The Devastation: Unexpected Circumstances Book 7 (4 page)

I did not hear them in time, but I saw swift movement in the sky.  I yelled at the men to raise shields, but they did not move fast enough.  As arrows fell all around us, many of the serfs near the front line were pierced and fell to the ground.  Shields went up all around, but it was not enough to protect them all.

“Advance!” I called out.  The slower they moved, the more likely they were to be hit.  I spurred Romero on, and he whinnied as he increased his speed.  “Keep up!”

The foot soldiers began to march forward, protecting some of the peasants and serfs with their shields as they moved.  The archers from Silverhelm and from Wynton were not close enough to start picking off the bowmen on the walls and in the towers—the angle was still too great at this distance.  Those with crossbows, which included Rylan, began to fire from the front rows—aiming for the knights on horseback.  The thick bolts drove home with enough force to pierce through their armor, and they fell noisily from their mounts.

The rest of the archers stayed behind the cavalry of Sawyer and Silverhelm.  They were prepared with traditional arrows to use at first, but once they were within range, they would rain down fire over the walls of Hadebrand’s castle.  I could still hear the rumbling of wheels on the road as the siege weaponry followed behind the rest of us.

We did not slow our pace, and as we reached the field outside the gates of Hadebrand’s castle, Edgar’s army moved forward.  I raised my sword up high, cried out to the cavalry, and led the charge as we rushed to close the remaining distance.

With my eyes focused on the men in red before me, I was in my element.  I rode without thought into the middle of the grouping, and my sword drew blood every time I swung my arm.  Romero snorted and pawed at the ground, but he also knew his place in battle and did not rear up or spook.  In the eyes of each man I encountered, I saw Edgar.  I saw the one who tried—and had succeeded in many ways—to hurt
her
.  I saw the man who was now holding her captive and endangering our child.

Though she was in the back of my mind and pushing me forward in my attack, I still dared not think of her openly.  I growled with hatred as I stabbed into the eye-slit of one soldier’s helm before I turned Romero in a wide circle and ducked to avoid a lance that was aimed at my throat.

From the ground, three men approached me at once—each holding a mace.  They were not in the red armor of Hadebrand but in plain, unmarked armor instead.  As the first approached, I spun Romero around and pulled back—causing him to rear up and lash out with his hooves at the first man.  The fighter was hit square in the forehead and dropped to the ground.  The other two moved to either side—flanking me and leaving me at a disadvantage.  I backed up my mount and watched them carefully as they drew near.

They both rushed me at the same time, and I managed to swing my sword at one as I kicked at the other.  It was not enough though the one who met with my blade was injured.  I felt the mace hit me in the back, and with a gasp, I fell from Romero and landed heavily on my side.  I rolled and pushed myself up on my knees just as my attacker rushed around and came at me.  His arm swung in a full arc, bringing the head of his mace toward my shoulder.  I parried to the side and knocked at his weapon with the blade of my sword.  He came at me again, and my eyes met with his as his mace flew through the air at me once more.  I jumped forward and reached for his arm just to slow the swipe, and my sword came around and bashed him in the side of the head.

He stumbled and fell, which gave me time to get back to my feet and meet his next attack without the disadvantage.  Our weapons clashed over and over as we fought, neither of us gaining the advantage over the other.

I felt my anger grow.  This man—this
mercenary
—helped Edgar in his plot to take Alexandra from me.  He may have even been there when she was abducted.  It was his type who had no loyalty or sense of honor but instead fought for nothing more than the pleasure of carrying gold in his pockets.  He sickened me.  They all sickened me.

I grabbed at his arm and linked it with my own elbow, holding the rough fighter close to me as I tried to get my sword around and in position to cut through his studded armor.  He growled and bared his teeth at me as he brought his forearm up quickly, knocking me to one side.  I spun around and swung my sword at his head, clipping his ear and drawing a thin line of blood from his neck.

He parried my next blow, moving back a few feet—back on the defensive as blood began to flow freely from the wound.  His next attack went wild and threw him off balance, giving me a chance to step in behind him and knock him to the ground.  My blade came to rest between his shoulder blades, and I turned quickly to call for Romero.

I did not get the chance, for when I turned around, I was met with a familiar face.

One I had battled before.

“Sir Remy.”

“
Sir
Branford.”  The captain of Edgar’s army now stood before me and sneered.

I took a short step backwards and readied myself.  He walked slowly from the left to the right, and we circled each other.  I looked into his scruffy, blood-covered face and remembered some of the things Alexandra had told me of him.  How he had treated the handmaids of the kingdom when they were given as tournament prizes and how he had often spoken to Alexandra as if she were nothing but common trash.

I growled as he sneered at me.  Unwilling and unable to wait any longer, I attacked.

I brought my sword up high and aimed for his shoulder, but he blocked me with his own blade.  A tremendous clash rang out from where they met, and I quickly side-stepped and slashed at him again and again.  I pushed with my blade as both swords came together, stepping forward at the same time and trying to wrench the hilt from his hand.  My shoulder hit his chest and arm, and his elbow came up to smash me in the cheekbone, cutting me with the edge of his gauntlet.

I stumbled away, quickly righting myself and gripping my sword between both hands.  I swung the long sword in a wide arc and again clashed with his blade.  As I did, my foot slipped in the dirt, and I felt the blade of my foe’s sword dig into my arm.  Sir Remy laughed and taunted me.

“This is what they call
King
in Silverhelm?” he said with another laugh.  “Is this all you have to challenge me?  Why, you are no more challenging than that so-called
commoner queen
of yours!”

I refused to listen as I went for him again, ignoring the blood running down my forearm.  Our weapons sang out as they met with more force than before, and this time as I turned his blade aside, I brought up my foot and connected with his chest.

