Jeanne leaped into the space between sword tip and body, raising her own sword to deflect the downward thrust aimed to end the Musketeer's life.
Sword locked with sword, muscles bursting with adrenaline-driven strength, Jeanne pushed at her large adversary, holding him at bay for a few precious seconds—seconds in which the fallen Musketeer regained both his senses and his feet.
“Off!” The King's guard screamed, and somehow Jeanne knew.
With shocking abruptness, she released all force toward her opponent and took one quick step to her left. The bandit's mouth fell open in shock. Yellow, ragged teeth gaped from the hole that was his mouth. His body froze, poised forward as if falling from a precipice, finding instead the tip of the Musketeer's weapon. He continued to fall as the soldier d
