by K. A Knight
“Ok, next part. I’m going to pretend to be passed out where they cuffed me. You are going to scream and shout until they come down. You tell them you think I’m bleeding out. When they check, I’ll take them both out and get you free ok?”
“Just get us out now!” Drax whines.
“No, if they come down and see you free they will run back up and warn them before we can stop them. We can't get out of the door with it locked. We need to do this one at a time ok? Plus, yours are shackles. Mine were only cuffs, that trick won’t work.”
I wait for them to nod before slipping into a ball on the floor over my cuffs. Looking up once more, I eye them.
“That motherfucker who stabbed me is mine, the rest upstairs are yours.”
They all grin this time, every single one filled with longing for blood. Laying my head down, I cover the knife and wait. They start screaming, the words blending into one another. I listen and smile when I hear the door unlocking. They stop screaming and wait as the booted feet descend the stairs.
“What the fuck is going on?” A man snarls behind me. I didn’t hear the door lock again so the plan is good.
“She's bleeding out. I think he hit an artery!” Drax cries dramatically. I stick my tongue out at him and close my eyes.
“God damn it.” The man curses before his boots sound on the cement floor as he walks around me. The air changes in front of me and I can see him through my slitted eyes as he crouches down. Fuck, where is the other guard? With no time to waste, I pop up and slice his throat. Covering his mouth, I watch as the blood spurts from the wide neck wound. When his eyes dim, I slowly lower him to the floor.
“One down, one to go.” Hearing movement upstairs, I search the man and come across the keys. Throwing them to Maxen, I slide towards the stairs and peek around. The guard's silhouette is clear as he stands with his back to the open door. What an idiot. Throwing my guys one last smile, I tiptoe silently up the stairs. At least the pain in my head is receding a bit, leaving me less sluggish.
“Taz, wait.” Thorn hisses. I ignore him and keep going until I’m nothing but a silent shadow behind the man. Not wasting any time, I cover his mouth with one hand and stab him in the back with the other. Twisting the blade, I feel him slump against me. Sliding him through the door, so he is hidden in the darkness of the basement, I let him slip down the wall until he lays in a heap. I press my fingers to his neck to feel his pulse weakening.
Searching through his pockets, I find another knife. Why couldn’t he have a sword? I can hear Maxen swearing as he fumbles with the keys. I slide around the door and eye the hallway. One end leads to what I’m guessing is the front door. Cocking my head, I listen to at least three men talking in a room at the other end. Using the shadows, I slide across the floorboards silently. When I reach the door frame, I peek around before pulling my head back. Ok, four men. I jump when a hand rests on my shoulder. Drax looks grim next to me.
“Maxen and Thorn are going upstairs to check. Jax will take the front door.” His whisper is almost silent and I nod my understanding.
“Four men,” I whisper back.
“Two each.” He grins at me and darts in for a quick kiss before rushing across the open doorway next to me to stand on the other side of the frame. He drops his fingers from three, to two, and then one. We both burst into the room at the same time, my knife already in motion through the air. It hits a man through his shoulder and he falls with a cry. Running, I use the table as a leapfrog and land on him, pulling the blade out as he falls to the floor. Rolling away, I fling myself to my feet and hold both blades out, waiting. Another man charges at me and I spin to avoid the punch and cut his back as I go. He cries out, but swings around like a bull, managing to catch my injured shoulder.
I snap, and fling myself at him, hacking as I go. Until he’s nothing but a bloody carcass on the floor. Rolling to my feet, I throw my knife at the man trying to sneak up on Drax. With a grin, I grab my sword from the table. I blame the head wound for me not noticing it sooner, and then I gut the man whose shoulder I injured.
“My sword, asshole.” Turning to Drax, I see him nod as the last man falls to the floor. He tosses me my knife which I jimmy into the waistband of my jeans. A banging sounds on the stairs and I watch in amusement as Maxen drags in the crying torturer. His nose is burst like a grapefruit, his blood mixing with his tears. Maxen throws him on the floor before walking over to me. He gives me a once over before swooping in for a quick hot kiss.
“He's all yours, Mi Alma.” I grin as he steps back.
“On the chair please, Drax,” I instruct as I wipe my sword on the dead man at my feet. Thorn saunters in with my other sword in his grasp and I smile gratefully at him. I would have hated to have to burn this place down looking for them. Nobody touches my fucking weapons.
Drax drags the man into a kitchen chair and pushes him down none too gently. Using the table to steady myself, since the adrenaline is retreating and the pain returning, I lean back in front of him.
“Are you working with the Berserkers?” I ask kindly as he watches me in fear. He swallows hard but doesn’t answer. I was really hoping he wouldn’t. Straightening, I wait.
“I warned you what I would do…” I whisper before driving my fist into his stomach. Gasping, he bends over. I grab his hair like he did to me and yank his head back.
“Are you working for the Berserkers?”
“Y-yes.” He wheezes. Letting go of his head, it drops down before he lifts it up with a glare.
