| 22 | a sword
She wasn't looking for a knight. She was looking for a sword. -Atticus
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- Victorine -
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Nicolas drew a new arrow and aimed it at the entrance of the hall, while the other soldiers had dodged to either side and taken cover. As he did so, he had taken a few steps backwards to cover me with his back. It seemed to me that Nicolas wanted to push me back even further, but my feet were still as if fused to the floor, unable to take even a step.
They stayed in place to protect my sister. Even though she had long since disappeared. I had clearly heard her fleeing footsteps. And I had let it happen, I had let her flee.
Because she was my Crescentia. She was my little sister.
Because I had watched her grow up. Because she had come to bed with me at night, frightened, and I had protected her from monsters and the dark. We had laughed together, snuck around the castle, played pranks on each other, told each other stories. Helped each other dress, ate and laughed and lived together.
And all this time she really hated me?
Planned our murder?
The pain of this betrayal was greater than anything I had ever felt in my life. The knowledge of what she had done sat deep in my chest, spiked with sharp shards that slashed my ribcage from the inside. I didn't understand it all. And yet, on the other hand, I understood it very well, because I had gained insight into her mind and could not deny what I had experienced.
Nicolas bumped his back against me, bringing me back to reality and the present, seemingly hopeless situation with a jolt that jolted me awake. The soldiers would probably rush in at any moment. And Nicolas' firepower might not be able to do anything with the men's heavy armor.
"We have five people trying to kill us right now. Any ideas?", I whispered, now taking a few slow steps backwards along with Nicolas.
"Actually, there are seven," the man in front of me replied in a dry tone, his cocked arrow still steadily aimed at the entrance.
I suppressed a snort. "Sorry I wasn't specific enough."
And already the soldiers were rushing in. Nicolas shot the arrow and again, miraculously or infinitely, hit the narrow gap left by the soldiers' helmet. But the others kept charging, straight at us. And never would Nicolas be able to finish off the rest quickly enough.
I prepared to fight for my life with my bare hands. Against six heavily armed soldiers with swinging sword blades and protective armor. So I took two steps to the right, but Nicolas followed me instantly and hid me behind his protective back again.
Suddenly, a strangled scream echoed through the hall, after which soft, rasping sounds were heard. The soldiers turned around and stared just as we did at the rearmost man, who was just sinking to the floor. This revealed to us a view of a woman who was pulling her dagger out of the soldier's neck. Her face was covered with fresh blood splatters.
Instantly, the soldiers changed direction and ran toward the unknown woman. I took advantage of the situation to circle around Nicolas and run as quietly and quickly as possible to the sword that had slipped away from the first fallen soldier when he fell.
But I was not fast enough. Two soldiers whirled around to face me again before I could pick up the weapon.
Out of nowhere, a hot fireball shot past me and hit the two men in front of me. Their armor protected them from most of the damage, but they still let out cries of pain and each held their eyes with one hand, which had had the least protection from the heat.
I picked up the dead man's sword, lunged, and slammed it against the blade of one of the two soldiers. His weapon was so loose in his hand that it fell out and slid almost five steps away.
"Help!" cried the other injured man, who had become disconcerted by the sound, stumbling blindly backward and waving the sword in front of his nose. His confused comrades, however, turned back to us and turned their backs on the woman, who now bent down to the sword of the man she had stabbed in the neck. Then she took her legs in her hands and ran in a wide arc around the soldiers in our direction.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nicolas raise his hand and hurl renewed fire in the direction of our enemies. But they turned away quickly enough to protect their eye area. Still, they emitted screams. It probably had to be getting damn hot under that armor. The metal began to glow reddish and surely left burns on all the fair skin underneath.
But the soldiers seemed to grit their teeth, raised their swords, and strode toward me. I parried the first sword stroke and dodged the other from the second soldier.
Not even once would I be allowed to be hit. I was wearing a dress, not a single piece of armor. And the soldiers in front of me were in full armor. It would do no good to meet them anywhere there.
