The Squire

by James Wisher

  “What’s going on?” The princess’s demanding tone drew him back to the moment.

  “We’re under attack. You need to get out of harm’s way.”

  Before she could say anything Sir Geris came running toward them. “Col, Princess Rain, are you two hurt?”

  “We’re fine, sir.”

  “Where are my parents? Where’s Callion?” Rain’s voice rose with each question and she appeared on the verge of losing control.

  Sir Geris grabbed Rain’s shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Your parents are surrounded and cut off from the keep. The other knights are trying to get to them. My priority is getting you inside and out of danger. Now let’s go.”

  Howls echoed over the din of battle. Col looked back in time to see a pair of wolfmen, hatchets in each clawed hand, lips peeled back to reveal dripping fangs, charging toward them. Their luck had just run out. “We’re out of time.”

  Col took Rain’s hand and turned toward the castle, not giving her a chance to object. Sir Geris brought up the rear, keeping between them and the charging wolfmen. Col trusted his mentor to handle a pair of mangy wolfmen and focused on getting to the keep door. They had a clear path; if they hurried they might make it inside before the beastmen penetrated deeper into the grounds.

  “Callion!” Rain pulled away from him and ran to the right.

  Callion cowered behind a line of men-at-arms standing shield to shield against a dozen saberfangs, their curved, razor-sharp eyeteeth gleaming in the sun. At least he was staying out of the real soldiers’ way. Rain raced toward her whimpering champion like he offered some protection. Much as Col wanted to leave them to the fate they deserved he couldn’t.

  “Sir Geris!”

  Col’s mentor finished the second wolfman with a thrust through the chest and turned toward him. Col pointed toward the fleeing princess. Sir Geris ran to him. “Stupid girl. When you get a hold of her don’t let go this time. Come on.”

  They ran toward the shield wall. Col paused long enough to grab a short sword out of the hand of a dead soldier. He tried not to look too close, but he glimpsed the gash in the man’s torso. It didn’t look like he’d suffered long. They ran on, but halfway to the shield wall a massive, seven-foot-tall boarman charged them. Sir Geris spun to face it. Col skidded to a halt and turned to join his mentor.

  Sir Geris shouldered him aside. “Get the princess. I can handle this.”

  Years of training had Col obeying the order before he had time to process it. He’d taken four strides away from Sir Geris before he realized he’d abandoned his mentor to fight a bigger, stronger enemy on his own. Col didn’t look back for fear of seeing Sir Geris in trouble and having to choose between obeying his orders and helping the man he considered his second father.

  Rain reached Callion and wrapped her arms around him. A moment later two soldiers went down under the saberfangs’ scimitars, leaving a gap in the shield wall. A saberfang lunged through before the survivors closed the gap and locked their shields. Callion thrust Rain toward the oncoming monster and ran the opposite way, worthless coward.

  Col leapt at the saberfang. The monster had its attention on Rain, and Col hit it from behind, driving his sword through the base of its skull, killing it instantly. He wrestled it to the side so it wouldn’t collapse on the princess. Rain was staring at Callion’s back as he ran as far and fast as his scrawny legs would carry him away from her. Her legs wobbled, and she fell to her knees. Having your one true love use you as a human shield while he escaped would do that to you.

  Col kept his face impassive as he reached down to the princess. “We need to go.”

  She took his hand, her eyes unfocused, her expression lost. He pulled her to her feet and looked around for a safe place. The soldiers had pushed the saberfangs further away from them. All around the courtyard pockets of men battled ever-increasing numbers of beastmen. More of the vicious brutes poured through the gap every second. Col hadn’t known there were that many beastmen in the world, much less in Corinthia.

  “Col!” The sound of his mentor’s voice calmed his racing heart. He turned to find Sir Geris trotting toward them, his armor sporting a few new dents, but otherwise no worse for the wear. “We need to get her out of here.”

  “Yes, sir, but I fear we’ve lost our window of opportunity.” Col pointed to a mixed group of twenty beastmen between them and the keep. The monsters stood between them and the door, but made no move to attack. It appeared to Col that someone had sent them to keep anyone from escaping. “No way we can break through a group that size.”

  “We need more men.” Sir Geris looked around the courtyard.

  “What about my parents?” Rain’s voice trembled.