“Is your leader?” I ask.
He licks his lips and I grin. Using the same knife he stabbed me with, I slowly push it into his shoulder. He screams raggedly as it cuts into his flesh.
“Please, please stop. I’ll tell you!” I stop but don’t remove the knife. “No, only some of us.” He cries. He shivers in pain and then cries when it jolts the knife.
“Does Ivar know I’m here? And don’t lie to me,” I warn, my mouth on his ear with the blade still in his shoulder. He whimpers but doesn’t answer. Smiling ferally, I twist the knife and pull my head back. I slowly slide the blade out, widening the wound as I go. He screams wordlessly and the smell of piss hits the air.
“I’m only just getting started. You do know that I learnt from him right? That I know all his little tricks? The best ways to keep your subject alive as you play with them. The places that cause the most pain...” I lick my lips, tasting my own blood and he whimpers again.
“No, he doesn't know. I needed to be sure it was you- please, please just let me go.”
“Let you go?” I ask.
He nods “I told you everything.” He cries.
“Oh, darling I’m not letting you go. I’m going to have some fun until your leader arrives. I'm betting they heard the screams by now and then I will give you to him.” His eyes widen further. “Oh yes, I've heard all about the ways he treats traitors.”
He throws his head from side to side as his words blur together pleadingly. Jax comes into the room. “Your friend and some men are heading this way.” I sigh sadly.
“Guess our time’s up, buddy. Don’t worry I’m sure you'll get what you deserve.” Stepping back, I swing myself up on the table and wait.
Not one minute later, Cal marches through the door, his footsteps loud as he hurries to where we wait. He stops, looking at me and then the man in the chair.
“You look like shit.” He steps further into the room, letting the men in behind him. I tense but don’t move.
“Thanks, I guess they decided I needed a facelift.” He snorts and then looks in disgust at the blubbering man in the chair. “You ok?”
I nod and wince as my shoulder pulls.
“Yeah, did you sort out that meeting with Priest? It seems we have a lot to talk about.” The man in the chair screams at his leader's name and throws himself on the floor trying to crawl through the men's legs.
Cal sigh and rubs his face wearily. “Yes. Come on, I’ll take you there, he’ll want to know wha
t went down here.” Turning to the other men, he points at the bag of shit on the floor. “Bring him with us.”
Sliding off the table, I go to Maxen, and ignoring everyone else, I twine my good hand with his, seeking comfort. Smiling down at me, the love is clear in his eyes. My body tires now the adrenaline is running out and I use him to help support myself.
“Come on, Mi Alma. Let’s go extend your invitation.”
◆◆◆
We are marched across the town and into the church. Guards stop and stare and whisper between themselves. Ignoring them, I keep my hand in Maxen’s, uncaring if it looks weak.
The church rises before us like some avenging god, flags with suns on them proudly displayed. Grey bricks make up the church, with a towering bell tower in the middle. Two open brown wooden doors are framed by carvings and gargoyles.
Cal ignores everything and quickly marches us through the open doors and down the centre walkway. The red faded carpet is branched off into the wooden pews, light flowing into the area from big arched windows on each aisle.
A lone man waits at the end of the altar. Holy shit, he's actually dressed in priest robes. I guess the name makes sense now. I stop before him, my men spread out behind me protectively. I frown at the skeletal figure in robes he is bowing to, the statue looking like the personification of death.
Priest’s hair is cut short, black and wavy, styled to perfection. His face is clean shaven and looks friendly but his eyes say differently. He’s small, smaller than I expected. He’s about my height, and skinnier than nearly every man in here. He doesn't even feel powerful, he feels like a regular man. Not even one I would fear. Yet, there must be something about him. He couldn't lead a cult or be so feared if not.
“This is Worth, my lord.” Cal bows and steps back into the rest of the guards. Priest eyes me, his gaze cold and calculating. Intelligence shines in his eyes, so different from the craziness I expected of a cult leader.
“I hear you were attacked.” His voice is smooth and cultured like we are discussing meal choices.
A strained laugh busts out of me, making him arch his eyebrow at me. “You could say that. It seems you have some traitors in your midst.” I offer. His face loses all emotion, it’s like looking at a statue. One that can kill you without even lifting his arm. He looks at the guards, and without speaking, they drag my kidnapper forward.
“This man?” Priest asks as he slowly walks down the steps towards him.
“Yes. He admitted he is working for the Berserkers and so are some in your-“ I cut off at the word cult and cough out the next part “church.” He smiles knowingly before it wipes clear and he looks to the man at his feet.
“Oh, Gabriel. You know what the price for this betrayal is? I can’t have one of my flock betraying our faith.” Gabriel struggles and screams raggedly through the gag someone must have put on him. Priest gestures idly.
“Take him to Jophiel. Get me the truth and the names of the other men working with him.” The guard nod and drags him away. Poor bastard.