A soldier lunged and I took a step back to avoid the sword thrust. Then I shot forward again and hit the soldier's head with all my might. The helmet protected him from the slashing of his skin, but not from the concussion of his head. Dazed, he staggered back and was directly hit again by a jet of fire. He dropped his sword, ran screaming and with his hands in front of his eyes towards the exit, while the other soldier held his sword horizontally in front of the slit of his helmet. But he would not be able to fight like that.
I approached him cautiously, but he turned around and sprinted towards the exit. Then I realized that he was the only one who could still see. He tried to call for reinforcements and warn the others. I ran after him, dodging the blind soldiers who were waving their swords in front of them.
In front of the entrance to the hall I caught him. I lashed out and struck the fleeing man's feet with my sword, causing him to slip a leg, stumble, and fall crashing to the floor.
Suddenly, Nicolas was standing next to me. He was carrying a sword in his hand, which he raised.
"Stop," I groaned, extending my arm. "Don't."
These were also just men inferior to Cephas, carrying out his orders. Men who had families. They were fighting for their lives here. If Cephas learned they hadn't caught us, maybe they'd be killed.
Nicolas stared at me for two long seconds, then puffed impatiently and lowered his sword. "Let's get out of here quickly."
I exhaled in relief. We fled the throne room together with the unknown woman, blocking the entrance doors behind us with the help of a sword and thus locking the wounded, loudly panting and shouting soldiers inside. It would probably not be long before someone would take notice.
We walked along the corridors, which were surprisingly empty. Where were Cephas' hosts of armies and soldiers? Where was Cephas himself?
"In here," whispered Nicolas suddenly, who had stopped and opened a door of the corridor. Without further hesitation, I followed him into the room, which looked like a servants' storeroom. The woman also entered, then Nicolas quietly closed the door.
It took me a moment to catch my breath. Panting and breathing heavily, I put one hand on my waist and looked around. But there was absolutely nothing here to help us escape from the castle.
"Who are you and why did you help us?", Nicolas asked the strange woman instantly.
Couldn't we discuss this later at a more appropriate time? We had to get out of here quickly before more guards arrived. After all, it had been amazing that we had survived these eight here.
"I can explain that to you later, Highness. But your fire made the guards scream loudly, so we should leave quickly before more show up," she replied frantically.
My exact words. Get out of here as quickly as possible. "So let's go," I announced in a hushed voice as I eyed the door to the room suspiciously, expecting reinforcements to burst in at any moment.
"Wait a minute," Nicolas countered. "Why do you choose such a formal address to me?"
His words, and especially the suspicion in his voice, made me look up slowly.
We were in disguise. Very well, in fact. Anyone who didn't know us well would never be able to recognize us by our faces. Why did she know we were of royal origin?
But it was too late. I could not react quickly enough to the woman stepping behind me and, within the blink of an eye, pressing the blade of her sword to my throat.
I felt a sharp pain against the thin skin of my throat, tried to breathe as calmly as possible and to suppress the urge to swallow so that the blade would not cut even further. I could not even speak yet. I could feel a small, wet trickle of blood oozing out and running down already.
Nicolas had long since cocked an arrow in his bow, but the woman had hidden behind me in such a way that the menacing weapon was pointed at me alone. If Nicolas somehow managed to hit her after all, it would be far too risky. A small hand movement and the sharp blade would seal the end of my life.
For a moment, there was a tense silence. "What do you want?", Nicolas finally asked the woman. His tone was striving cold and dry. But I thought I could hear quivering anger hidden in the undertone.
"It depends," the woman replied angrily.
"On what?" asked Nicolas, changing the angle of his bow and arrow as if he were tracking the spot where he could best shoot the woman.
"Whether you killed the spy from Tenebris you captured a few days ago." Her voice, as well as her hand, and with it the blade at my neck, began to tremble.
My heart sank into my pants. I remembered back to the day I had arrived in Sanguis. Nicolas had led me into the dungeon and I had read the spies mind. It was through him that I had learned Cephas' plan. Through him we had set out for the sacred lands and the heart of the mountains.
I had told Nicolas not to kill the spy. That he simply wanted to return to his family. But Nicolas had not cared.
With a constricting feeling in my chest, I looked him in the face.
