A/N: Data here again... sorry this took so long to post, but Heir and I made up for some lost time :)
CHAPTER TWELVE
The sound of metal ringing against metal echoed across Gozo as Robert and Maximilian continued their desperate duel. They seemed evenly matched, neither able to seize the advantage. Finally, Maximilian grew impatient and drove his sword down towards Robert's feet. Robert swung his own blade downwards to block the attack, and Maximilian seized the opportunity to strike his adversary hard across the face with his free hand. Robert fell back, momentarily stunned, and Maximilian knocked his sword away.
"Did you honestly believe you could best me?" Maximilian taunted his adversary, the tip of his sword pointed at Robert's throat.
"I suppose it's against you religion to fight fairly, eh Bonaparte?" Robert retorted.
"I prefer to win," Maximilian growled. "Any last words, Maltese dog?"
"Why are you doing this?" Robert replied angrily. "What could all this possibly gain you?!"
"Revenge," Maximilian said simply. "Revenge for my illustrious ancestor, the rightful ruler of Malta!"
"Rightful ruler?!" Robert snapped. "Napoleon was nothing more than a ruthless conqueror who plundered and looted our country!" Maximilian's face screwed up in rage.
"Napoleon brought order and reform to your wretched island," he growled. "You repaid him with treachery!"
"You're insane," Robert muttered. "We rebelled against a cruel tyrant… the people of Malta will not be ruled by force, not now, not ever!"
"I have no interest in your little island… only the treasures that rightfully belong to France," Maximilian responded, seemingly ignoring Robert's protests.
"You're nothing more than a common thief," Robert muttered.
"I am an exceptional thief," Maximilian hissed. "and in a moment, I will be also be your killer!" He raised his sword to deliver the killing blow. At the last moment, a sudden quick punch caught him across the side of his face, momentarily stunning him.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?!" Oliver snapped.
With Maximilian briefly incapacitated, Robert wasted no time in retrieving his sword, and soon their duel began again with a renewed frenzy…
Meanwhile, Vicky found herself battling the cold waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Though she was a good swimmer, the frigid temperatures quickly began to sap her strength. By a stroke of incredible good luck, she reached Lilly before her blonde haired friend could sink below the surface, and quickly pulled the other girl to her.
"Lilly!!" she called out. "Can you hear me?!" She gulped back a few tears and screwed her eyes shut. "Our Lady of Liesse, save us…"
"W-what… happened…?" Lilly managed.
"It's gonna be all right, okay?" Vicky replied. "I'll get us to shore…" A loud splash nearby startled Vicky.
"What the…?!" A familiar face rose from the surface of the cold water, surrounded by a mass of soaking wet auburn curls.
"Miley!" Vicky gasped. "What are you doing?!"
"I'm not going to lose Lilly again!" Miley shouted, quickly swimming over. She wrapped her arms around Lilly and pulled the blonde girl to her. Watching them together for a moment, Vicky was struck by the sudden, seemingly intense moment between her two friends, but she shook it off; now was definitely not the time for questions.
"Which way's the shore?" Miley asked hurriedly, still clinging to Lilly.
"Back the way we came," Vicky answered. "Of course, that's also where the psychopath and his goons still are…"
"You brother is taking care of him," Miley muttered. "Let's just get to shore before we all freeze to death… or drown!"
The three young women made it to the nearby shoreline a few minutes later, and collapsed in an exhausted heap on the wet sand. Miley wasted no time in tending to the best friend who had come to mean so much more to her.
"Lilly! Are you okay?!" Miley called out, crawling over to her.
"Yeah, I think so," Lilly replied in a quiet voice. "I just feel… weak." She looked at Miley strangely for a moment.
"Miley, you… you came after me?"
"Of course I did," Miley responded, her voice growing husky. "I had to… I couldn't lose you…"
"I, um… hate to break this up, but…" Vicky politely interrupted her friends' tender moment to point into the distance. Miley looked up to see what Vicky was pointing at, and gasped when she saw a small fleet of police vessels rapidly approaching the island.
"Sweet niblets! What's going on?!"
"I'm not sure," Vicky replied. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Wait a minute… the ship in the lead… it's flying the colors of the Marquis de Piro!"
"Why do I get the feeling they all know what's going on?" Miley remarked.
"Beats me," Vicky quipped, "but if you ask me, it's about time our luck changed for the better…!"
High atop the cliffs above, the battle between Maximilian and Robert continued to rage. Jackson and Oliver's further attempts to aid Robert had proved fruitless, and now they could only stand by and watch.
"I'm… almost impressed!" Maximilian managed, deflecting yet another of Robert's attacks. "Your skills with a blade are much greater than I would ever have given you credit for!"
"I'm just full of surprises," Robert retorted, aiming another attack at Maximilian's head. The arrogant Frenchman deflected it as well.
"Not for much longer," Maximilian hissed. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of sand and tossed it in Robert's face, blinding his opponent. With a vicious swing, he again disarmed Robert, his blade slicing deep into the younger man's arm as well. Maximilian then lashed out with a kick to Robert's stomach, driving him to his knees. A second kick caught Robert across the face and sent him sprawling on the ground.
"Any last words?" Maximilian mocked him, standing over Robert, the blade of his sword glinting in the sunlight. He caught a blur of movement from the corner of his eye, and realized Jackson and Oliver were going to attempt another rescue. Spinning around, he caught Oliver across the face with the hilt of his sword, instantly dropping him to the ground. Maximilian then swung the blade around in a wide arc, slashing Jackson across the chest.
"Learn your place!" Maximilian roared. "No mere children are going to stop Maximilian Bonaparte!" He turned back towards Robert, who was still sprawled on the ground.
"Now… where were we?"
"Freeze!!" a cold voice barked, echoing across the cliff face. A small army of policemen suddenly crowded around Maximilian, their weapons drawn. The arrogant Frenchman's eyes narrowed in fury.
"Are you so frightened of losing you cannot even find a civilized duel alone?" he angrily challenged Robert, who still lay on the ground before him. "Miserable Maltese coward!"
"Hello, pot…" Oliver muttered from where he lay sprawled on the ground as well.
"Drop the sword and put your hands up!" the policeman in charge, eldest son of Nicholas de Piro, commanded.
"It will not happen," Maximilian growled.
"Drop it or I'll shoot," the younger de Piro retorted, cocking his gun. Completely ignoring the command, Maximilian raised his sword to deliver the killing blow.
"This is your last warning!" the young officer called out. When he was again ignored, he knew he had no choice. He aimed and fired. Struck in the shoulder, Maximilian dropped to one knee, his sword clattering away.
"Take him!" the young de Piro shouted to his fellow officers. They surged forward as one. Seeing victory finally, irrevocably slipping away from him, Maximilian became desperate. Reaching out, he grabbed Jackson, who was still lying nearby, and wrapped an arm around the young man's neck.
"Back off, or I'll break his neck!"
"No, Bonaparte," Robert's cold voice interrupted him. "You won't." Robert's own blade slashed through the air, and buried itself in Maximilian's back. The Frenchman's eyes went wide in shock and pain, not quite believing what had just happened. Then, finally, he sagged lifelessly to the ground, his cruelty and arrogance silenced at last.