XXI

Yoreno could hardly see anything. He moved through the smoke, coughing with his sword raised high.

An assassin came at him, robed and face hidden, two curved swordsin his grips. He jumped, half obscured in grey haze as he landed on one leg turned and slashed at him. Yoreno fell back, his sword clattering against the boards.

The assassin jumped again his form above Yoreno as he came in for an execution. Yoreno rolled as fast as he could and when he came to his back again, the assassin struck the boards with his swords. Yoreno lashed out with his boot, his shin guard coming into hard contact with the back of the assassin’s head. He went to the boards face first and stopped moving.

Taking up his sword, a bolt thudded into the floor in front of him, but its trajectory had been from behind. He whirled just in time to see his next opponent lose a second bolt.

Yoren moved the flat of his sword to deflect the missile but he missed and it clanked into his breast plate. He grunted heavily when it impacted. The bolt head had pierced his armor and had punctured his chest.

However it hadn’t gone deep, as most of the bolt was still visible sticking out of him. He grabbed it and pulled, growling viciously at the pain that came with that action.

The assassin, obviously feeling confident, smiled gleefully as he dropped his crossbows and unsheathed a wicked curved sword.

He came in fast.

Yoreno side-stepped the first attack and swung his sword in a horizontal arc, but the assassin turned and met him blade for blade. That was when Yoreno reached out with his fist and punched the man square in the face. The hit stunned him, forcing him back two steps before Yoreno plunged his blade through his chest. Blood came out of the assassin’s mouth as he fell.

Suddenly Yoreno went forward, falling heavily to the bridge floor from an impact he had taken from behind. When he turned, he found a thin assassin falling to the floor clutching at his neck with both his hands, Dantera standing above him with her boot on his chest, her dress billowing.

She narrowed her eyes. “Come, Yoreno! We must catch up with the king!”

“Where is he?”

“Making a run for the Bastion,” she said, offering him her good hand as she held her other arm close to her torso.

Yoreno took it and once he was up, Dantera turned and ran through the smoke, her form completely obscured.

She didn’t leave him behind—wouldn’t leave him behind. Dantera deflected another bolt, then turned and lashed out with her rapier, taking an assassin in the back of the neck as he finished off a castle guardsmen by dragging his knife against the knight’s neck.

The distaste on her face must have been evident to any who saw her. These… these assassins were cowards without honor. An ambush was one thing, but this was an ambush of ambushes. A sneaky underhanded knife meant to cut the head off of a great noble beast.

That beast being the kingdom of Aevalin.

“Come, Yoreno!” she called. “Keep up!”

“I’m coming!” he said. As soon as Dantera heard his boots thumping against the boards, she ran toward the king.

The smokescreen cast by these heathen assassins started clearing as she ran forward.

“GO!” Captain Cedryk screamed, ushering knights, adventurers, armored and unarmored through the gate. “SAVE THE KING! SAVE THE KING! GO!”

Dell ran through the gate as a sword was pressed into his hand. He wasn’t wearing any armor, but that didn’t matter. He was a knight, he was sworn to protect the kingdom no matter what, and that included the king.

The sudden castle warning bells had been a huge surprise to him, and now, after that signal, anyone who could pick up a weapon was corralled to this area of the castle and told to run into battle.

Boots thumping against the bridge, Dellwyn screamed, Sorika, Lev and dozens others in front and behind him.

Whoever was attacking the king would dearly regret their actions!

Dell couldn’t help but glance left as he ran, looking for any sign of Sorika in the rabble of warriors running across the bridge toward the King’s Bastion to reinforce the fight.

But instead of finding Sorika, he almost tripped on a body.

It looked familiar.

He stopped, others slamming into him from behind. He fell onto his palms and knees, his sword clanging against the polished hardwood. By the time he got back up, most of the group had rushed on.

Dellwyn knew it was her before he even turned her over.

“Mai?!”

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Her nose was broken, blood running down her face and chin onto her dress. In her abdomen a dagger protruded out.

She was still warm!

“Someone help me!”

Scooping her up in his arms, he started making his way back toward the castle.

Sorika slowed at the signs of carnage all around. If she got into a melee, she would be butchered like a sheep nipping at armored opponents. Instead of following the others through that grey haze, she picked up one of the enemy’s fallen crossbows.

Glancing about, she saw how the attack had happened. They had hid atop the rooftop on the bridge and repelled down on ropes.

They could play that game as well.

The rogue of the Emblazoned Party went to the railing, jumping up atop it and using the support next to her as a balancing poll. She leaned out and took hold of the hanging rope and jumped.

His King’s Guard was in tatters. At least two bolts were sticking out of Commander Ranell’s shoulder. The blood pouring down his arm didn’t even seem to faze him.

That was why he was a King’s Guard man—he was hard as nails and dangerous. He rushed forward, screaming for the king to stay behind him as he blocked crossbow bolts with his shield.

“Majesty!” he commanded. “Take hold of my belt and don’t let go!”

His constantly jerking forward and stopping was jarring King Branlin’s shoulder, but he had a solid body to hide behind as the commander blocked bolts and cut down enemies with his sword.

The large doors were visible, cracked open slightly as the servants waited to let the king and his party inside. They stood about nervously watching the assassins and the Castle Guard fight while the King’s Guard—what was left of them, struggled to get the king into the Bastion where he would be safe.

