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Arya couldn't help enjoying the fight. The man was bigger, stronger and more disciplined than she was - and incredibly self-confident. In a fair fight he would have sliced her in half easily - but it wasn't a fair fight. A small burst of flame on his shirt distracted him long enough to give Arya an opening to put a knife through his guts. She mildly regretted it, but didn't consider it cheating. Nature had given him greater strength, but given her the greater advantage in the end.

The Thunder's crew started to panic, their shots becoming more wild. Arya found more men attacking her at once as the other ship drew closer to the Thunder from the other side.

The crew, ashamed of their momentary lapse, calmed slightly, attacking the enemy with renewed resilience.

The knife got caught in the folds of a soldier's chest and Arya did not have enough time or space to draw the next. Now weaponless, she had to retreat strategically or die. She beat a hasty retreat. Luckily, several of the men all tried to reach for her at the same time, getting in each other's way. She didn't have much room left to move, but the sailors seemed determined to take her alive - either that or they just didn't have enough elbow room to skewer her - and she managed to draw out the inevitable conclusion. When it came, it happened suddenly. One man delivered a heavy blow to her jaw, making the bones crunch. Arya staggered as her mouth filled with the acrid taste of her own blood and hit her head on something, she wasn't sure what. Dizzy, she couldn't make out exactly when they shoved her to the ground, tying her hands up behind her back, and nor did she know that she was blacking out.

Arya heard someone speaking and the voice seemed vaguely familiar. She frowned, trying to place it. She tried to turn herself over, her foot uselessly trying to find a surface to push against, fighting the darkening spots affecting her vision.

Arya failed to register what was going on. There was blood trickling down the side of her face to drip on the deck, her cheek left resting in it against the hard wood of the deck as her foot refused to obey her. There was a momentary lull in the sounds of the battle and Arya shivered, suddenly afraid.

Arya cried out as a jolt of pain shot through her, unaware of who had shaken her.

Arya tried to move her arms, but they were still stuck. She groaned helplessly against the floor, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. The noise wasn't making it any easier - the bangs and shouts were making her headache worse and she could still taste her own blood. She wanted it all to go away and slip back into unconsciousness, but the voice was insistent. "Richard?" She managed groggily.