It was his turn to fall back though I gave him little opportunity to right himself.  He continued with his jeers.

“I have had her, you know,” he yelled out.  “Shoved her on her face and fucked her like a dog.  I could not stand looking at that bloated body or that ugly face, but she was still complacent enough to take my verge without crying too much.”

All breath left me.  I told myself not to listen, for I knew he would say anything with the intent of distracting me.  He had done it in tournaments even when our lives were not at stake.  He had not touched Alexandra.  He could not have…

No…God, please, no…

With a scream, I went for him again.

As my sword hit his, I reached out with my hand, wanting to feel his flesh in my grip.  He parried the blow, stepped backwards and away from me, but I did not stop.  I grabbed for his neck, and my fingers found purchase.

I could feel his sword at my side, but we were too close, and he could not get the right angle to pierce through my chain shirt and into the leather beneath it.  I snarled into his face as our eyes met, and he glared up at me.  He moved swiftly and suddenly, and his forehead made contact with my own, sending me backwards.

Though I tried to keep my grip, my head spun, and I heard rather than felt my sword hit the ground beside me.  I fell onto my back, dazed and unarmed.  There was a low, dangerous laugh from above as I tried to focus on the shape of the man standing over me.  There was a glint of shiny metal in his hands.

“And so you end,” he said quietly.

I heard a growl, but it was not from my opponent; it was from behind me.  A mere half-second later, a dash of brown fur and floppy ears flew over the top of me, snarling and barking.  I heard Sir Remy yell and saw his form fall back and away.

I grabbed for my sword as I righted myself and shook my head to clear it.  Once I regained my vision, I saw Amarra snapping and clawing at Sir Remy’s leg as he kicked out at her repeatedly.  I stepped forward quickly, seizing the opportunity to drive my blade into his gut.

He stiffened and stilled, his cold blue eyes turning toward me as his weapon dropped from his hand.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came forth as I pulled my sword from his flesh.  I grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to me as I impaled him again, this time with a better angle, and I twisted the blade in a half circle inside of him.  A strange gurgle came from his throat as life dimmed from his eyes.  I threw him backwards, yelling incoherently at the body as it dropped to the ground.  My breath came in pants as I leaned over with my hands on my knees, trying to regain my senses.

Amarra walked up to the still form, growling low in her throat.  She sniffed at the blood coming from his stomach and chest, then stepped back, turned, and trotted away.  Apparently, she thought she had done her duty.

I could not argue with the sentiment.

Romero was still close, and Erik held the horse’s reins as he brought him forward to me.  I mounted the steed, and Erik followed behind us as I rode back into the fray.  Additional mercenaries and soldiers from Edgar’s army fell to my blade as I rode through their midst.  As more of Edgar’s men dropped, many of those still standing began to back away from the main battle and make their way toward the castle gates.

Though injured, our foes were still heavily armed, and Rylan pointed out the mercenaries in unmarked armor, not unlike the armor worn by those who had attacked my carriage.  It was the same type worn by the man I had killed earlier.  They all fought with similar maces and wore the same studded, leather armor.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.  It was difficult when there were so many enemies around me, and the blood on my sword was just beginning to dry.  I wanted more death.  It was the only thing that could distract me enough to keep thoughts of
her
out of my head.  I still dared not think her name.

My gaze fell on the two men in front who seemed to be the center of the mercenaries’ attention.  One tall man with a full beard appeared to be directing the other mercenary soldiers toward the younger lads with poor weapons and no armor.  The other was at his side, relaying his orders to the ones behind them.

The bearded man’s face held a sinister grin as he kicked a farm boy of no more than thirteen years.

“Hand me your crossbow,” I murmured to Rylan.

“Of course,” Rylan replied.  He took the heavy, crank-powered crossbow from the back of his horse and handed it to me.  He placed a handful of bolts in my hand as well, and I quickly fitted one into the slot and cranked it back.  I steadied Romero, placed the weapon against my shoulder, took steady aim at the second man, and pulled at the trigger.

The bolt pierced the man through the neck, and he dropped to the ground.  The bearded man immediately turned from his ally toward our direction, and I allowed Romero to take a few steps forward as my gaze met with the mercenary leader’s eyes from across the battlefield.  His eyes grew wide as he called out to his men to begin retreating.

Without looking away from him, I brought up another bolt and placed it in its spot.  I steadied the weapon in my hands after pulling back the bolt with the crank.  The tension in the line was perfect, and my finger barely touched the trigger before it let loose.

The bolt hit him square in the back as he tried to turn and run.

Rylan laughed.

“That ought to disorganize the lot of them!” he cried out.  I placed another bolt in the shaft and held the weapon again to my shoulder.  A moment later, another soldier dropped to the ground.  I pierced a fourth man as he reached the young boys in my ranks though the bolt only went through his leg.  The boys immediately seized the opportunity as he lost his footing, and they were upon him.

I handed Rylan the crossbow, and he took a few shots himself before we rode off with the rest of the cavalry toward the main group of fighters.  Parnell was at the lead, his sword swooping down to the unhorsed soldiers as two other horsemen surrounded Hadebrand’s men and jabbed at them with spears.

We continued to press forward.

Hours later, with the sun deserting us below the horizon, the clash of steel on steel could still be heard outside the gates of Edgar’s castle.  We had fallen back somewhat—regrouping and planning the next stage of attack.  This was where I hoped to truly take advantage and push the battle-weary men of Silverhelm just one step closer to their queen.

I found my thoughts invaded by images of her face, but I pushed them aside.  I turned Romero around and rode back to where the archers were collected, preparing for the next offensive.  Benjamin was there with the Master Archer from my own army.