Another two assassins come out of the kitchen, knives in hand. Many of the Duke's guards are down. I am in shock! How could this happen? Blood is everywhere, people are running, others are gasping for breath. What to do?
“Snap out of it, Solo!” Stillwater. “Protect the Abbot and the Duke!”
Gunnar yells, “Way and I have the Abbot! Halfy, use that bloody sword and be a hero!”
Stillwater turns over a chair and rips a leg off. I follow her, drawing my needle. It is too light, but I have nothing else. WayWocket and Gunnar run to the edge, trying to make it to Abbot Kamil. I see Seth and Belgrim moving towards the Abbot too. I am so glad that the Travellers are here tonight.
As we rush forward, two of the 'merchants' stand up from killing someone and look at us. Just remember what Kilroy said: ‘Only need half a span to kill someone.’ We have the advantage, longer weapons. Breathe, calm, and wait.
Stillwater stalks her opponent. She sidesteps a knife thrust and swings her club down on his arm. She rolls her shoulders, ripping her own dress, and smacks him under the chin. I hear the wet crack of his neck breaking.
My opponent is a similar race to Zlata; a half-breed. He snarls at me and leaps with his knife extended. Laughing at such foolishness, I step and smash his face with my hilt. As he drops, just a quick cut to his neck.
Althanis and Laura have taken out two others. Count Darel is standing over the Duke, stopping anyone from coming too close—even the surviving guards. I hope he has nothing to do with this.
Another two intercept us. Is it just me or are there more than before? I take some time to look around. There are at least ten different skirmishes taking place in the ballroom. There must be at least twenty assassins. No difference. Save the Duke and the Count.
This reminds me of my old army days—no style, just kill or be killed. I have seen too much blood these last few days.
“Solo, watch out!”
As Stillwater yells, a slice crosses my chest from one of these fiends. Care later, fight now. Stillwater steps up and hits the guy in the side of the chest. Blood spews from his mouth and he goes flying.
“Are you all right? Why did you get so distracted?” she asks me.
“It is just a scratch. Look, the way is clear. Let us help the Count and save the Duke.”
I do not know if he is in on this plot, but family is family. After seeing those two together tonight, no way our Count would attack His Grace. He is cut up pretty bad, but is holding off three people with a chair. Without even talking, Stillwater and I intercept one of the three and quickly finish them off. As we distract the last one, he turns and is clobbered over the head with the Count's chair. Good one!
Stillwater keeps her distance and asks, “Are you all right, Your Excellency? Solo and I are here to help. Two of my Charter are gathering the Abbot to help the Duke.” The Count does not allow us to approach. I do not want to do it, but for the Duke, I will take him out if I have to! I start moving forward with my sword extended.
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Althanis grabs my arm. “It’s fine, Solo. You can trust Count Darel.”
Beside him is his wife, Laura. She says calmly, “Your Excellency, these are The Rejects and they are here to help you, as are the Travellers. What are your orders?”
He lowers his chair slightly, with tears running streaks through the blood on his face. “Please, help me save the Duke.”
Stillwater moves to flank him, talking over her shoulder. “Any moment now, one of the best healers the Trinity has to offer will be here to help. We just have to keep him safe till then.”
Laura, Stillwater, and I take up defensive positions while Althanis checks the Duke. “Hmm, he appears to have been poisoned. From the state of him, it could be hemlock. I can delay it, but I don't have the power to heal him completely.”
His arms start to glow green like Gunnar's. He places one on the Duke’s head and—
“Pay attention, Solo!” I turn around and someone is nearly on me. I barely deflect his thrust. Being unbalanced, no counter. Everyone is busy, so I have to do this. From his thrust, he flips his knife and goes for a slice to my stomach to match my chest wound. All I can do is dodge and parry.
Need to find my footing. Screw it, I cannot just dance around all day. Go bold or go home! Stepping in and taking the knife in my arm, I smash my hilt into his throat, and again. He is stabbing me in the shoulder and arm, but I have him at bay. He drops. A quick thrust to his chest ends his life.
I have taken out three so far. How many are left? In the corner of my eye, I sense someone coming. I turn to attack and it is Gunnar and WayWocket with Abbot Kamil. Great, I can see Seth and Belgrim with them too. Where is Olive?
Count Darel visibly relaxes. “Kamil, please, save my cousin.”
He smiles a kindly grandpa smile and all my stress just flows away. “Of course, Darel. I have known Trahern since he was a boy. He is a strong lad. Everyone, please give me room!”
As we all back up, there is no assassin left standing. High Inquisitor Dale strides forward with cuts and blood on her formal robes. I go to block her. No idea what she is going to do.
“Out of my way! I need to help!”
Kamil looks up sadly. “He is dead, Dale, but with your help, the Trinity will provide. We need to do this in unison.”
They start chanting eerily together. It sounds like a chorus. Whatever it is, it is beautiful.
Wind is the breath of our soul and lives
Fire warms the hearth and allows us to live
Water is the gift of life and gives us peace
Earth sows the seeds and grounds us in reality
Life is the bringer of all we are
Death is the completion of the circle we see
Complete is the circle of our soul and all we will ever know …
A green halo surrounds Abbot Kamil and Inquisitor Dale as they chant.
We are the light, we are the sun
We are the fire, burning out what's not right
We are the righteous, hunting bringers of evil
We are the sun, shining justice through light
We cleanse with holy fire, we are the bringers of holy ruin …
Now the halo has taken on an orange glint. The sound of the chanting increases.
Know no opinion, only facts tell the truth
Hear no rumour, take only statements as facts
Seek not circumstance, only proof of the crime
Passion is chaos, knowledge is pure justice
There is no guilt or innocence, only law abides and there is only one way …
Blue is now mixed with orange and green. Each colour is fighting to mix with each other. I am speechless. Their volume increases and sweat beads down their faces.
I can see Gunnar and Althanis kneeling and praying too. Their bodies are immersed with greenish light, cascading from them like falling green leaves.
We are the holy fires that burn within
We bear the sword of justice with conviction
Our earth is pure as the cycle of life and death
We are the Trinity that brings clarity and purity to the mind, body, and soul.
A penetrating bright white light emerges from the chaos of colour.
“Trinity,” Kamil and Dale speak in unison in an eerie voice, “we beseech you to heal this man; not for his title, not for his honour, not for his mortal reach, but because he is a good man. His time has not come yet. Please, heal him, Trinity!”
A burst of bright light covers everyone in the ballroom. I am blinded but I can see. I can see pure beauty. I can see the truth.
Oh my Trinity! I am at peace.