The sound of clashing swords startled Wyatt into full alertness. He had volunteered to take the first watch, as he didn’t think he would be able to sleep tonight.

How could I, after what I’ve seen?

Wyatt drew his sword. He wanted to yell to wake up his companions. He wanted to tell them that they were under attack. Something stopped him. He didn’t know if it was his own intuition or something else, but instead of telling them to rise and fight, he slowly moved to the door and opened it.

The sounds of fighting redoubled as the door opened to an almost deafening pitch. Wyatt looked behind him, confused at how anyone could sleep through this, but no one stirred. It was as if only he could hear it. Wyatt stiffened as memories of Talon and the darkness came to life in his mind. He shivered at the sudden chill that ran down his back.

He felt a flutter of wind like someone had just passed him. Wyatt jumped, nearly swinging his sword as he felt a gentle hand touch his face. While he couldn’t see it, the hand was warm and soft, a woman’s hand. It caressed the side of his face like a lover would. While most of him wanted to lean into it, the thought of Lea made Wyatt wrench his head out of the invisible hand.

“No,” Wyatt growled. He kept his sword in front of him and stepped into the hall. “I will not disrespect Lea that way. Stop.”

The presence vanished. Wyatt turned back to see the door smash into the walls on its own. Wyatt turned his head to check his people. No one had stirred. He looked out onto the courtyard and couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Archers, loose!” a voice full of command roared from the ramparts. Wyatt squinted. The shouter was wearing full armor and held a bloodied sword over his head. Archers alongside him were similarly bloodied. They fired down into the melee below, striking mostly Kulok. A few of Homestead’s fighters went down, but that was because everyone was so close together.

“Diev almighty,” Wyatt said, bowing his head at the devastation before him. Bodies were everywhere. People were screaming as they fought, slashing and hacking at each other like men possessed. A flaming boulder slammed into the middle of the courtyard, throwing everyone off their feet. Wyatt stumbled as the world shook, gripping the doorway to stay upright.

“You!”

Wyatt whirled, looking for the source of the noise. A sergeant was behind him, running through the Main Hall with a score of reinforcements at his back. The tables had been pushed to the side and used as extra beds as healers scrambled from soldier to soldier, tending to them however they could. “What is the situation, Corporal?”

“We’re holding, sir,” Wyatt said. One part of his mind was screaming that this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be here. He shook it off and snapped to attention. “By Diev, we’re holding, sir.”

“Good, now join the line and get out of the way,” the sergeant said. Wyatt saluted, running back to join the men behind him. Like him, they were all wearing white tabards displaying their affinity to Lady Claire. She was who they were fighting for, not this Diev-forsaken castle in the middle of nowhere.

The sergeant made it through the doorway and raised his sword. “Charge!” he shouted, sprinting forward. Wyatt and the other men shouted along with him and charged as well.

Even though it had only been a minute at most since he had last seen the courtyard, the situation had changed for the worst. The desert scum had taken the wall, slaughtering everyone on it. They were shooting down into the courtyard slaughtering his brothers fighting for their Lady Claire.

Wyatt bellowed, swinging his sword and cleaving a Kulok nearly in half. Within moments, the sergeant was down, and the command was foisted upon him. Wyatt seized it. “To the wall!” he shouted. Wyatt gloried in his kill as the man breathed his last and died at his feet. One less monster that could hurt Lady Claire. “To me! To the wall!”

One followed him, then another. Soon, enough men had followed Wyatt’s shouts so that a dozen men were behind him. All but Wyatt were wounded in some way, but it made no difference. Wyatt fought, unleashing his pent-up fury as he killed the Kulok with ease. Wyatt laughed as he cut through them like chaff. He was a god of war, and they were sacrifices to be placed upon his altar.

Eventually, Wyatt made it to the wall. Only four of his men were left. It was enough. They butchered the archers, killing them as they scrambled to get away.

“Throw down the ladders!” Wyatt roared. He grabbed one and heaved, panting from the weight as he toppled the ladder and the three men that were climbing it. “For Lady Claire! For Homestead!”

Wyatt threw down a second ladder, then a third as he felt a chill run down his back again. He looked and saw a beautiful woman wearing white. Lady Claire. She was walking away with her followers toward the Main Hall. As if she could feel his gaze, she turned around and stared at him. She smiled at him like a spider would to a fly caught in its web. Her lips moved, but he didn’t know what she was saying. He didn’t want to know.

He went back to the ladders, throwing another down. It wasn’t the same. Before, he was full of zeal and patriotic lust, doing his duty for Homestead and Lady Claire. Now, he felt like an actor in a play where he had forgotten his lines. He was bumbling through the scene, making it work but still disrupting everything around him and making a nuisance of himself.

