I watched, frozen in fear, as the giant's fist flew towards Mr Ambrose's face like a sledgehammer. Time seemed to stretch into eternity—emphasis on seemed. Because, in reality, the fist was moving fast and deadly. Barely a tenth of a second had passed before it appeared in front of Mr Ambrose's face and—

...and flew right past it.

"You missed."

He had moved so fast I almost couldn't see it. In a blink, Mr Rikkard Ambrose was out of the way, and he was staring up at Gaptooth with an icy stare that should freeze any man in place.

"Why bother pretending to count down at all?" He cocked his head. "Just start with ten. It's much more efficient."

"Rrrrraaah!"

With a bellow, Cyclops aimed another punch at his opponent, and promptly Mr Ambrose ducked out of the way again.

"My turn."

Two words. Cold. Calculating. A promise of pain to come.

And before the massive pirate could regain his equilibrium, my husband went on the counterattack. In one swift move, he hooked his foot behind Cyclops' leg and, with a hard tug, sent the man flyi—

No.

He did not send the man flying. Oh, he certainly tried to. But Cyclops didn't budge. Not even an inch.

"Bah!" The massive monster of muscle snorted, once more turning to face my husband. "Is that all you got, you little son of a bitch?"

Oh crap.

I had a momentary mental image of Lady Samantha, Mr Ambrose's sweet, lovable mother. Then I looked at the man who had dared to call her a Bee I Tea Sea H.

Mr Rikkard Ambrose's eyes frosted over.

"No. It is not."

Then he moved. Before the barrel-chested behemoth could so much as blink, Mr Ambrose had him by the ears and pulled.

"Aaagh!"

The thug stumbled forward, not so much from sufficient force to move him as from the engrained instinct all humans share to not have their ears ripped off. Without hesitation, Mr Ambrose's knee came up, and...

Crack!

"Aaaaarrrr!"

Clutching his face, Cyclops staggered back, disoriented for a moment. And if there was one thing that could be said about my husband, it was that he knew how to grasp the moment. His foot slammed into the back of the muscle monster's leg, and this time, he put all his force behind it.

"Son of a—!"

With an almighty crash, Cyclops slammed into the sand. Before he could get his bearings, Mr Ambrose was above him, raising his foot above the man's hand.

"Be. Silent."

His foot came down.

Crack!

"Aaaaanngraaawwwrgk!"

The anguished bellow rising to the sky made even me wince, safe as I was behind the palisade. I couldn't help but momentarily avert my eyes. When I looked back again, it was just in time to see Cyclops rocketing up from the ground, his mouth foaming with rage.

"I'll kill you! You piece of frigging shit! I'll! Kill! You!"

He punched. Once again, Mr Ambrose ducked out of the way of his right hook—but not the left that was coming from the other side.

Wham!

Mr Ambrose sailed backwards through the air, straight towards the edge of the ring. But this wasn't the kind of fight you could lose by crossing a line in the sand. The audience tightened around the ring until they stood shoulder by shoulder. Hands reached out to grab Mr Ambrose and push him back into the fight, booing and jeering. He stumbled forward—that is, until a meaty hand caught him by the lapels.

"You!" Cyclops squeezed out between his teeth, tightly clenched in pain, "You. Are. Going. Down!"

And he did. My fingernails dug into my palms as I watched Mr Rikkard Ambrose being slammed into the ground face first. Kneeling down, the behemoth pressed a knee into my husband's back. Mr Ambrose bucked, trying to throw off his foe, but to no avail. The giant was sweating and bleeding, but not budging an inch.

"Nothing to say?" Cyclops growled. "Not so cocky now, are you?"

In answer, Mr Rikkard Ambrose twisted one arm free of the man's hold and slammed it upwards, right between the giant's legs.

Squeeelch!

"Eeeeeaaaaagh!"

Mr Rikkard Ambrose bucked. His muscles bulged. The massive giant was hurled aside and, in the blink of an eye, my dear husband was up and above him. They grabbed each other, wrestling and kicking and snarling. Well...Cyclops was snarling. Mr Rikkard Ambrose was fighting with a silent, cold ferocity that somehow was scarier than all the world's worst threats and curses put together.

