That scream had Cullen's heart leaping in his chest with an extra twist of anxiety. The woman's shout afterward told him it hadn't been Hawke's scream of pain, and he was back to total absorption in his own struggle. Andraste's pyre, the man was fast and strong. Every time their blades met, it felt like the impact jarred him through his shoulder and lower back.

Still, he was human, and he was losing a lot more blood from his slash than Cullen was from his previous injury. His steps grew clumsier by the moment, and he left himself open with a wild swing. Cullen ducked under the whistle of the blade and turned his sword sideways in his forward stab, slipping it between ribs and plunging it deep into lung. The man was coughing blood before Cullen could withdraw his blade, and had fallen to his knees by the time he did.

When he knew he intended to kill someone, he didn't prolong their suffering. He took his head in a clean stroke and looked away as it bounced down the steps. Instantly his attention snapped to Hawke's fight, just in time to see her down the other woman. He was breathing heavily, gaze shifting to be sure they wouldn't have more incoming surprises. "Are you all right?" He couldn't tell if the blood on her face was hers or the downed thief's.