The commander suddenly stopped, raised his shield against two assassins and went at them sword and shield to sword and sword.

“Run, Majesty!”

Branlin let go of Ranell and ran for the doors.

Dantera’s heart lurched as the king ran for the doors, her eye catching Commander Ranell and his two opponents ahead of her.

As her eyes were distracted toward that direction a female assassin jumped down on the back of one of the portico’s outer pillars, a crossbow in her hand.

“MAJESTY!” she screamed, reaching out as if she could catch the bolt.

The assassin pulled the trigger, just as King Branlin turned to glance back at Dantera.

And then the crossbow bolt passed through his neck.

Yoreno come up short, his heart stopping and his stomach heaving as the king flinched, blood flying out of the side of his neck.

He fell heavily to the marble tiles just outside the Bastion doors.

Wide eyed and mouth open, Yoreno froze, not knowing what to do. But he couldn’t stop now. He glanced glanced about, looking for where the bolt had come.

“NOOO!” Dantera screamed.

Commander Ranell turned. “MAJESTY!”

He was struck down from behind by one of his attackers.

A sudden rage took Yoreno and he screamed and charged toward the commander and nearly cut the assassin who had struck him from behind in half.

Sorika jumped from the bridge roof to the Bastion Portico, just as one of the assassin’s climbed to the roof. It was a woman, her hair tied back tightly, her bright blue eyes shadowed under war paint.

Her garb was tight, but her cloak was loose.

Sorika raised the crossbow and pulled the release.

She had done it! She had killed King Branlin. Her name would be sung in the Halls of the Three Goats Tribes for a thousand years!

Pulling herself up to the roof of the portico, she made the determination that it was time to shoot the signal fire so her company could escape. They had sustained many—

Her eyes widened when they landed on the adventurer girl holding a crossbow not ten paces away.

Rynoria saw her put pressure on the trigger and she jumped. She flinched hard as she lunged on her elbows.

She didn’t even feel what happened to the skin on her arms.

The pain in her cheek flared hotly and she clutched at the wound, hot blood soaking her smooth leather glove, making the contact sticky and slick all at once.

She scrabbled to her feet and ran.

“Tch!” Sorika noised in frustration. She had missed her shot and the woman was getting away.

She had been armed and Sorika had nothing but a small dagger on her. What’s more, she was wearing a dress and couldn’t catch the assassin if she tried.

She balled her first and hit her thigh hard enough to make it hurt. “Tch!”

Yoreno cut down another assassin and hot blood splashed against his face and neck. The King’s Guard dragged Branlin through the doors as Dantera cut down two more attackers.

“Yoreno!” Dantera called, and he made it through the doors.

As soon as they were inside, Dantera slid to her knees and checked the king’s pulse.

“Is he…?” Yoreno began, but couldn’t finish.

She nodded. “He’s”—she swallowed—“he’s gone.”

Turning, Yoreno slammed his fist into the door.

“The king… he’s dead,” his last remaining King’s Guard member said, tears streaming down his face. “We”—he glanced about, realized he was the only one left. “I’ve failed my calling.”

“No,” Dantera said. “I have!”

She didn’t act it out, but Yoreno didn’t have to in order to see the anger and disappointment in her face.

She had barely made it to safety as blood dripped between her fingers profusely. Rynoria felt dizzy, but she would survive this wound.

At the edge of the Bastion, she removed her ram’s horn and blew it stoutly three times. It was the call to retreat. She slung it back around her waist. Letting go of her slick wound, she almost slipped as she repelled back down the face of the castle.

Their mission was done.

The king…

He was dead.

Breathing in deeply, Rynoria felt a tremendous sense of self pride and accomplishment. She would be hailed as a hero by all of her allies.

She did not smile. It was a grave thing, losing so many. And her wound… it was all she could do not to scream from the pain.

As soon as they were free from danger, Darga would see to her with a healing spell. Until then, she did not slow her descent or her retreat.

The attack had been sudden and unexpected for the most part. They would not have pursuers. Not right away at least.

Sorika repelled down the columns on the rope left behind by the assassin woman she had shot in the face.

She wasn’t certain, but the hit seemed like a near thing. Unfortunately the assassin had escaped. As soon as Sorika climbed down her eyes found the carnage of the battle, the dead bodies, the blood.

Yoreno came out of the Bastion looking tired and exhausted, Dantera behind him, her cheeks wet with tears.

When Yoreno saw her, he blinked. “Sorika?”

She nodded. “What is the matter?”

Dantera didn’t answer, she only looked away, chin quivering. Clearly it was all she could do not to break down and start sobbing. Seeing their guild leader in this state shook Sorika, but she kept her calm demeanor.

Bad news, she thought.

“The king…” Yoreno said and trailed off.

Nothing else needed to be said. It was so sudden. Her mind reeled with it all. Finally she asked, “How did this happen?”

Dantera looked at her sharply. “We failed!” she said.

Yoreno wanted to console Dantera, to say something, to give her some words of comfort the way she had to him when Cypia died.

Sorika and the others still didn’t know about Cypia...

Turning to regard his mistress, Yoreno didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He only put a hand on her shoulder.

That seemed to help, if only just a little.