The Prince of Ilios

Forty-One

Don sauntered over, not at all threatened by the fiery blonde. He chuckled at her, "Cute." He nodded to Nicola as if to say is that alright with you? who only shrugged as if to say sure. Watching the excruciating exchange only made Ellora more angry, it was as though she were Nicola's pet or something. She stayed in her stance, at the ready for anything.

Nicola knew she would be eating all of her words in mere moments. Don was the best of his warriors, although he mostly relied on brute strength he had enough experience to best most fighters in close quarters combat. He leaned against the railing, almost feeling sorry for her.

He debated for a moment if he would even need a weapon. Don had always been better at hand to hand combat than anything else. He shrugged to the other guards, putting on a show.

Ellora straightened, twisting the lance so the tip was down by her leg, the bar of it entwined with her arm, so that it was easily maneuverable into other positions. The tip of the lance was black, like their armor, just as all of the other blades, edges. Ready made, to work against the armor.

Don glanced at her with the lance, impressed by her stance. She seemed to know what she was doing. But that didn't matter. She could have all the training in the world and still not beat him. But he figured he could make it easier on her, without wounding her pride too much. He grabbed a lance as well, even playing ground and all. He tensed into a stance of his own. Ellora's jaw set, ready for the fight.

The burly man stepped to the side. She followed in the opposite direction, reading his movements as he made them. He was testing her, she knew, but he still assumed that she was weak. Ellora raised a brow, "Are you done dancing? Can we fight now?"

Don chuffed. They both charged forward, Ellora reaching him quicker than he expected. She slid the end of her lance around his ankle. He almost tripped, but caught himself. He wrapped her across the shoulder. That is going to bruise. But, she couldn't even recount the number of bruises she had already. She twirled around behind him before he could completely get his bearings and wrapped him across the hand holding his own lance. He stepped away from her and shook it out.

"Well, you do sting like a bee." He retorted to the other guards. He lunged out with his lance in a clumsy, unstable motion. Ellora swiped underneath it, kicking, his own pole upward so that it hit him and flew out of his hand.

He grimaced, grabbing her lance before she could get away. Ellora's feet sprang into his hips, throwing him up over her head, and she rolled back onto her feet. Don landed with a thud in front of her. She reached out her lance to him, point in his face, "yeild."

Don smiled, having to get serious now, "I don't yeild."

Nicola shifted curiously, he had to admit that she was impressive, actually making Don take her seriously, but she was a long way from winning. She would get hurt before this was over, and he would have to answer once again to Alyn, at least that is what he kept telling himself. In reality, he was inching closer, wanting to help in some way.

"Ellora..." She heard Nicola's voice from the side. He was circling around to her left.

Before she could say anything, Don grasped the lance up near her hands, twisted and pulled at the same time. She had to let go or she would have been thrown like a leaf. Now Don had a lance and she had almost nothing. She retrieved her knife from her thigh. It wouldn't work against the armor, but it could be a useful distraction.

Don took the lance up over his shoulder and threw it at her, with fierce accuracy. She narrowly dodged it, thankful for her quick feet. Nicola had yelled, and was about to step in. Ellora glared at him and turned her attention back to Don. She didn't want to fight an unarmed man. So she took her blade and threw it. He was slower to dodge, the smooth blade chipped at his ear. He grunted, covering it with his hand. When Don saw the blood, he grew a glare of his own. His eyes on his only target, no way a little princess was going to get the better of him. He charged at her.

Ellora did her best to block his blows. Her arms and legs moved in patterns as she dodged.

"One thing is for sure, you certainly can run."

She watched him for a moment. Was that what she thought it was? He came at her again. Left, right, left, left. She memorized his patterns, which side he favored, how he moved. Ellora did her best, he managed a few glancing blows and her arms hurt from them. A cut on her cheek was bleeding. She breathed and swiped it with the back of her hand.

Don spit on the ground. He came toward her, there again. She noticed, the minuscule flinch in his knee. She catalogued it for the break in his movements. Left, right, left, left. With all of her strength she kicked, targeting his knee. He roared in pain, falling onto it. He tried to grab at her and take her down too. She jumped back as he stayed kneeling, her hands raised and ready for the next blow.

"Enough." Nicola shouted at them, his own adrenaline surging, "That's enough. She got you Don."

Ellora lowered her hands. Another guard came over to help Don to his feet. Her fists were still tense at her sides, but her adrenaline was fading, bringing back to memory all of her aching muscles and sore bruises.

Nicola came up to her, his nervousness cooling with each step, "I have never seen anyone figure out Don's trick knee that quickly." He looked her over, "Are you alright. You were taking some pretty serious blows." He turned her head to look at her bleeding cheek, "That is going to need some attention, I think."