I watched anxiously as the two pummelled each other into the ground. My fingers twitched, wanting to strangle every single bloody man who cheered the goliath on and placed bets. Bets that, with every passing minute, started to be more and more in Cyclops' favour. On the ground, where Mr Ambrose couldn't get away from him, the big bastard could bring his full weight to bear. And while, under other circumstances, a sweaty Mr Rikkard Ambrose writhing on the ground might have been quite an interesting sight for me, right here and now, I hated every single second of it.

"Now," Cyclops snarled, "you're going to pay!"

And he wrapped one massive hand around my husband's throat.

I had to clamp both hands over my mouth to keep myself from screaming. If there hadn't been a wooden wall between us, I would have rushed forward and clobbered the bastard, pirates be damned! But as things stood, I could do nothing. Nothing but stare and try to murder the man with my eyes alone.

I was failing.

The big pirate bastard, on the other hand, was doing a fairly good job with murdering my husband.

"You see, now?" Cyclops growled. "You never had a chance! I've got you right where I want you!"

"What...a coincidence," Mr Ambrose squeezed out with his last bit of air. Through eyes narrowed ever so slightly, Mr Rikkard Ambrose stared up at his foe. "So...do I."

In a flash, his arms shot up. Slipping between the arms of the other man, he slammed them aside, freeing himself from the pirate's stranglehold and making the man fall forward on top of him. Then Mr Ambrose...hugged him close?

Hugged?

Honestly, I know my snarky subconscious had been making quips about a sweaty Mr Rikkard Ambrose rolling around on the ground earlier, but this was taking it a little too far, dammit!

Yet before I could protest and drag that hussy of a pirate off my hubby, Mr Ambrose's right arm slid up the pirate's back and wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard. In a blink, that arm interlocked with the other, trapping the pirate in a stranglehold. And, unlike the one my husband had previously been caught in, this one was completely inescapable.

Ha! So, all this time, it was a fighting move! He was just squeezing the air out of his enemy before starting to strangle him! And here I was expecting any minute now for him to lovingly wrap his legs around the pirate's waste and start to hump him. I was really a silly gi—

Just then, Mr Ambrose wrapped his legs around the pirate's waist.

Bloody hell!

I didn't know yet who was going to win the fight, but I knew one thing for sure: if Mr Ambrose didn't kill that beefy, bearded pirate hussy, I was going to!

As if hearing my thoughts and not wanting to be outdone, Mr Ambrose's grip tightened. The pirate's face reddened, and his struggles grew weaker and weaker. Muscles bulging, he put all his strength into a last, ferocious attempt to break free—and failed against Mr Rikkard Ambrose's iron arms. He was winning! My hubby was winni—

That was when, behind Mr Ambrose's back, the pirate reached into his sleeve and pulled out a knife.

For the very first time since the start of the fight, I regretted that I had my hands over my mouth. They muffled my panicked scream. And, while that meant the pirates didn't discover me, it also meant Mr Ambrose didn't hear my warning.

The soft sound of the knife driving into his flesh made me accidentally bite into my own hand. The pain was probably horrible, agonizing even, but I couldn't really feel it. I could only really concentrate on the scene in front of me: Mr Rikkard Ambrose with a knife in his back.

My husband jerked backwards with a pained hiss. Rolling to the side, he kicked the pirate away from himself, dislodging the bloody knife in the process. Then he jumped to his feet and took up a fighting stance. Half-turning his head, he glanced at the fat pirate leader. The icy look he sent at the living tub of lard conveyed his message without a single word.

Knives in a fist fight?

The man smirked. "Hey, we're pirates. What did you expect? A fair fight?"

Mr Ambrose didn't scowl or frown. His entire reaction was an infinitesimal narrowing of the eyes.

"No."

That was all he said before he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a sharp stone. Leaping forward, he slashed at Cyclops. It was only the massive man's quick reaction time that saved him from having his throat slit open.

"You son of a...!" Cyclops growled, rubbing his throat. "I'm gonna gut you!"

"Really?" Cocking his head, Mr Ambrose's foot lashed out. Slipping under the knife still lying in the sand, he kicked it up into the air, where he caught it effortlessly. Two weapons in hand, he stepped forward. "Go ahead. Try."

With a roar, the massive pirate pulled another knife from his sleeve and rushed forward. The two men's blades clashed in the air. With a twist, Cyclops shoved Mr Ambrose's knife aside and stabbed towards him—only to have his weapon deflected by the sharp rock in my husband's other hand. Taking advantage of the opening, Mr Ambrose dashed forward and slashed at the pirate's unprotected belly.

