Calypso Magic (Magic Trilogy 2)

"My lord? Well, my lord has explored Plymouth, visited ships, and spent time praying in church that the Tomlinsons would arrive in time. Now, if you like, we can have dinner again at the Waving Flag. Unfortunately I did not discover a more refined restaurant."

If Diana entertained hopes that this evening would be more enlivening than the previous, she was doomed to disappointment. Lyon drank more than he should, said very little, and all in all, acted like a man destined for the gallows. Either that, or a brother bound to take his sister to a convent.

She was so furious with him that she didn't try to keep pace with him on the way back to the Drake. Lyon, a bit tipsy, didn't at first notice that she wasn't beside him until he heard her yell.

He whirled about to see her in the grip of a rough-looking man, two other ruffians laughing and guffawing as they moved in for the kill.

She was struggling with all her might, yelling at the man who was holding her. He saw her elbow punch hard into the man's stomach. He raced back growling with fury when he heard the man shout, "Hold the little trollop, lads! Now, little gal, we're all payers, we are. Stop yer infernal struggling. My Gawd, I want to see me these titties! Lordie!"

"Lyon! Help me!"

10

Record in words one battle of this glorious struggle.

—VENANTIUS FORTUNATUS

He had no weapon, but it didn't matter. He leapt into the fray, dragging two of the men off her. He slammed his fist into one man's face, heard the crack of bone, and smiled grimly. He felt an arm grab him about the throat and he was yanked backward. He smelled sweat, foul breath, and cheap ale, and heard growled curses so vile even he was surprised. He sent his elbow back, low, into a man's groin. The curses stopped in a cry of pain.

The man who held Diana was distracted by his partners and loosed his hold. She whirled about and slammed her fist into his throat. He made a disgusting gurgling sound and stumbled backward.

"Kill the damned bloke!"

"Come on, you scum," Lyon yelled, his eyes on the man whose nose he'd broken.

Diana saw one bloody-faced man rush at Lyon, but it was the other one who was coming up behind him, a length of pipe raised in his hand, that made her go cold.

"Lyon! Behind you!"

But Lyon was too late. He spun about, but the pipe struck him solidly on the side of his head. He collapsed where he stood.

"Now, ladies," croaked the

man Diana had hit in the throat, "let's show this here little tart a lesson."

"What's going on here? Hold!"

Diana yelled at the top of her lungs when she saw two men coming toward her.

Rafael Carstairs said briefly to Rollo Culpepper, "A damned brawl. There's no hope for it, let's bash some heads."

"Aye, Capt'n," Rollo Culpepper said, his smile wide.

Rafael enjoyed a good fight and he fought dirty. Within moments, two of the men were dragging themselves away, the third was in a moaning heap at his feet, his hands clutching his groin.

He turned to see the young lady on her knees beside the fallen man.

He quickly joined her. He saw soon enough that she was indeed a lady, despite her dishabille. "Are you all right?" he said briefly.

Her eyes were wide and frantic. "Yes, but LyonOh, God!"

Rafael dropped to his knees and gingerly felt the growing lump on the gentleman's head. "He took quite a blow. His heart is steady. Where are the two of you staying?"

"At the Drake," she said, her eyes never leaving Lyon's pale face. "Oh, no, I can't believe this."

"Come, now, it's over. He will be fine." With those words, Rafael pulled Lyon up and hauled him over his shoulder. "Rollo, see to the lady. Damn, the gentleman's a load."

"He has a very hard head," Diana said to Rollo Culpepper.