Infante

He backhanded the damage he’d done, sending the fragments of wood and wood splinters into the air- just as Mary had stepped up onto a stack of barrels behind him.  She raised her arms, shielding her face from the spray.  Caught off guard- defenseless.

“No,” the Infante said, reaching to his left, while Mary was behind him and to his right.

In the doing, he blocked and caught a knife attached to a wire, that Mary had sent flying at him, while pretending to be on the defensive.

Crown-of-thorns-20-8