Meg’s head slammed against the side of the ship and she saw stars. Twinkling spots of light clouded her vision, the sounds of the ship muffled and faded out all together.

There was something wet on her shoulder. And her back. Oh, and now in her eyes. Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking as she wiped it across her face. Now her hand was wet. And red. She thought, it was hard to see when everything was dancing around like this.

Something slammed into the railing inches from her head, followed by a larger something. Meg pushed herself up, only to receive a boot to the chest as the larger something grabbed the smaller something. The pressure on her chest increased, and breathing became hard.

She reached round her back, her belt was tangled, but the knife was sharp and everything fell away as she drew it round and stabbed it into the knee attached to the boot on her chest. The pressure dropped, and she rolled onto her feet, grabbing at the thing stuck in the railing, and with an almighty heave, pulled it out and swung it straight into the stumbling person.

Red stained the deck as her vision swam back into focus, and the sounds of the battle raging on her ship cleared.

Meg had lost her sword, but that wasn’t too much of a problem. There was this lovely axe, just sitting there. She planted her own foot on the dead man’s chest and heaved the axe out.

Who cared about how much blood they had lost when there was a nice fight like this just waiting to be joined?