"Aaagh!"

The massive beast of a man staggered backward, blood staining his shirt. His cut shirt, which was gaping open.

"You...! You'll pay for that!"

In spite of all that had happened, I couldn't help but smirk. I very much doubt that.

"Oh?" Mr Rikkard Ambrose's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Will I?"

The two rushed forward at the same time and clashed in the centre of the circle. This time, it was the pirate who attacked first, stabbing forward—then abruptly pulling back from the feint and kicking out. The kick hit the hand Mr Ambrose had brought up in defence and sent his sharpened stone flying away. A sickening sound of pierced flesh came from someone in the crowd, followed by a scream, but neither of the fighters paid it any heed.

"Now," the pirate hissed, raising his knife, "let's finish this!"

Mr Ambrose mirrored his stance, muscles tensed. "Agreed."

Their dance began anew, blades slashing and stabbing in a silver whirl of death. Mr Rikkard Ambrose was undoubtedly the quicker one of the two, but Cyclops was the stronger. And now that Mr Ambrose only had one weapon to defend himself, that fact was making itself felt.

Wham!

The massive pirate's fist slammed Mr Ambrose's empty hand to the left while his knife hand trapped my husband's weapon on the right. That left Mr Ambrose wide open. Instantly, Cyclops' knee lashed out.

"Ugh!"

Grunting, my husband doubled over as the knee buried itself into his gut. Before he could right himself, Cyclops' intertwined fists slammed onto his back, driving him down to the ground.

"Stay down, bastard! Down in the dirt where you belong!"

"With...pleasure," Mr Ambrose grunted.

Then he stabbed his dagger into the pirate's foot.

"Aaaaagh!"

"Why don't you join me?" my darling husband suggested, coolly. And, with a swift punch, he knocked his foe's wounded leg out from under him.

"Gah!"

Cyclops slammed into the sand with a dull thud.

"What did you say before...?" Tightening his grip on his dagger, Mr Ambrose twisted, hard. "Ah, yes. Let's end this."

"Rrraah! You—"

"Silence!"

Rearing up above the other man, Mr Ambrose drew his fist back.

Wham!

The pirate's scorched ruin of a head slammed back into the sand as my husband's fist connected with his chin. And again. And again.

"I-I...will...kill..." Cyclops rasped, his sole eye gleaming with menace. "Kill...!"

"I. Said. Silence!"

Wham! Wham! Wham!

A fist to the gut. One to the chin. Another to the gut.

Wham!

A chop to the throat. Choking and hissing, Cyclops reached up to try and grab hold of my husband once again, only to have a thumb jabbed into his eye. The only eye that was still working. The yowl that rose towards the sky chilled me to the bone. In a good way. The big pirate jerked and writhed underneath Mr Ambrose, trying desperately to free himself, but my Mr Rikkard Ambrose did not let go, did not relent. Once more, he took Cyclops into a choke hold, and then raised his icy eyes to meet those of the fat pirate leader, Gaptooth, on his barrel throne far above the heads of the crowd.

"You wanted me to prove myself, did you not?" Mr Ambrose's arms made a short, sharp twist. There was a crack in the air, as if from a breaking branch. But the thing that had broken was no branch of any kind. With a thud, the limp body of Cyclops dropped to the ground. "Proof delivered."

There was a long, long moment of silence.

Then the fat pirate erupted into a guffaw. Slapping his leg, he laughed and laughed and laughed, his grotesque belly wobbling in rhythm with his laughter.

"Good!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Very good!"

Other pirates started to join in, cheering and shouting for how amazingly brutally the new member of the crew had just slaughtered one of their compatriots.

Mr Ambrose rose, directing a challenging gaze at the leader. "So, I'm in?"

Gaptooth nodded, his triple chin juggling. "You won your fight. You're in."

I breathed a sigh of relief—that is, until a smirk appeared on the pirate leader's face. "Now..." The man's smirk widened and, turning away from Mr Ambrose, he settled his gaze firmly on where I was peeking through the palisade. "It's your turn."

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My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

The somewhat scandalous move Mr Ambrose made during this chapter, this is actually not an attempt of his to make Lilly jealous ;-) This is a genuine Jujutsu move. When I saw this in a video, I couldn't help but use it for this chapter.

Yours Truly

Sir Rob