The man stared, gritting his teeth against the pain. Forest could see in his eyes that he knew he was doomed and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. When, with a jerk, Forest pulled out the blade, the warrior fell back, vainly clamping his hand to staunch the flow of blood.

The third mercenary charged, screaming in fury, his voice almost lost in the torrential downpour, his shield held forward with the intention of smashing his foe into the flowing waters. Forest waited, presenting himself as an easy target – until the last moment. Then he crouched, his rapier thrusting beneath the shield, allowing the mercenary to impale himself with the impetus of his own attack. The man stopped dead, his sword and shield clattering to the deck before he toppled after them.

Forest saw a flash of fear cross the general’s eyes, but he knew that the last bodyguard would be the most formidable.

The barge had drifted out from underneath the bridge now, heading down the Storway towards the sea, the rudder was free, sending it spinning as though caught in a whirlpool.

The last bodyguard had already saved his general’s life once, blocking a shot that should have been impossible to see, let alone intercept. But Forest was undaunted – there was no way this man’s training could have been as punishing as that given by the Father of Killers. There was no way he could ever be Forest’s match.

As the barge lurched violently, Forest charged, his approach meant to seem rash, as he attempted to draw the mercenary forward. But the man stood his ground, crouching lower behind his shield. With a flourish, Forest feinted to the left, then right, then left again, and cut in with his rapier, but the warrior anticipated his move, blocking it easily with his shield. Forest drew back, ready for the counter, ready with his short blade to slice the mercenary’s sword hand, but no counter came.

‘Kill him,’ shouted the general. ‘What are you waiting for?’

But the mercenary paid no heed. Forest almost felt sympathy for the man – he was clearly a far superior warrior to his commander, and unquestionably loyal. Nevertheless, he stood in the way of Forest’s mark, he had to die.

Forest leapt to the side, dodging the mercenary, sword raised high, aiming at the general. Seeing his commander was about to die the last defender rushed to intercept. Forest had counted on the man’s loyalty – on his determination to guard his leader with his life. A loyalty that would cost him dearly.

Twisting in midair, Forest thrust his rapier, aiming past the shield at the mercenary’s heart. In a last effort to save himself the man brought his sword up, deflecting Forest’s lunge so it only pierced his shoulder. He growled in defiance at the biting pain as Forest quickly tore the blade free, preparing for the killing blow. The mercenary staggered back as Forest lashed in again, but before he could strike the barge smashed against the vast stone curtain wall that ran along the Storway. The vessel listed violently and the mercenary lost his footing. He was pitched over the side, plunging into the water as the sound of snapping timbers cracked the air.

The deck was fast filling with water now, and Forest turned to the general. The man’s sword was drawn, his face twisted in anger, but there was fear in his eyes.

Forest advanced through the ankle-deep water as the barge smashed against the wall once more. He could hear the decking crack and splinter, the noise ringing out over the sound of the heavy rain hitting the river. The general was crouched at the bow, grasping his sword in a defensive posture. His form was perfect, but it was still not enough to deter Forest.

The general growled in defiance, pressing to attack, but he was old and sluggish, his best days long behind him. Forest easily parried and countered the clumsy blow. There was a clang of metal on metal as he swept the general’s sword aside, before thrusting his rapier into the mark’s chest. As Forest pulled his bloody weapon free, for a brief moment the general looked bewildered, as though he could barely believe he was dead. Then the light in his eyes slowly dimmed and his body slumped to the bottom of the barge.

Forest saw the vessel was headed straight at the stone stanchion of Steelhaven’s derelict Carrion Bridge.