With a single glance and a nod, Leopold jumped for the Huntsman, while Siegfried charged Desmond. He came straight at the magician in his usual style, and Desmond parried him easily. Then Desmond closed, and he pivoted out of the way. Within the exchange of three blows, Siegfried, at least, knew he was in trouble.
Desmond had been holding back in the practice bouts they'd all had. The bastard had even allowed himself to lose once in a while. If he'd actually exerted himself, he'd never have lost at all. Desmond was not just good.
Desmond was unbelievable.
* * *
Rosa's mouth was dry, and she thought longingly about a drink of water. Alfer leafing through his grimoire twice, Desmond had found the spell he was looking for, and the Huntsman, seeing this, retreated down the staircase to the first floor. But he did not get far.
"Sire!"came the startled voice from the stair."Intruders!"
Her heart leapt. There was the immediate sound of scuffling, the sounds of bodies impacting and grunts. Desmond tossed his book aside, grabbed his sword from the table where he had left it and charged down the stairs himself. Then there came the clash of metal-on-metal, grunts and curses, as the fight began in real earnest, and her heart didn't just leap, it raced with excitement and the need to get free. Rosa fought the paralyzing magics in a frenzy of impatience, attacking them with everything she had in her.
She had loosened them, yes, but no more than that. They weren't undone, not even close to being undone. She still had to pick the ends loose and unweave them. She tore at them with mental fingers, her heart racing, her chest aching with the urge to swear at them. All the time she fought with the bindings, she could hear the sounds of fighting below, andthought she recognized Leopold's and Siegfried's voices. And it sounded as if they were in trouble.
She had to get free! She concentrated all of her strength on the unraveling bonds. She didn't know what she could do, but she was going to dosomething! But first she had to get loose!
She was able to physically struggle a little — then a little more —
Was there any untainted magic around here anywhere that she could use? She could see the magic that Desmond had been using, lying around her like stagnant, repellent puddles, but was there anything she could use? Because there was no way she was touching that stuff.
The necklace pulsed gently, and a bit of power flowed into her from that. With a last push of impatience, she shattered the remaining strands of the magic, grabbed the nearest thing she could see — the candlestick standing on the same cabinet where Desmond had left his sword — and scuttled down the stairs herself with one hand on the stone wall for balance.
The fight had moved into the kitchen. She sprinted to the doorway in time to see Desmond about to get past Siegfried's guard. She heaved the candlestick at him in a fury, glanced around and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard beside her.
The candlestick struck Desmond a glancing blow to the shoulder. Startled, he turned, giving Siegfried an opening. She flung the bowl at the Huntsman, who had pinned Leopold's arm and blade against the wall. It hit the wall beside his head and shattered. He whirled, giving Leopold the chance to get away from where he'd been pinned.
The look of rage in Desmond's eyes would have made anyone less angry than Rosa start running. Instead, as he took a single step toward her, forgetting about Siegfried for a critical moment, she dashed over to the kitchen cupboard, wrenched the doors open and seized a frying pan. It was heavier than it looked, but she picked it up with both hands, whirled, and threw it anyway, making him duck, and giving Siegfried a chance to move in on him.
The cupboard had quite a few things on it and in it. She emptied it out, then moved to the shelves, and threw everything she could get her hands on, keeping both Desmond and the Huntsman distracted from what should have been their main concern, the men with swords in their hands. Meanwhile Siegfried and Leopold kept Desmond and the Huntsman from coming after her. It was stalemate. And it couldn't remain that way for long.
The Huntsman swore, bound Leopold's blade with the flat of his own and sent Leopold's sword flying out of his hands. Leopold dropped and rolled, bowling into the Huntsman's legs and knocking him over. Leopold got to his feet before the Huntsman did, and he came up with —
The frying pan.
Holding it like a short club, he ducked and moved in under the Huntsman's thrust, came up inside his reach, swung hard and bashed him in the side of the head with the flat bottom.
The Huntsman went down like a stunned ox.
But now Rosa had run out of things to throw. And the sound of the frying pan hitting the Huntsman, and the Huntsman dropping, momentarily distracted Siegfried. Siegfried glanced to the side to see which of the two had gone down.
Desmond saw his opening, and took it. His face full of savage joy, he, too, bound Siegfried's blade with his own and wrenched it out of Siegfried's hand. Siegfried tried to evade him but ran up against the wall. Rosa screamed as Desmond moved in for the kill.
Leopold turned and saw at a glance what was about to happen. Leopold lunged forward, moving faster than Rosa had ever seen him before.
Not for Desmond; Desmond was out of reach. Leopold lunged for Siegfried. He flung himself between Desmond and Siegfried. And the blow intended for Siegfried plunged into his body instead.
Rosa's heart all but stopped.
With a curse, Desmond wrenched his sword loose as Leopold slumped to the floor, hands clasped involuntarily over the wound, blood pouring between his fingers. He turned to find Siegfried.
But Siegfried had already rolled to the side and found his sword, and Siegfried's face was contorted into a mask of fury. An animal roar came from his throat as he charged Desmond. The first blow would have been countered by Desmond's parry, except that Siegfried shattered the sword to the hilt in Desmond's hand, and all Desmond could do was try and scramble out of the way. As he dodged and overbalanced and fell to his hands and knees, he spotted Leopold's sword on the floor and scrabbled for it desperately. He reached it just as Siegfried reached him. Again, Desmond tried desperately to parry; this time it was his sword that was knocked from his hands like a toy as he backed into the table. His widened eyes stared at Siegfried in utter disbelief.
With another roar, Siegfried actually drove his sword down with both hands into Desmond's undefended chest, impaling Desmond to the table like a beetle pinned to a display board.
Desmond shook once, then was utterly still, a look of disbelief still on his cruel, handsome face. Freed from her shock, Rosa ran to Leopold, undoing the useless light armor, tearing open his shirt with her bare hands, which were soon blood-covered. Grateful that she was wearing her peasant clothing, she pulled up her skirt and began ripping strips off her petticoat.
"Leave it be, Princess," Leopold croaked as Siegfried joined her, and grimly pressed his own hands against the wound while Rosa fashioned a bandage. "Looks like the contest is over. Hell of a way to get eliminated, but you got the better man. We wouldn't have suited each other anyway." He tried to laugh, but it came out as a moan. "Just give me a big fancy funeral."
"Shut up, Leopold," said Siegfried. But Rosa glanced at his face, and her heart sank as she read the truth in his expression. Leopold's wound was fatal.