49. The Lord's Sword of Vengeance

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The two men on each side, who apparently had resigned themselves to eat the leftovers, grabbed one leg each. Amy let them. Best they be preoccupied.

Grinning, the third man stepped forward, bending down towards her. Amy dispassionately inspected his lascivious leer. On a scale from one to ten, she'd give it no more than a six point eight. His ugly mug, however, got a solid nine. His hands reached out for her wobbly bits, and his smirk was becoming wider and wider.

"Just ye wait, luv," the guard cackled. "I bet ye'll love me sword stabbing into ye!"

"And I bet," she told him, a broad smile suddenly appearing on her face, "ye'll love mine."

That was when she pulled out the knife and rammed it into his gut.

"Aaaaah!" The man let out a guttural groan.

"Oh...! Please!" Amy protested, squirming underneath the man with acting talent worthy of the Globe Theatre. "No! You're too big! Too big!"

The man's two cronies chuckled.

"Oy, we still wanna plough dat twat, too!" one of them shouted. "Take care ye don't ruin 'er for us!"

"Don't worry," Amy told him and, pulling out the knife from the wound, stabbed it at the goon's arm. "Ye won't be left out!"

"Aaaaagh!"

Cursing, the man let go of her leg and leapt back, blood streaming down his arm. The man half-lying on her, who still hadn't quite realized what had happened or how that hole had appeared in his belly, opened and closed his mouth like a choking goldfish. Ramming her knee into his ribs, Amy sent him sailing off the bed.

That left just one.

"Bitch!"

A fist sailed towards Amy's face, and she rolled to the side just in time to avoid the blow. Grabbing the arm, she slammed a foot into the bastard's belly and, with a jerk, sent him flying over her and into the wall beyond.

Wham!

Without looking, Amy leapt off the bed and turned towards the other man, who was still clutching his bleeding arm. Raising her knife, she dashed towards him. Growling, he grabbed for the sword that hung at his side.

Amy smirked.

Big mistake.

This was a confined space. Hardly enough room to swing around a spoon, let alone a sword. In other words: a back alley fight.

Ye're done for, fool! Dis is my turf!

Before the sword was even halfway out of its sheath, Amy's foot lashed out. Hooking it behind the guard's leg, she pulled hard. The moment the man lost his footing, and the hand let go of the sword to wildly wave through the air, Amy leapt forward. Moving into his reach she stabbed forward, catching him in the shoulder.

"Twat! I'll gut ye!"

Ducking, the man threw himself forward with a roar. Grabbing her around the waste, he forced her to the ground. He was a man, after all. He was the strongest! Once he was on top, a woman could do nothing to stop him, right?

Amy smirked.

In a blink, her legs came up. Wrapping around the man's head, she twisted.

"Nnnngh!"

"Damn, ye got a thick neck, ye bastard!"

Clenching her teeth she redoubled her efforts, and the man's face started turning first red, then purple. Amy was just waiting for her favorite colour in the rainbow, when...

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