A Lady's Fate

Chapter Twelve - Mary

"Get your filthy hands off her!"

Mary was enraged beyond belief; incensed beyond reason. She hardly recognised the feral shriek as her own as she stormed into the room, baying for blood.

The scene in front of Mary was so utterly abhorrent that for a moment she wondered if she were seeing things. How dare they! How could those vile, repulsive men ever dream of violating poor, sweet Lady Helena in such a way?

Thankfully, the man with his pudgy hands all over Lady Helena released her from his grasp at the ferocity in Mary's voice. Upon turning to face Mary and discovering her to be a female, however, the men looked thoroughly unconcerned.

A sorry mistake, thought Mary grimly.

Casting a brief glance at Lady Helena's limp form, Mary realised the poor thing had fainted away. The sooner the better these awful men were sent on their way, so that Lady Helena was not faced with them again when she came to.

The witless thugs, of course, had other ideas.

"'Ello, love!" lisped the one nearest to her gleefully. "Come to join the fun?"

Mary's nose wrinkled in disgust. Such revolting men did not deserve to be out in the community; behind bars was the only place for them.

"Certainly not," was Mary's clipped response.

Still the men refused to view her as a threat. Guffawing to themselves, they appeared to tire of waiting – the man nearest to Mary suddenly made a move as if to capture her as well.

That was their second mistake.

Thinking quickly, Mary's gaze swept around the room in search of anything which could be used as a weapon. Her eyes fell upon the poker which lay in the fireplace, ensconced by the dancing sparks of the dying embers. It would not be scorching hot – but it would have to do.

By the time the man was upon her, Mary had the poker firmly in her grasp, brandishing it in front of her like a sword. Even with a weapon, the man did not fear her – leering unpleasantly to show a cavernous mouth lacking several teeth, he continued to lumber towards her, lunging forwards at the last moment in an attempt to grab her around the middle.

Thankfully Mary, with lightning-fast reactions, had anticipated the brute's move, dancing lightly sideways out of harm's way. Carried forwards by his momentum, the man stumbled, hunching over – and Mary grasped the opportunity to aim a powerful kick at his stomach.

Grunting, the man doubled over even further – but Mary was barely allowed a moment to look on with satisfaction, for the tallest of the three men was now advancing.

Planting her feet a shoulder's width apart and bending her knees slightly, Mary swung the poker with an enraged cry, striking his cheek with significant force.

"Ow!" he howled, his cry a mixture of pain and fury as he staggered backwards, clutching the side of his face.

Panting heavily, Mary turned her attention to the third and final brute -  the slightly plumper of the three, who had been pinning Lady Helena down on the bed. To her complete and utter surprise, though, she found him seemingly with no desire to brawl. Instead, he glanced back and forth from her face to the poker she still brandished before her, wide-eyed and panic-stricken.

Feeling a peculiar sense of empowerment, Mary drew herself up to her full height.

"I shall give you one opportunity to leave," she warned them, eyes flashing. "And I advise you to take it, if you wish to come to no further harm."