Alliar

I looked up with grateful eyes as I looked to my rescuer, he was a handsome man — or so I thought — muscular, kind brown eyes hidden behind his honour and pride. He regarded me for a brief second before he pushed back my offender — the despicable man, one could hardly call a human being.

"Why should I listen to you shadow knight?" He spat out, his tone clear with distaste and contempt.

Shadow knight? I searched my tried mind for some information, trying to come up with anything. Maybe I should have payed more attention to sister Clairea's lessons for once instead of just scrunching up the old pieces of parchment and aiming for her head. I remembered the term at least, I knew they were a relatively new band of knights but other than that my mind turned up blank — the memories were blurred either from my lack of attention or the pain that was clouding my mind. Why is it when you needed desperately to remember something your brain fails you?

"The King is on his way." My saviour spoke out in a stern and commanding tone.

The surprised looks on the men's faces struck me as a little odd. He was their King after all and would of course be giving first choice of the women in the town to entertain him, so why is it strange for him to come their way? Maybe I was reading it wrong? Maybe it wasn't surprise but fear? If the men on the carriage were right then this King was in fact the Reaper King, so I suppose their fear is warranted after all.

I stole a quick sideways glance at the other girls lined up on their knees beside me. The girls were all petrified in place, their tears were forming a small pool by their knees as they silently sobbed and prayed for a swift death. Death. I never really thought about dying, I wasn't a fool or some sort of heroine as to say that I wasn't afraid of dying, being left alone in the cold was not something that I wanted.

The loud sounds of commotion outside had my heart racing beyond comprehension as the fear set in. My throat was closing making it hard to breath while my mouth seemed to dry and made me in desperate need for a drink. Maybe this was just a dream, a shocking and distasteful dream — no, a nightmare. How do you wake yourself up?

The door — a small, wooden, flimsy piece of bark — broke in two and fell to the floor as it opened and swung into the clay walls with such force that had everyone in the room flinching back.

I knew then that I should have looked down, adverted my gaze and looked away like all of the others in the room but once my shocked and wide eyes found the piercing black ones that seemed as dual as a cold empty cave in the dead of winter, I was stuck. The room fell into an eerie silence while the cold wind whistled in. I couldn't help but stare at the man, stare into his seemingly lifeless dark eyes. Power radiated off of him like a bad smell off a decaying carcass. I needed to look away, this man — the King — was about to determine my fate and here I was staring at him with no sense of submission, I was basically asking him to kill me now. I blame my upbringing, I was always told to keep my head held high and only drop my gaze for someone above my station — although I failed to even get that right. He was a king and the man who held my life in his hands, he held all the power, I should be begging, dropping my eyes and following the lead of the other girls but my pride refused to let me.

The King with dark eyes held my gaze intently for a moment, his eyes showed no emotion but pure irritation at my lack of respect and obedience as he narrowed them into dark slits that would have sent chills through my spine if I could actually feel the rest of my body.

A small nudge in my arm tore my attention back to the rest of the room and the here and now. I quickly looked down, giving in to the situation and silencing my screaming pride for the time being. My eyes found the dusty floor as I tried to gather up my thoughts and come up with an ingenious plan of escape. I listened to the soft shuffling of feet and inaudible mumbling as a pair of feet began to move into my view. I stole a quick glance at the line of girls with their chins on their collarbones and their eyes either tightly closed or on the floor, the girl next to me — who had nudged me with her shoulder to gain my attention — held a terrified expression on her ghostly white face.

The only thing I could compare her terrified expression with was when my brothers had stolen me away from my lessons for the day and taken me out hunting, they had killed a deer that day, a quick arrow to the neck — since Tristan failed to hit his mark. I had been no older then eleven when I stared down at the innocent animal slowly suffering and awaiting death. Her eyes were wide and startled, petrified beyond my comprehension at the time, I had reached out to her in an attempt to calm her when Arthur had picked me up and turned me around while Tristan put her out of her misery.

This girl was just like the deer, they all were. Innocent women caught up in wrong situation and were about to be abused and killed for the entertainment of a man. A sick feeling started to way down in the pit of my stomach at the thought.

The room fell silent once again and I found myself — like the other girls — facing the floor, on my knees with my hands locked behind my back at the mercy of men, men who no doubt had no mercy to spare. I watched as a pair of black dusty boots slowly paced the length of the room, his steps were careful and sure of themselves as he marched almost silently. I closed my eyes briefly as the shoes came to a dead stop just in front of me, the left one shifted on its heel towards me making me take a deep breath in and hold it for a minute to try and keep my composure and not show them my fear although I was sure I was quickly becoming a deer myself.

I was stronger than this, I was raised better than this. Even in death we must be fearless — Arthur's wise words echoed in my mind as if he were kneeling next to me and whispering it in my ear. He obviously had never faced his immediate death in its cold lifeless dark eyes before, fearless in death? If I ever saw him again I was going to hit him, hard.

The feet began moving down along the line of girls which made me release the deep breath of heavy air that I had been holding and let my shoulders relax. Gaining some confidence I looked up out of the corner of my eye and saw the King come to another stop in front of another girl, he glanced down at her quickly before turning his back to us in the line to beginning barking orders to the others almost silently. My saviour from before took a step forward and nodded before whispering something back, I scrunched up my face and leaned forward trying to listen in and catch the words being said but failed as I nearly fell forward on my face.

The King nodded back and quickly left the room without so much as a second glance. The moment he stepped out of the room the rest of the men seemed to erupt like a flame to oil, stepping forward the man from before who had been so heavy handed with me only moments ago grabbed hold of the young girl on the end that the king had looked at. He leaned down and grabbed the poor girl by her shirt front and pulled her up by the neck line of her dress until she was somewhat on her feet before he hulled her out of the room — half dragging her away until her screams became too far away to comprehend.

