Through the Looking Glass (25 page)

He could hear Tuloch bellowing out commands from the other side of the wall and wondered where this door opened to.

“What’s on the other side of this door?” he asked the boy.

“This one opens out into the bailey.”

Jakar stood to the side and waite
d for the boy to open the door just a hair so that he could see where Tuloch was. The door made no sound as it opened. Rain dripped in off the wall above his head as he put his eye to the crack. Tuloch was standing not more than ten feet away from the door. He must have gone through the same passage when the call of intruders was sounded. The man must have been asleep when he heard the cries because he was not fully dressed, having on only his pants and boots. The glimmer of his sword reflected the rain as he barked out his commands to those running about in the bailey.

“It’s now or never,” Jakar spoke quietly. “Go back to the kitchen and out the back door. There is a hole under the wall. Go under it and find my men. Tell Brock that I sent you.”

“Yes, my lord,” the boy replied then took off the way they had come.

Jakar looked through the slit once again before making his mo
ve. He wanted to get the jump on Tuloch, but not if he was surrounded by guards. It would be a foolish move if he did so. The rain fell in sheets now as the storm moved in over the castle. The weather in Aslog, north or south, was always totally unpredictable but this time he was glad to see the rain coming down as hard as it was.

Once he was sure Tuloch was relatively alone, he stepped out of the door with his sword drawn and walked up behind the bastard
who hurt his wife. “I want you to see who is going to kill you.”

Tuloch’s body stiffen at the sound of Jakar’s voice. The bastard waited then slowly turned around to face him with an ear to ear grin plastered on his ugly face.

“Ahh… well, well. What do we have here?” Tuloch teased. “It’s the young lord from the north. Come for your pretty little wife have you?” Tuloch raised his sword.

“One of us will die tonight. This will end here and now.” Jakar was ready. He was ready to bring an end to the fighting his people had experienced for so long. He wanted to make amends to Isobel for being so blind and not believing her.

“So be it, Jakar, I’m sorry it has to end this way, but I will take good care of your wife after you are dead. I thought about killing her, but I decided I am going to keep her alive. I need a good fuck every now and then and she looks as if she is a good one. Tell me, Jakar, is your wife a good fuck?” Tuloch laughed.

Jakar was not going to respond to Tuloch words. He wasn’t going to give the man the pleasure of thinking he had gotten the best of him. No, he was in total control of his emotions. He wasn’t going to let this piece of shit goad him into making a careless error. He lunged forward and struck the first blow.

The two swords clashed together. Jakar swung his sword at Tuloch’s head but he ducked just in time to avoid being decapitated. He pushed the man back farther into the open while he swung his sword relentlessly. The adrenaline in his body was now being released. He felt invin
cible as it flowed through his veins, giving him a strength he never knew he could summon up.

Jakar saw others rush to the scene out the corner of
his eye but he couldn’t let them distract him from the one he wanted to kill. The men all had their swords or other weapons drawn and at the ready. They moved to help their lord, but stopped when Tuloch told them to stay where they were.

He and Tuloch moved through the bailey as the rain continued to pour down on top of them. His sword made contact again and again with Tuloch’s. Tuloch swung just as he turned the wrong way and was
cut across the top of his left arm near his shoulder. He groaned as he felt the blade slice through his skin. His enemy laughed when he heard the sound Jakar made.

“Oops! It’s just a scratch.”

“Shut the fuck up!” he hissed through his clenched teeth. His sword sliced through the air and made contact with a leg, bringing Tuloch down to one knee. He laughed this time and responded with the same sarcastic comment.

“Oops! It’s just a scratch!”

Tuloch’s eyes were filled with murder. In that instant he became the madman everyone said he was. A look came over his face that made Jakar think he had become possessed by the devil. He rushed to Jakar with a shriek, swinging he sword wildly. The swords clashed together over and over as they fought to kill
each other. A particular hard blow sent Jakar sailing backwards over a water trough he had neglected to see.

He scrambled to get to his feet but was pushed from behind with a foot. He landed on his stomach and rolled just in time to block the blow that Tuloch was delivering towards his head. Their weapons locked as
each man tried in earnest to press the swords down while the other pushed upward with all the force he could muster.

“What do you say now, weakling? Shall I give you a quick death or should I draw it out?” Tuloch’s enraged face hung over Jakar’s.

“Today is not the day that I will die…” The rain dripped into his eyes as he fought to shove the asshole off him. He had to admit, the man was strong for being up in age. The edge of the bastard’s sword was getting closer to his neck and he was afraid that if he didn’t make a move now, it would be the end of him. He let go of one side of the arm he was holding back and slid it down his side until he could reach the knife that was hidden in the waistband of his pants. As soon as he felt the cold metal in his hand he whipped it up as quickly as he could and jabbed it into Tuloch’s side right between the rib bones.

Tuloch
howled in pain as he fell to the side and landed sprawled on the ground next to him. He jumped back to his feet as fast as he could then went for Tuloch again. Now it was his turn.

