leader. This was it.

"Gentlemen," Arthur greeted, talking a few steps forward so that he was even more so standing directly in front of Yassia and therefore Merlin. Arthur's entire demeanor and even his tone was of the utmost confidence. He could not afford to show any insecurity and uncertainty about this situation. This would not be the first time he had to display such confidence, and he truly hoped it would not be the last. Though he locked eyes with the leader of the pack, he was mentally planning out a strategy. Trying to figure out what he could use to their advantage. His first goal would be the eliminate the man with a crossbow -- not only for vengeful purposes but because he yielded the most dangerous weapon amongst them all. He would then have to focus on the leader, for once the leader of any group was killed, it arose confusion and even those few seconds where they lacked any sort of direction or leadership, could prove to be advantageous for Arthur. Of course this plan was easier thought than actually executed, but at least it would give him sort of idea as how to deal with this predicament.

"Let us be civil." Negotiating with bandits was equivalent to talking to a stone wall. Still, Arthur had encountered enough bandits to know how they fought. They had no strategy in their movement. They swung to hit and ultimately kill. Which made them reckless and sloppy. It would not take long for him to get a more detailed feel for the pattern, their footwork as it was completely amateurish. This would be the only thing that increased their chances right now. Arthur was not the least bit surprised when the men just stood there laughing at his suggestion. In addition to the laughter, the leader pulled out his sword, as the others followed suit.

"I don't think so," the leader spoke with a sinister grin. He may be stupid but he was not stupid enough to realize that he did have the upper hand. Never the less, Arthur was not going to run. How could he? They had done so in the woods, but now the situation was entirely different. Arthur tried to keep a careful eye on all of them, though he sight was mainly focused on the leader. He swiftly pulled out his sword and it seemed that the time for talking was drawing to an end. A few moments drew on, as if the tension continued to build, and build until one of the men lunged towards him. Arthur blocked the blow and began to move a bit to the side, subtly taking control of the direction of the fight, making it move towards the man with the crossbow.

[pie]

Merlin was extremely relieved when the pain started to draw to an end. Or at least, the immediate pain, it would take a while for his shoulder to completely heal. He would have to be careful with it, to ensure that he didn't reopen the wound. So when the woman who had saved his life told him to rest, his whole body relaxed and he laid there with his eyes closed, breathing in deeply, but now very much alive. Alive, and to stay alive with luck. Luck that hopefully would be on their side, as there were bandits in the very same room.

But Arthur was there, and he trusted the Prince with his life completely. He hoped he knew that, and knew it wouldn't ever change. That was why, when the bandits entered, he was only slightly worried. He couldn't help but be a little worried; The man who had shot him with a crossbow was in here too, and then there were so many that Arthur had to fight. He trusted that Arthur would succeed in beating them, he always did.

The men were stupid, though. They underestimated this single man; Arthur was the best fighter in the realm, not a mere commoner like they must think from his attire. Of course, if they knew that he was the Prince, that wouldn't likely stop them from attacking. Actually, it was probably a good thing that they didn't know who Arthur was, and not just because of his royalty, but because that kept them more off guard.

Even though he was exhausted, tired, and in pain -- though nothing major --, he struggled to sit up and watch. To keep an eye on Arthur just in case, to make sure that the bandits didn't try any tricks because they didn't fight fair. He could secretly use magic to help if he had to, even though he wasn't sure if it was a good idea in his current state. But rather that than nothing at all, right? He managed to lift his head, getting a dizzy in the process, and kept his eyes trained majorly on Arthur and... the crossbow man. He kept the fear quelled as best as he could, though his breathing did become slower and heavier as his gaze locked on the man.

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Civil? If the situation hadn’t been so tense, Yassia would have laughed. That was something, quite some nerve this Arthur had, asking bandits to be civil. It only added to the air of confidence Yassia felt around him. He didn’t seem to argue to save his own hide, he made it sound like he wanted to spare THEM the pain of getting hurt by him. As if he could take up the whole lot of them alone! He might be good with a sword but no one was THAT kind of a legend, right?
The leader of the bandits seemed to have come to the same conclusion. His "I don't think so," ringed through the room, ulitmately wiping away all hope this matter could be solved in a peaceful way. Yassia prepared for the worst.

