Page 48 of The Last Knight

Chapter Sixteen

The bedchamber was like something out of a horror movie. How could Gunther sleep there? The bedcoverings were black, the heavy draperies, a jacquard of sorts, were also black. The furnishings, a huge four-poster bed, nightstands and such, a dark mahogany wood. The only thing on the walls were a pair of swords crossed over the fireplace.

Despite a fire burning, the room was chilly. It was then she noticed the doors to the balcony were cracked open.

Out of curiosity, she opened a wardrobe and found Gunther’s clothing. Most of it was also black, except for some button-up shirts in lighter shades, a mixture of grey and blue.

The silence was broken by the sounds of grunts and stomping. She hurried to the balcony doors, but hesitated. Gunther had assured that no one would be able to see her, but it was still terrifying to test the fact.

There was a long black cloak thrown over the back of a chair. Aubrey took the heavy cloak and pulled it over her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. Then she walked to the doors, opened them and stepped out.

Dark and gloomy were how she’d describe the surroundings. Spindly trees with crooked branches intertwined stretched out for miles, it was hard to see any ground cover because a thick mist floated across it.

Grunts and stomps sounded again, and she went to the right corner of the balcony from where she could get a clear view of the castle’s courtyard.

What looked to be hundreds of creatures stood shoulder to shoulder in straight lines, their faces turned up to another balcony.

“The Yorians will not arrive. I have blocked their ruler from coming,” a strange voice, or voices said. “I will not be betrayed.”

Chills went up her spine at the words, not because she understood what the voices were referring to, but because it was the most horrible thing she’d ever heard.

She didn’t dare to look at the figure who stood not too far from her balcony speaking to the gathering of beings below. It was hard enough to look at those gathered without screaming in terror.

“All who are not loyal will die,” the voices said. “We are darkness. We are supreme.”

Despite the thick cloak, Aubrey was shivering. The coldness of the air was sharp and cutting. Ever so slowly, she finally worked up the courage to look at who spoke. A scream stuck in her throat.

It was Gunther, but not him. He stood with feet apart, his arms held out over the crowd. Black veins were visible under his skin, traveling from his arms up his neck and to his face. His mouth was twisted into a sneer as the voices spoke.

Behind him, two of Torants were bound by thick black ropes. They struggled against the bindings without success, both grunting loudly in the strange language she’d heard earlier.

“Death to betrayers!” He shouted, holding up a fist.

The creatures below began chanting, both in English and in their language, seeming to enjoy the suffering of the two who were bound.

Gunther turned to the two hapless males and took one by the throat, lifting him up as if he didn’t weigh more than a child.

Aubrey’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest, her eyes pinned to what was occurring. Gunther held the creature up as the male struggled, no one daring to interfere. The chanting grew louder and fervent, the pounding of the feet seeming to make the ground quake.

Finally, the male stopped struggling, his body limp and lifeless. Gunther let out a booming growl and threw the lifeless body over the balcony. It landed on the ground with a sickening thud; the limbs twisted in odd angles.

The contents of her stomach churned, but she couldn’t look away. What was happening? Why was Gunther acting so savagely?

“We are the ruler.” The voices erupted from Gunther’s throat as he grabbed another Torant, this one seemed paralyzed by fear, wide eyes moving side to side, mouth agape.

Without hesitation, Gunther tossed him over the balcony to the ground far below. No one could survive the heights, but this one did. He lay in a growing puddle of blood, lifting a hand up as if asking for help, and then the arm fell limp.

The ones on the ground cheered and grunted, celebrating. It was the most sickening, bizarre display she’d ever seen. Even in movies, something like this would be unbelievable.

When Gunther started to turn in her direction, she shrank back stepping back into the room. She had to get out of there. He wasn’t Gunther anymore. The darkness had taken over.

The darkness had won.

Tears poured down her face making it impossible to see clearly. Rushing to the side table, she grabbed the three items and placed the necklace around her neck, then she put the bowl into a pocket inside the cloak. Lastly, she unsheathed the dagger and tucked it into the waistband of her leggings.

How to leave the room was a problem since she was sure guards stood outside the door. She paced and then stopped abruptly catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror.

Her hands flew to her face, her skin felt the same, nothing like the reflection. Was it a mirror or a window” A Torant looked directly at her, its hands moving like hers.