Marcus’ shout of warning became one of rage, and he sighted down his own pistol. While he badly wanted to shoot the guard who’d fired, military discipline made him target the other, whose weapon was still loaded. The pistol kicked back hard against his hand, and the Patriot spun and crumpled against the rail with a grunt. The second guard turned, empty pistol still smoking in his hand, and Marcus could hear shouting among the other guards on the pier.

And suddenly we’re out of time. “Raes!” he shouted. “Get the gangplank!”

Tossing his spent pistol aside, he drew his sword and charged the bewildered-looking Patriot who’d shot Peter. Behind him, back at the stern, there was another pistol shot, but he couldn’t spare the time to look. Andy can take care of things.

He reached the guard, who was just tossing his pistol aside and going for his own sword. Marcus didn’t give him the chance, dropping into a straight-forward lunge that took the man in the belly and came out between his shoulder blades. Hot blood gushed over Marcus’ hand, and the Patriot slid forward and died with a gurgle. Marcus pull the blade free and let him fall, looking up in time to see Raesinia sprint past him.

The Rosnik was connected to the pier by a pair of heavy lines, and an articulated gangplank that came up to the level of her deck. This was lashed in place by a lighter rope, and Raesinia drew a knife and began hacking at it, even as the guards on the pier started to come up. Marcus realized immediately that she wouldn’t make it—someone else was climbing up the rope ladder where Peter had fallen, but they wouldn’t be on deck in time. He spun and stepped up beside Raesinia, swinging his sword blindly with a wild roar.

His sudden appearance out of the darkness was enough to startle the first Patriot Guard on the gangplank into lurching backward, where he lost his footing and toppled sideways with a yell, splashing into the gap between the edge of the pier and the boat. The man behind him had better balance and a pistol in his hand, and Marcus threw himself down just as he pulled the trigger. As soon as the shout sounded, Marcus popped back up, swinging his sword low and catching the Patriot in the shins. The blow and the pain sent him sprawling, too, and he caromed off the end of the stone pier with a nasty crunch before hitting the water.

“Shoot them!” someone on the pier was shouting. “Fire!”

“Got it!” Raesinia said.