From one moment to the other, the fighting started and Yassia found her every muscle going tense. How could Arthur possibly win this? And yet, only after a few blows and blocks, Yassia felt oddly reassured. The man shielding her and his friend from the bandits was as good a fighter as she had ever come across. His reflexes were flawless, his technique aggressive enough but not reckless… he reminded her very much of when she had seen her stepbrother Mircea fight. He had done so more than once on their journey when they had still been together and also at home in Ailantha, even if those had been only training fights. With Mircea she had always felt safe… and now she started to feel a bit more comfortable about Arthur too.
Merlin, not in so much pain as before, even had it in him to sit up, but Yassia didn’t like it. “Please try to move as little as possible or the suture will come undone and I might have to start all over again. Best keep out of the whole thing!”

Yassia followed his gaze and saw the man with the crossbow. She couldn’t blame Merlin to be wary of him, he was the one able to cause most damage here. Arthur would have to eliminate him quickly or there might be more trouble to come. The princess knew he probably was thinking the same thing, but even a fighter such as him could not be everywhere at once! Already two of the bandits had managed to move closer, using their fighting companions as a shield. The smirk on their faces made it clear they were sure of their own cunning and ready to attack Arthur from behind – or eliminate his companions for that matter. But Yassia was still armed and she would not let that happen! Raising her bloody dagger threateningly, she hissed: “One step closer and you’ll regret it!”They laughed, exchanging amused glances. “Technically, to MAKE us regret it you’d have to be a hell lot closer, puppet. And then it would be too late!”

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was trying to keep control over everything, trying to make sure he kept an eye on all the men. There were too bloody many! And the fact that they were in such close quarters meant that running was not an option. He may be a prince, but he was not about to force two others to distract the bandits while he made a run for it. Where was the honor in that? He would rather die in this fight than spend the rest of his life regretting such a sacrifice. The bandits did indeed have absolutely no technique when they fought. Their footwork was sloppy, their swings were less that strategic. The only thing they had going for them was was brute strength and the high numbers. Other than that, they would have been completely wiped out had Arthur had two more knights with him. Maybe even just one.

He continued to block the heavy blows from his first opponent when he saw another one approaching him. Yes. Fighting two men at once was not exactly easy, and they were well aware of that. His sword went from a left block, to a right one, to left, to right, to left . . . until the back and forth clanging finally came to an end when Arthur unsuspectingly elbowed one of the men right in the face, the nose to be exact. It only took a few pounds of pressure and the perfect angle to break someone's nose. Which then in turn caused blinding pain and his opponent's eyes to tear. Which is exactly what happened. Using his momentary impairment to his advantage, Arthur pulled the man to the side, throwing him on top of the other one he was fighting. While he did not kill them right away, he knew that that may be the only way to stop them.

But right now, his focus remained on the man with the crossbow. He noticed the arrow pointed in the general direction of Yassia and Merlin, and Arthur knew it would be foolish to try and tackle him for with a single swift movement, the arrow could be released right into the Prince's chest. So instead, he needed to create some sort of diversion. He quickly grabbed a chair and threw it as hard as he could at the man with the crossbow. This caused him to fall over as the flying chair hit him in the chest and part of his face. He was down! Good! But once again, another man charged towards him, and as before, Arthur blocked the blow. He felt his head going in ten different directions, and like weeds, these damn bandits just kept popping up again! He had to get to the crossbow man, who was recovering from the attacking chair, and the leader who was conveniently keeping his distance from all the fighting for the time being.

Arthur heard the woman's voice warn away two men and Arthur turned his head only for a brief second to see them slowly approach her. She may have a dagger, but they had two swords. Arthur turned his attention back to the man who he was currently fighting. Once again, he needed to somehow distract those two men. Trying to think as quickly as possible, after one more block, Arthur ducked from the man's swing, and swiftly spun around, moving to his back, and inserting his sword right into the man's back, at an angle, one that would not take long for the bandit to die because of. In his final moans, Arthur wasted no time. He lifted his foot, placing it on the man's back and with a great deal of force kicked him forward so that his sword was pulled out. But the direction of his kick was not done without some sort of strategy, for he had shoved the man towards the two other bandits who were approaching Yassia.

The impact of his kick was enough make the other two -- who were completely distracted as they advanced the woman -- fall over, flat on their faces. "Get back!" Arthur called to her. Chances were, they were more likely to go after her rather than Merlin. Merlin was just lying there, who knows if he was even conscious! Yes, they might try to kill him later, but right now, the bandits focus would be on Arthur and Yassia. Which is why he told her to move away, to move much further back into the room, away from their advances. Had he known that the bandits would not chase her, he would have told her to go upstairs or to leave, but he knew they would only follow her. And at least this way, Arthur could keep an eye on her.