AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I promise…
Her heart thudded against her ribs. She surveyed the tangle of bodies and clashing steel, looking toward the castle gatehouse.
That was where the real battle raged on. Guards loosed rocks, arrows, and hot pitch through the murder holes and machicolations. Blanchette watched in horror as the steaming black liquid drenched a peasant below. Guttural sobs burst from his mouth before he collapsed.
Then he was silent.
Mother.
That thought anchored her again. Her mother and father could still be alive. They might have escaped through the tunnels before being sealed off. It was a slight chance, a fragile hope, but she clung to it all the same.
I must survive. For them. For all of us.
“It’s the princess! STOP HER! Don’t let her escape! STOP HER, you fools!” A peasant—a boy, by the look of him—screamed over the commotion. He and three others heeded his cry and raced over, their swords and axes drawn. Sir Lionel made quick work of them, thrusting his longsword through their neck, gut, and chest with a beautiful and terrifying swiftness.
They gained ground that way, Sir Lionel cutting through attackers with his knight’s grace, Blanchette clasping the dagger in her trembling hands and inwardly chanting her prayers. Her tactics proved useful thrice more times, as she mortally wounded two peasants and slid the steel through a third man’s throat.
Spilled blood and bowels scented the air. She fought not to see more than she needed to or hear things she knew would forever haunt her.
She’d never sleep peacefully again.
“This way,” she said to Sir Lionel as loudly as her damaged throat allowed. “I know a postern gate. Along the castle wall, I can take us?—”
Molten pain seared through her. She would have screamed in agony had she any voice left. She felt herself buckling at her knees, then glanced down through hooded eyes and found a cut blooming on her left leg. She never saw the blade or the fighter who’d wounded her. Gasping for breath, she sucked in the cold, precious air and felt the rain pelting her body.
Sir Lionel cradled her in his left arm and fought with his right. By God, they were both going to die. She helped direct him in a thin voice, despairing as the onslaught of attacks grew increasingly dangerous. The howls of the kennel dogs rode the shrieking wind—a mournful song that sent chills down her backbone.
A mail-armored soldier hacked through two of her father’s men and stood toe-to-toe with Sir Lionel. Steel rang against steel as their swords clashed and cut through the air, the rain and blood glittering on the metal. The ground came rushing up as Sir Lionel dropped her to combat a counterstrike. Shaking in pain and dread, Blanchette flipped over and watched through a curtain of tangled curls as the knight and the soldier battled in a small clearing.
The dance of death.
The soldier was a poor match for him—a second of hesitation left his side open, and Blanchette felt a wave of relief as Sir Lionel buried his longsword deep in the man’s hip.
He freed the weapon with a grunt, swiped blood off the slippery hilt, and then turned back to Blanchette. “Princess, we?—”
An axe was embedded in Sir Lionel’s neck. He stared into her eyes, red spurting from his lips. His mouth moved, but the gurgle of blood drowned all words. The killer dislodged the axe along with pieces of his spine, and his glare fixed on Blanchette. A dark promise shone in his colorless eyes.
She fumbled onto her feet, clasping her leg, pain screaming through every limb, every muscle, every sinew.
He means to kill me, and not with a quick death.
I will die slowly.
I must escape.
I must.
I must.
I must…
The soldier snaked through the clamor of steel and screams and death with Sir Lionel’s blood on his raised axe. Fear and pain paralyzed her while she commanded her wretched body to move.
At least try, damn you!
She stumbled away as fast as her wounded leg would allow. She glanced over her shoulder, the soldier closing in on her.
God, help me.
