That terrible thought snapped a strategy into place.A way to isolate the pirate captain and end him.
“Run, Finn,” Bastion whispered.He saw the Thatian’s ears swivel to catch his words.
Finn lengthened his stride, and power exploded.Bastion prayed to every god he didn’t believe in that his horse made it through this battle unscathed.
It felt like they galloped for hours, but Bastion knew it was only minutes.As their horses reached their limits, the patrol disintegrated into the shadows.Bastion guided Finn in a wide arc, back towards the vague glow of a burning Moonwatch.He would need light to finish this.
The constant fear of holes, rocks, and other pitfalls kept him tense, but Finn’s footing remained sure.Soon, only one rider trailed behind them.A grim smile spread across Bastion’s face, and he pointed the gelding directly at the keep.
As he approached the drawbridge, a dozen riders harried the gate.Archers shot into the dark, littering the ground with arrows while the pirates returned fire with crossbows.
Bastion veered south, towards the headland.He wanted Buck to himself.
Just beyond the southeastern corner, they skidded to a stop.Bastion slid from Finn’s back and slapped his rump.The Thatian tore into the night, heels flying.
Bastion turned his back to the keep, his shadow dancing amorphously around him.He widened his stance and drew his blades.
From the darkness, a shrill whinny rang out.Then, a crash and a roar.For several moments, only the echo of rushing water filled the silence.
A crossbow bolt zipped into the torchlight and clipped his shoulder.
Bastion dove and rolled to the left.He got to his feet, and another whizzed by, forcing him to spin away.A feral shriek sounded from the battlement, and Bastion knew by the pull in his chest that it was Ulla.Every fiber of his being told him to turn around, but he clenched his jaw and focused forwards.
“As I suspected, you’re a coward!”Bastion taunted.
A predatory chuckle preceded Buck as he stepped from the shadows.He drew a sword–Bastion’s sword–eyes tracing its length with salacious intent.The way he ran his thumb down its length made Bastion’s blood boil.
He would cut off his hand at the earliest opportunity.
“Give it to me,” Buck growled, pointing at the sack still slung across Bastion’s shoulders, “and I’ll forget your Yvri whore.”
A cruel smile pulled at the white scar Ulla had given him.
“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” Bastion hissed.
Buck’s smile stretched further.He crossed the ground between them with more speed than Bastion expected.Bastion deflected as Buck charged by.He followed, rammed Buck with his shoulder, and spun to slice his sword across the captain’s thigh.
Buck leapt to the side, avoiding injury, then thrust.Bastion cut his next motion short, but the tip of the blade caught his ribs anyway, bruising instead of cutting thanks to his chainmail.The bastard had a reach like Endre and movements as powerful as Nesrin’s.Bastion had to disarm him.
He lunged, anger giving him strength as he slashed and parried, but Buck met every blow squarely, teeth bared in sadistic joy.He flowed from one form to the next with so little effort that it gave Bastion pause.For the first time, he wondered if the man was more than a pirate.
His face must have given something away, because Buck said, “What’s the matter, little guard?Are you outmatched?”
The taunt had its intended effect, and Bastion came at him with renewed fury.His fervor only lasted a minute, though–every step, every swing, every clash reverberating up his arms bled strength from his already-exhausted limbs.Bastion needed to end this quickly.
He crowded Buck, raining down blows in quick succession.When Buck raised the sword over his head, Bastion stabbed for his ribs.Buck sidestepped the thrust and rushed in, using Bastion’s own tactic against him.His arm clamped over Bastion’s hand and hilt.Before he even thought to reach for it, Bastion’s long knife was in his hand, then at Buck’s throat.Buck redirected the blade's momentum in a smooth arc and crashed the hilt against Bastion’s nose.
His head snapped back, and black spots danced in his vision.The salty, metallic taste of blood coated his tongue, and the long knife clattered to the ground.The arm clamped over his sword hand tightened, and Bastion’s knees went out as the hilt of his own sword slammed into his kidney.Buck grinned and used Bastion’s dead weight to bend his arm upward.
His breath like rot, Buck purred, “I’m going to enjoy killing you with your own blade.”
Then, he broke Bastion’s arm.
Bastion screamed.He could sense Ulla on the battlements, rage running through her veins like fire.
His knees hit the ground.Blinding, red-hot pain radiated through his nerves.Sweat iced his spine as he bit back a wail.His good hand groped through the grass.
Buck wrenched the sack over Bastion’s head, swinging his sword idly.
