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They seemed to be in a situation old Lord Myrthawnean would call 'quite the pickle.' Gusts of wind, almost certainly magically induced, separated the fog and allowed a volley to fly into their midst from the archers on the rooftops just long enough for the fog to return once the arrows had been loosed. A good strategy, Kayden had to admit. The assault that happened after the shafts had reigned down was as predictable as it was effective. He could not do much with his sword, and almost as little with his wit. He [i]did[/i] decide to grace Veronica with a smile that showed his white teeth. 

[color=4851AA]"Didn't you say you were the best archer?"[/color] He asked the future princess-consort. Truthfully, Veronica was quite good with a bow. If there was someone he wanted to guard his back with such a weapon, it would be her. Which was, in fact, the only time he wanted her around. As the aerial attack began, Kayden gestured to the pegasi that barrelled towards the group. Better to make Veronica determined and focused to prove her insufferable husband-to-be wrong rather than afraid. [color=4851AA]"Time to prove it."[/color]   

The sword that nearly took the life of an instructor caught Kayden's eye, the flash of steel causing him to whirl as the four swordsmen in the ground assault moved forward. Idly, he thought they would be more effective fighting in a bulky unit. Surrounding wasn't the greatest idea when you lacked numbers, and there were only enough swordsmen to keep their group's attention. Still, Kayden would protect Kellen as he had bade, as well the others. The footman closest to him swung at the prince, only for his blow to be a feint for a quick stab to the gut. Kayden's block was redirected and he leaped back in time to knock the thrust away with a clang of steel. 

Rather than giving the footsoldier time to realign his attack, Kayden pressed his own. A diagonal slash that would have taken the footman down were it not for his armor. His opponent blanched for a moment, but once he realized he was not wounded he cut at Kayden's midsection. The prince parried with the strong of his blade, the two now in a match of muscle. Kayden was fit, but he was lean. With a shove forward as if to try and strong-arm his way in, Kayden suddenly relaxed and let the footman's blade fly past him.

There was more to a sword than the blade. If the footman had forgotten that, Kayden reminded him. Stepping into his reach, Kayden moved behind the swing and slammed the pommel of his sword into the man's helmet, ringing the footman's helm like a gong that reverberated over the fellow's body. Like a stunned animal, the enemy slashed wildly. Kayden yelped at a small cut across his leg, but did not relent and suitably returned a more practiced cut to fell the man with a duelists grace. The prince then kicked him across the chest, letting him fall to the ground, his sword clattering where it lay.