The other men quickly began to step forward as well, one of them gave me a sinister look as his green eyes found mine. I recoiled and tried to shuffle backwards, struggling to pull myself up onto my feet with my hands behind my back. Working my way back a little I froze when I felt hands on arms holding me still, the grip was firm but oddly soft as they moved down my upper arm and lifted me up onto my feet. Shocked and panicked I spun my head around until my eyes landed on the warm brown kind eyes of my saviour. His expression was different from before, stern and serious but his eyes betrayed him, they were softer, almost pitying. His eyes meet mine briefly before he started pulling me away and out of the door, away from the havoc that was soon to occur in that hut.

We were walking across the town centre — he was walking, I was being dragged — still alight with the flames of the burning houses.

"Where are we going?" I shouted so that he could hear me over the hype and tried to turn my head to face him.

He shoved me with his shoulder to stop me from turning my head around and tightened his grip on my hands still behind my back. "Shh."

"I have a right to know where you're taking me!" I dug my heels into the ground making him step forward without me and quickly pulled my body away from his grasp so that his hands let go reflexively. Finally free of his hold I wasted no time and started making a run for it, hoping that I could at least make it to the tree line.

One foot in front of the other, I was so close to the tree line that I could hear the soft hum of the birds and smell the sweet perfume of the flowers. If I just made to the tree line then I could easily get away, dodge my assailant and hide if I need too.

I was so focussed on the tree line that I didn't even notice the arm that grabbed my waist and pulled me back, winding me. My feet gave out under me as I hit the hard solid chest of the man I once called my saviour, now I was thinking of calling him a village idiot. I kicked out and thrashed my head around trying to wiggle my way out of his grasp but it was a useless attempt, he had me good and tight.

"Let go of me!" I screamed and tried kicking out at his shin hoping he would be one of those men who drop at the slightest inclining of pain.

"Stop fighting!" He squeezed his grip tighter around my waist.

"Never!

"If you run, they'll kill you on sight." He tried to rationalise with me as he once again began dragging me along in the direction we were originally headed.

"I'll take my chances."

"Not if you want to keep your life you won't." He said as he moulded himself to my side and looked around cautiously.

"Is that a threat?"

"No little one, a warning."

I looked up at him in confusion. I didn't know what to think, or, more importantly what to do. I decided to heed his warning for the moment and stay quiet until I found something more productive to say as he continued to drag me.

We continued to walk through the town and then the woods — passing a few people as we went, all wearing the same black armour with a blue griffin on the front of their chest plate as they marched back and forth with stern expressions and their minds set on the task at hand. His steps began to slow as we neared the opening a small, secluded clearing coloured with tents and fires. "What's going on?"

"Keep quiet, remember." He tugged on my hand making me come to a complete stop.

I pressed my lips together and pouted as he reached behind my back and untied my hands. Sighing in relief I quickly pulled my hands back in front of me and started rubbing at my bruised wrists that were covered in rope burn from my constant pulling and tugging.

"Come on." He said to me as he gently nudged me forward.

My eyes were flicking to every part of the camp, where ever I looked there was a gathering of men, some around the tens of fire pits — all within eyesight of each other. A larger gathering around a small creek that ran through the land, many men were there scrubbing the blood from their armour and skin, the sight made me sick — all those people dead, and for what? What in gods name made it worth all the chaos and mayhem?

I was gently pulled to a stop right in front of a large blue tent in the middle of the camp. I frowned deeply as I realised my chance to run had long since left me. I looked up with questioning eyes at the kind eyed man next to me to see his expression once again like stone. He swiped his hand across the front of the tent, pulling back the thin cloth that acted as a door and gestured for me to go inside. Hesitantly, I swallowed hard and took my first step into the room knowing that if I don't I was only going to be pushed in. The inside of the tent was full of dark timber, a four posted bed in the centre, a small table and chair in one corner, a large set of draws and a small chest that hid in the far corner of the room. I wondered further into the room and looked around, taking in all of my surroundings when the realisation of what was about to happen began to hit home.

You don't want to know what they do to girls during a raid. The words floated through my mind once more. My eyes darted around in search of a weapon of some sort. Something that I could use to shove into his throat and make him bleed out, my plans after that moment were a little hazy, although something along the lines of me running into the woods would be good enough.

The sounds coming from outside had my heart racing. I turned to face the door of the tent and backed away, my eyes looking desperately for somewhere to hide. Deciding it would be best to just run and save the killing for later, I ran over to the edge of the tent and dropped down to my knees, I put my hand under the tent and tried to pull it up thinking I could just roll under it and then make up the rest of my plan as I was running for my life. I started to pull at the material but my plan died when I realised the tent was well pegged in and not going anywhere anytime soon.

Damn!

Getting back to my feet I quickly looked around and found myself backed up against the bed post, my hands clutching it for support as my fear threatened to tear through me.

The tent door opened and the man stepped into the room, ducking his head slightly before he looked up at me. His dark eyes once again had me in a trance. The King. His dark almost black hair was tousled while his light amour that only covered half of his body was already half undone. The Reaper King, I was dead for sure.

His eyes blazed into mine as I stood there unable to move, frozen in place and unable to look away from his lifeless eyes. He stepped further into the room and reached up to his shoulder to begin pulling off his amour, all the while his eyes never left mine. I was sure he could see the fear in my eyes just as I had seen the fear in the deer's. My heart was beating out of control as he shrugged out of his shirt and threw it on the floor leaving him standing there in front of me with his shirtless, well defined chest and his trousers loosely hung on his hips.

He took a step closer.

"Please don't." I quickly pleaded as I tightened my grip on the bed post. Please don't, the first time I have ever pleaded in my life, my pride was being drowned by my fear.

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