He dove on top of the withering man and pulled the knife back out of his enemy. In a swift swing of his arm, he was in the motion of bringing it back down when something slammed into his head. The force of
the blow knocked him off the downed man. A kick to his gut next had him gasping for air as he tried to crawl away from this new attacker.

“No,” a strained voice called out, “he’s mine!”

Tuloch had regain his footing and was heading over to him. He could see the man out the corner of his eye as Tuloch walked hunched over to where he was down on all four. He raised his head to see who the other attacker was and was suddenly hit in the face with spurts of blood. The attacker he thought was a man fell into the puddle, dead before she hit the ground. Betsy. His eyes adjusted to the area behind where Betsy had been standing and saw through the rain Vic standing there with his sword covered in fresh blood.

“Thanks,
my friend,” he said then got to his feet in time to face Tuloch. “It’s time to put an end to this!” He gripped his sword with two hands and waited for the man to get close. He acted as if he was still out of it and unaware that he was in danger once again.

The sound of Tuloch’s footsteps slapping into the muddy ground was the only thing he focused on. He had to time his swing just right or he would be the one going down. A streak of lightning flashed in the sky and lit up the dark area. Jakar waited what seemed like an eternity
as he prepared himself for the deadly blow. The second he saw a boot come into his view he raised his upper body and jabbed his sword upwards with everything he had. He felt the minor resistance as the sword penetrated flesh. A scream ripped through the night air at the same time a huge crash of thunder rang out.

Jakar stumbled backwards as he let go of his sword. Tuloch had hold of the sword that had entered h
is stomach and protruded out his back. His eyes bulged out and stared at Jakar incredibly. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth as he fell to his knees. His lips moved but no sound came out. He knew he was a dead man. A crooked smile splayed across his dirty face for a moment then went completely blank as his eyes glazed over.

The rain began to slacken when he felt a hand grab his arm. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” Vic pulled on Jakar to get him moving. “My lord! He’s dead!”

Jakar came to his senses then nodded at Vic. “Let’s go.”

The pair ran to the back of the castle to find their escape route. Along the way bodies lay scattered on the ground dead or injured. They slowed to see if any of the men were theirs and found one. It was one of his men who he had not know
n for very long. The poor man’s eyes stared up lifelessly at them.

“Do we leave him?” Vic asked.

“No, he take him.” He bent down to pick up the dead man and was stopped by Vic.

“I will carry him, my lord.” Vic proceeded to lift the lifelessly form and toss him over his shoulder.

By the time they reached the hole under the fence, the rain had almost stopped. A slight drizzle continued to fall as they maneuvered the dead man under the fence carefully. It wouldn’t have felt right if they had harmed their fellow brother any further than he
already was.

Vic pulled the man through the hole then Jakar followed.

“Where are the others?” Jakar was anxious to get to Isobel and see to her wounds.

“They headed back to the cave. I told them I was coming back for you. Several other men came with me. I just hoped they were able to get out.” Vic patted the man he was carrying in a gentle manner.

Jakar glanced back at the castle and saw that fire had been set to several of the outer buildings. The glow of the flames lit up the night sky. He could see people running out the main gate and head into the forest. Some probably didn’t even know that Tuloch was dead and saw the attack as a means of being able to escape their wretched lives. He would have to leave some of his men behind in order to set things right with remains of Tuloch’s holdings. He would appoint someone who was a strong leader and soldier and who knew how to run a castle. His brother, Brock, was out of the question because he had his own land in the far north. So it would have to be someone he completely trusted and was loyal to him.

“My lord?” Vic called from up ahead. “Is everything alright?” He shifted his burden on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He walked quickly to catch up with Vic. He touch the shoulder that was injured and saw that his fingers came away with fresh blood. It didn’t matter though. He wanted to get to Isobel. Nothing else mattered at this moment except for Isobel’s wellbeing and by the look of her she wasn’t faring well.

It was still dark by the time they reached the cave and ducked inside. This time the cave was al
ight with several fires burning in order to chase back any shadows. They weren’t worried about being found anymore and needed to take care of those who were injured. The rain storm had chilled the cave considerably but as the fires were continuously feed with wood, the air began to warm.

Jakar raced to the area where the injured were lying on the ground moaning in pain or simply asleep. His eyes searched franticly for Isobel, coming up empty handed. He caught a glimpse of Lore knee
ling down next to a man. He called out as he walked nearer as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Lore! Where is Isobel?”

Lore looked up from what he was doing and pointed to the back of the cave. “She is back there with Brock and Loki. They didn’t want to expose her to the men.”

He nodded once then went to the back of the cave. Here the cave made a slight turn then went back several yards before coming to an end. A fire had been lit here too so he was able to clearly see Isobel lying on several blankets on her stomach.

He approached her still form then dropped to his knees next to her. “Isobel?” he struggled to whisper out. She looked so small and broken as she lie on the makeshift bed with her back exposed. She had been stripped to the waist in order for Loki, the best doctor they had while away from the castle, to examine the wounds that had been inflicted to her delicate skin. His eyes brimmed with tears and his throat burned as he forced himself to bring his anger under control. It would do her no good if he lost control now.