"The spy is still alive," he then replied. With one look into his eyes, I learned that he was telling the truth and exhaled in relief.
"But," he added, "if you harm her, I will be his long and painful death."
After that argument, I actually expected the woman to let up a little. But an even stronger pulling pain stabbed at my neck and I gritted my teeth. The woman pressed the blade closer to me and meanwhile also began to tremble more.
"I could take her from you," she then groaned. "Just as my son was taken from me because of you."
The woman seemed to be struggling to regain her composure and keep a steady pace of breathing, while Nicolas remained silent and looked at her intently.
"What?", I asked quietly and very carefully.
"It's your fault," the woman behind me hissed to Nicolas, ignoring me. "You captured my husband and wouldn't let him go. He could not return, which is why Cephas murdered my son."
Her voice trembled with grief and anger.
"You are mistaken," I gently prodded as the blade cut my skin slightly as I spoke. "Nicolas is not to blame. Cephas bears sole responsibility for the murder of your son. And he will pay for it, I promise you."
I didn't know if that was true. Whether Cephas alone was to blame in the murders. Or whether Nicolas was complicit in his son's death. Whether Crescentia bore a share of the blame for our parents' deaths.
But it had no meaning at the moment. Without Cephas, these murders would not have happened. First we had to stop the murderer. I was firmly convinced that everything led back to Cephas. That he was the source of evil.
The woman behind me tensed noticeably. "Yet he took my husband from me. An innocent man, simply because of his information. For weeks I suffered without any sign of life from him."
"I understand your pain," I spoke in a low voice. "I know exactly how it feels to have a loved one taken from you. To wonder every minute which is worse. That she's still alive but in pain, or that she's dead and redeemed but you'll never see her again."
I would have done anything for Crescentia. I would have given more than my own life for her. And I probably still would. She was my little sister. And I would have had to protect her from all the suffering that had befallen her.
The woman behind me breathed in and out a little more calmly. "I did some research and learned that he is in Sanguis. And everyone knows about the merciless King Nicolas and his torture cellar."
"Then why didn't you try to kill me long ago?" inquired Nicolas in a cutting voice.
"Because Cephas will take my second son from me as well if my husband does not return." Her voice was torn with simultaneous hope and anger and despair.
"We will kill him," I explained to her now. "And then we will free all who are unlawfully in his dungeons."
"Why should I believe you? Since when do you royal families care about simple citizens like us? " she hissed now, pressing the blade closer to me again.
Breathing quietly, I stretched my head up a little to escape the sharp iron a bit. "Please listen to me," I whispered in a weak voice. "I came all the way here. My best friend sacrificed herself for me and now she's dead. I fought my way through hell. All this to save someone. But I didn't make it. I failed. Because I should have started saving her years ago. And now it's too late. So, please, please believe that my only remaining goal is to save everyone else. All the innocent and all the suffering. Everyone who doesn't deserve this war."
My eyes filled with tears and I noticed my voice getting heavier and more choked. "I know that I am just one puny human being. I know that everything seems hopeless and we are all facing our doom. But I am not alone. None of us is alone in the fight against evil. No one knows if we can do it. But we must at least try with all our strength. The only thing we can do is to keep fighting. Not for ourselves, because then we will never fight hard enough. But for those we love and want to protect with all our strength."
For a few seconds there was silence in the room. Then the pressure on my neck disappeared, whereupon I turned around. The woman stepped back and closed her eyes, nevertheless tears came off her clenched eyelashes and ran down her cheeks. For the first time, I really looked at the woman. Her cheekbones were high, her skin sunken. She was scrawny and looked weak. The thin and few blond hairs that lay loose over her shoulders looked dry and sparse.
Nicolas walked slowly past me, towards the woman. The latter had opened her eyes again and was looking anxiously at the king. I began to tense up. But Nicolas stopped in front of the woman and held out his open palm to her. In it lay a silver key. The dungeon key of Sanguis.
The woman looked Nicolas in the eye for a long time. Then she carefully reached out her hand and took the key.
"In case we don't make it," Nicolas explained.
I didn't want to imagine what would happen if we actually lost this fight.
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