The shorter pirate laughed, a sound like stones rattling in a jar. "That pearl necklace says otherwise, pretty bird. And I'd wager there's folks who'd pay good coin to have you back unharmed."
Jaygon's mind raced. He was no trained fighter—his strength came from years of labor, not combat. And yet, as the pirates advanced with blades gleaming, something shifted inside him—a clarity of purpose that burned away hesitation.
"When I move, run for the crates to the left," he whispered to Eloise. "There's a gap behind them that leads to another passage."
Before she could respond, Jaygon lunged forward with a roar, seizing a discarded barrel lid as a makeshift shield. The pirates' momentary surprise gave him the advantage he needed—he slammed into the taller one with his full weight, driving him back against the alley wall with bone-jarring force.
Pain exploded across Jaygon's shoulder as the second pirate's blade found its mark, slicing through his livery and into the muscle beneath. He gritted his teeth against the fire spreading from the wound, pivoting to swing the barrel lid in a wide arc that caught his attacker across the face with a satisfying crack.
"Go!" he shouted to Eloise, seeing her frozen in momentary shock. "Now!"
She snapped into motion, darting toward the crates as the first pirate struggled to regain his footing. Jaygon intercepted the man's lunge toward her, catching a wild slash on his improvised shield that splintered the wood but bought precious seconds.
The second pirate recovered quickly, blood streaming from his broken nose as he circled with murderous intent. "Going to gut you slow for that, dog," he snarled.
Jaygon backed toward the crates, keeping himself between the pirates and Eloise's escape route. He could feel warm blood soaking his shirt, strength ebbing with each heartbeat. If he could just hold them off long enough...
The taller pirate charged, blade extended for a killing thrust. Jaygon twisted away, the movement sending fresh agony through his wounded shoulder. He dropped to one knee, using the pirate's momentum against him, and drove the splintered edge of the barrel lid up into the man's throat with desperate strength.
A gurgling scream erupted as the pirate staggered back, hands clutching at his ruined neck. His brother howled with rage, abandoning caution to swing wildly at Jaygon's unprotected side.
The blade bit deep, and for a moment, the world narrowed to a single point of white-hot pain. Jaygon felt his knees hit the cobblestones, heard Eloise's distant cry as though through water. The remaining pirate raised his weapon for a final strike—
Only to stagger backward, a look of stunned disbelief crossing his face as he stared down at the silver letter opener protruding from his chest. Behind him stood Eloise, her face pale but determined, hands still extended from the desperate thrust.
"Jaygon!" she cried, rushing to his side as the pirate collapsed. "Gods, you're bleeding badly."
He tried to rise, gritting his teeth against the pain. "We need... to keep moving," he managed. "Others will come."
Eloise tore a strip from her petticoat, binding it tightly around his side wound with surprising efficiency. "Lean on me," she ordered, her voice brooking no argument as she helped him to his feet. "The passage you mentioned—which way?"
Jaygon gestured weakly toward the gap behind the crates. "Through there... leads to the chandler's shop. From there... we can reach the upper town."
They had scarcely taken three labored steps when the clash of steel announced another presence. Both turned, Eloise reaching for the fallen pirate's dagger, only to find Inspector Holloway advancing toward them, his uniform spattered with blood but his posture unbowed.
"I see you managed without me," he remarked, eyeing the fallen pirates with grudging respect before his gaze settled on Jaygon's wounds. "Though not unscathed."
"He saved my life," Eloise said firmly, supporting Jaygon's weight with unexpected strength. "They would have taken me if not for his quick thinking."
Something unreadable flickered across the inspector's face—surprise, perhaps, or reevaluation. "Indeed," he said after a moment. "It seems Baron Blackwood employs men of unexpected quality." He sheathed his sword and moved to Jaygon's other side. "We should make haste. The town guard has begun to rally, but the raiders have spread throughout the lower districts."
Together, they navigated the warren of back passages, the inspector's combat skills and Jaygon's knowledge of the town's hidden paths allowing them to avoid further encounters. By the time they reached the relative safety of the upper town, where armed household guards from noble estates had formed a defensive perimeter, Jaygon's vision had begun to blur at the edges, his steps increasingly unsteady.
"We need a physician," Eloise insisted as they passed through the checkpoint established by the town guard. "He's losing too much blood."
The inspector nodded, directing nearby guards to assist. "Take him to the baron's townhouse," he ordered. "I'll ensure Lady Eloise arrives safely, then return to coordinate with the harbor defenses."
As guardsmen moved to support his failing limbs, Jaygon found Eloise's hand suddenly clasping his. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes bright with emotions he was too weary to decipher. "I won't forget what you did today."
Jaygon wanted to respond, to tell her it had been his duty, his honor, but darkness was creeping in from all sides now, the pain in his side giving way to a spreading numbness. The last thing he saw before consciousness slipped away was her face, framed by golden hair coming loose from its careful arrangement—no longer the baron's porcelain daughter but a woman of flesh and blood and unexpected courage.
In the distance, the harbor bells still tolled their warning, but their urgent clanging seemed to be fading, replaced by a curious rushing sound like the tide pulling away from shore. As blackness claimed him entirely, Jaygon's last coherent thought was that perhaps today, for the first time in fifteen years of service, he had been more than just a silent witness to the lives of others.