There was a scream, loud and shrill. It was so piercing that it made Wyatt fall to his knees and cover his ears. With tears in his eyes, he looked over to the source of the scream: the top of the castle in Lady Claire’s bedroom, where she was no doubt performing the ritual that had destroyed this place.

The explosion was as sudden as it was violent. Wyatt was the only one unaffected by the blast. The entire area was obliterated as a vast detonation exploded out of Lady Claire’s bedroom, destroying everything in its path. It was a dark fissure of magic, an oily mixture of grey and red that killed everything it touched. It drained the Essence out of everyone and everything, leaving a ruined castle and walls that looked a hundred times its age. Bodies were everywhere, but they had been reduced to skeletons as the wave of power washed over them like a flood.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Wyatt surveyed the destruction slowly, beyond horrified at what Claire had done. “What is this madness?” he asked. His voice sounded hoarse as if he had been inhaling the fumes and smoke that were billowing from everywhere.

“This is the moment Homestead fell,” a melodic voice said from behind him.

Wyatt didn’t turn to look at the voice. He knew who it was. Wyatt closed his eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking as Claire’s hand trailed along his face. Just like earlier, her hand was soft and smooth and warm. It left goosebumps in its wake, and Wyatt had to stop himself from leaning into her touch.

“You are a juxtaposition,” Claire whispered, removing her hand from his face. Unwillingly, Wyatt opened his eyes. It was Lady Claire, wearing a gown that might as well have been see-through. Claire smiled, and it wasn’t a lady’s smile. It was full of promise that made him weak at the knees.

“You are so strong and yet so fragile. You carry with you so many secrets, Warrior. The burden you carry is weighing you down. Let me help you, Wyatt. Let me help you with your burdens.”

“And what would you ask for in return?” Wyatt asked. He could feel his lips moving, but he felt sluggish like he was wading through a thick miasma.

Claire put a hand on his chest. “I want your heart,” she said. At her words, Wyatt’s heart began to beat faster and faster. Wyatt gasped. He tried to recoil and to move back from her. He couldn’t. He could only stare into her cold grey eyes as he felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest.

“Stop,” Wyatt managed to grunt out. He tried again to move, but he couldn’t. It was as if he was stuck to her hand. “Stop, Claire.”

“Oh, I’m no longer Lady Claire?” Claire crooned. She leered at him as he began to convulse. “Am I not worthy of your respect? Your love?” She trailed her hand down and to his privates. “Your lust?”

“You’re a monster,” Wyatt said. He didn’t know what he did with his magic, but he heaved, pushing against Claire with all his might. It wasn’t anything physical. He didn’t move, but something snapped in his mind. Claire reeled back, a look of shock marring her perfect face.

“How?” Claire asked, her tone full of wonder. Something ugly flitted across her face, but it was gone before Wyatt could tell what it was.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Wyatt replied. He pushed Claire away, sending her stumbling back. At that moment, Wyatt also found himself back to where he had been before the vision, standing in front of an open doorway leading into an empty courtyard.

“Wyatt?”

For a wild moment, Wyatt wanted nothing more than to start yelling and screaming about what happened. But just as quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it.

“It’s nothing, Ako,” Wyatt said. He kept his voice soft so that no one else was woken up, if possible. The door slamming against the wall had been very loud. “I thought I saw something, and I overreacted. Go back to sleep. You’ll have the next watch.”

Ako mumbled something indiscernible before she went back to sleep. Wyatt smiled down upon her sleeping form with a keen tightness in his chest. Both Ako and Anton reminded him of Bella, his irrepressible little girl. She had sought out trouble with a gleeful abandon that had given him more than a few grey hairs.

Tears ran down Wyatt’s cheeks. Wyatt started as the same soft hand wiped them away gently. Claire’s hand. “Please leave,” Wyatt mumbled. “Leave me alone… please.”

She didn’t leave. Wyatt felt her presence stay with him as he gently closed the door, guarding the entrance in the darkness. He wanted to leave the door open and stare out into the night sky, but he knew that was a recipe for disaster. It wouldn’t take much for Yarran’s men to scale the walls, and if they did, it would be simple to find enough shadows to loosen a quiverful of arrows into him when he wasn’t expecting it.

He could still hear her voice. I want your heart, she had said. Wyatt had wanted nothing more than to give in to her, to forget, and to take her as he could’ve.

Out of options, Wyatt stayed where he was, Claire’s presence hanging over him like a cloak as he waited in the darkness for the shift to change. When the time came, Ako took his position by the door, and he could still feel Claire following him to his bedroll. He could smell her now, too, smelling as sweet as a rose.

And as prickly as one too, Wyatt thought, before he allowed himself to fall asleep.