“Now that nasty business is out of the way, would you like a drink?” Priest offers, watching me idly.
“No thanks. I'm here to extend you an invitation and you can understand when I say I would like to be in and out of here as soon as possible.”
Tsking, he stops in front of me. “Fine, champion, my man tells me you are trustworthy. He is loyal so I shall believe him, but only so far.”
I nod in understanding, the blood is still dripping from my wound, soaking into my shirt and I’m starting to feel weak from it.
“I would be inclined to trust you more if you pass a test.” He offers. Cal makes a noise but falls to his knees as Priest looks at him.
“What test would that be?” I ask, willing to do anything to hurry this up. There is something wrong about this place.
“Sacrifice, you must lose that which is precious, to show your devotion.” Inside I panic, what the hell does he mean sacrifice?
“How?” I ask slowly. I can almost sense my men shifting with unease.
“Sacrifice what is yours. Give freely to our God for judgement.”
Fuck, does this guy always speak in riddles? My head is hurting from earlier, and trying to think through this is causing pain to batter against my nerves. His eyes drop to my blood for a split second, but it's enough for me to know what he means. Gritting my teeth, I pull out a blade and hold it against my wounded shoulder. Careful of the blood glistening on the end, I hand it across to Priest. He smiles at me before turning to the altar.
He kneels before it, the knife balanced on his hands in an offering. I don’t even try to figure out his mumbling before he uses his fingers to spread my blood on the face of the skeleton.
He speaks again before nodding and standing. Turning to face me, he offers me my blade back. I hesitantly take it and slide it away.
“You are to be trusted. You are strong, with a great destiny about you. You will lead us from the darkness.”
Ookkaay. Time to get of this crazy train.
“Now, for the reason why you are here.” He says conversationally, my blood still coating his fingers. While I watch, he raises them to his lips and sucks them clean. Nope, not today crazy. I can’t wait to get out of here.
“There has been a Summit called,” I rush out. His eyes widen and then close down.
“What for?”
“The Berserkers. As you can see, they are getting bolder. They are attacking clan lines and soon there will be war. The Seekers and Reeves both wait in a parlay at The Ring. They ask you to join them in four days.”
“Interesting. Alas, I fear you are right. My flock have been attacked at our borders. They even tried to take one of my wives.” He shivers, his eyes shining with sadness. His emotion is clear but there's something off about it like he's unsure if it’s right and is faking it.
“Do you accept the invitation?” I ask tiredly, my pain making me bold or stupid.
“Can I ask you one thing, champion?” He says, stepping closer.
I nod, gritting my teeth.
“Will you fight with us? If that is what it comes to? Will you fight the Berserkers or will you run away again?” He sneers the last part, ignoring the anger on my face. My voice is clear as day as it rings out around the church like a declaration.
“I run from no one. I will fight again. I will kill Ivar The Destroyer and I will stop this war. On your God and mine I swear it.” Dramatic, but it seems to do the trick. His smile is shark-like as it stretches across his lips.
“You may tell them I shall be there. I make no promises of treaties, but I shall attend the summit after I clean my flock of these pesky traitors.” With that, he whirls and walks back to his altar, clearly dismissing us. Fine by me. I stumble against Maxen and he wraps his arm around my waist. Cal eyes the guards before stopping in front of me.
“Looks like The Champion is back.” He leans in to whisper the next. “Be careful on the road back and I shall see you at the Summit.” Nodding. I turn, and without waiting for the others and using Maxen as a crutch, I walk out of the church.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Bittersweet
We hurry from the settlement, women and men stopping to watch us as we wait impatiently for the bus to move from the gate. Maxen binds my shoulder, staunching the bleeding, but I still feel weak. Even walking to the bikes seems to tire me. I keep pushing myself step after step, only concentrating on the road in front of me.
I can't quite manage to ride so I sit in front of Drax on my bike. He leaves his bike at The Worshippers. I have to fight my eyes closing. I’m that bone tired, my whole body seems to shut down. At least we survived the cult though, even if it wasn't exactly smooth. Now to get back to The Ring and The Summit before Dray goes all medieval and starts burning down The Wastes looking for me.
I need to try and clean my wounds at some point as well, an infection can set in too easy out here and that would mean my death. I don’t bother telling the guys that my bod
y is burning up and that I can already feel an infection setting in from my wounds yesterday. I just pray we get back to The Ring in time to get it under control. All I can seem to care about at the moment though is Drax’s arms holding me to him. Offering me his strength.
“Just hold on babe, only two days ride if we don’t stop.”
I nod and lean my weight back against him. I must doze off because the next thing I know, Drax is crying out behind me as the bike swerves and flips.
I fly from it, the sound of metal grinding on the concrete as the road rushes up towards me. I land with a sickening crunch. My body is numb and I can’t seem to kick my brain into action, instead, darkness is closing in and my eyes are blurring. I fight it with everything in me but I am dragged into unconsciousness, kicking and screaming.