Blood spilled dark and fast, steaming faintly in the chill air. The man collapsed, clutching at the ruin of his stomach, choking on his own breath.
The other two staggered back in shock.
They had not expected him.
Good.
The one in the center recovered first, drawing a short sword with clumsy haste. The third lunged from the side, dagger flashing.
Frederick pivoted, bringing his blade up in time to deflect the dagger. Metal clashed, sparks bursting. The impact rattled through his bones. He shoved hard with his shoulder, slamming into the attacker’s chest and sending him stumbling backward into a tree trunk.
The second man charged.
Frederick met him head-on.
Steel met steel in a vicious arc. The force of the blow numbed his hand briefly. He countered, stepping inside the man’s reach and driving his elbow into the attacker’s jaw. Bone cracked with a dull snap. Teeth scattered.
A snarl tore from the man as he swung wildly.
Frederick ducked. The blade sliced through the air above his head and nicked his shoulder as it passed, tearing cloth and skin. Heat flared along his upper arm.
He did not slow.
He drove his sword upward beneath the man’s ribs.
The resistance was thick this time. He felt cartilage give way, felt the shudder as steel pierced lung. The man’s breath burst out in a wet gurgle. Blood bubbled at his lips.
Frederick shoved him off the blade with a brutal kick.
Behind him, the third man recovered and lunged again, dagger aiming low.
Frederick turned too late to avoid the strike entirely. The blade bit into his side, shallow but sharp. Pain flared bright and immediate.
He grunted, pivoting with the momentum rather than fighting it. His sword came around in a brutal horizontal sweep.
It caught the man across the throat.
The cut was not clean.
Skin split. Blood sprayed in a hot arc across the dirt and tree bark. The man staggered back, hands flying to his neck as crimson poured through his fingers. He tried to speak, but only a ghastly bubbling sound emerged. He collapsed to his knees, choking on his own blood.
Frederick stood over him a heartbeat longer than necessary.
The man’s eyes rolled back.
Silence returned in heavy waves.
Except –
A crack of branches.
Frederick snapped his head up.
The first attacker, the one he had gut-shot, was dragging himself through the underbrush, leaving a thick smear of blood behind him. Not toward them.
Away.
Frederick considered pursuit for a fraction of a second.