  Sir Geris looked down at her and shook his head. “I don’t know. The others are trying to get to them, but the beastmen just keep coming. My concern is your safety.”

  A group of young knights ran toward them. Col tapped his mentor on the shoulder and pointed. A dozen first-year knights stopped a few feet away. A year ago they would have been competing against Col in the tournament. Now they were about to take part in a more serious contest.

  “Sir,” one of the young knights said, “we heard the sounds of battle from our post on the far side of the keep. What should we do?”

  “I need you to help me break through that group of beastmen.” Sir Geris pointed toward the monsters blocking their path. “We need to get the princess inside.”

  The young knights looked at Rain with wide eyes, as though seeing her for the first time. “We’re with you, sir, just say when.”

  Sir Geris nodded and turned back to Col. He took the gold amulet from around his neck and put it over Col’s head. “This may offer you some protection. We’ll form a flying wedge and hit those beastmen. Your job is to protect the princess and get her to safety. Do you understand?”

  Col nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He understood all too well. Sir Geris didn’t expect any of them to survive; nothing else would have gotten him to remove his knight’s amulet.

  “Once you get inside the princess can show you the way to the escape tunnel. Get her to Celestia, that’s the only place she’ll be safe.” Sir Geris clapped him on the shoulder. “You can do it, Col. I know you can.”

  “Yes, sir.” Col got the words out without his voice breaking.

  Sir Geris took his place at the tip of the wedge. Col and Rain stood behind him with knights closing around them. Col held Rain’s cold, trembling hand in his left hand and his sword in his right. Two feet of blood-caked steel seemed woefully inadequate, just like Col himself, for what he needed to do.

  “Charge!”

  At Sir Geris’s command the wedge surged forward. The heavily armored knights hit the massed beastmen like a god’s hammer.

  Through the gaps between the knights Col watched beastmen fall away from their path. The wedge smashed through the first row then struck the second.

  They’d lost enough momentum that the second line held. Shouts and snarls mingled in the air with the copper stench of blood. Swords rose and fell as the knights tried to cut a path to the keep. A young knight on Col’s right went down and a wolfman thrust his muzzle into the wedge. Col stabbed the beast in the eye and it fell back howling.

  Ahead of them Sir Geris pressed to the left and the knight beside him pressed right. A gap opened and Col had a clear path to the door. He needed no orders. He squeezed Rain’s hand and darted out of the wedge’s protection and ran toward the keep. Rain stumbled beside him and he caught her by the waist before she could fall. Col pressed on, fifty feet to go. He kept his arm around the princess to keep her upright. They reached the door and Col paused long enough to kick it open. He pushed the princess inside ahead of him then turned back to see how the knights fared.

  Col’s heart swelled. Impossible as it seemed the knights held the edge. Half their number lay on the ground, but Sir Geris led the rest with a ferocity Col had never seen in his mentor. The elder knight hammered the bea
stmen with his long sword and it seemed with each swing a monster went down. Too many beastmen still stood for the knights to disengage, but it wouldn’t take much more for the brutes to break and run.

  Col’s eyes widened when an apparition out of his worst nightmares rode onto the battlefield. A knight in black gothic armor sat astride a midnight horse with burning, crimson eyes. The knight carried in one hand a wide, serrated blade Col doubted he could have lifted with both hands. The dark figure rode up behind Sir Geris who, focused on a pair of saberfangs, didn’t realize death had appeared behind him

  He tried to shout a warning, but the horror of the black-armored figure stole his voice. He watched in mute terror as the knight ran his blade through Sir Geris’s back, punching though his heavy plate like it amounted to nothing more than the thin silk Rain wore. The heavy blade burst out the front of his mentor’s chest, blood spraying, and Col found his voice. He screamed in inarticulate pain and rage.

  The knight’s great helm turned toward Col and burning, venomous eyes met his. Col knew those eyes would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. The knight lifted his sword with Sir Geris’s body still impaled on it and pointed toward the keep. Col slammed the door and slid the bar in place.

  “Where are the other knights?” Rain asked.

  Col had forgotten all about the princess. He turned toward her, his vision blurred. Col dashed the tears from his eyes. He’d have time to cry later. And after he cried he’d find that black-armored bastard and carve him into bloody chunks. “They’re dead, Princess. We’re on our own now.”

  * * *

  Zarrin watched his army of beastmen pour through the gap he’d blasted in the castle wall. His saberfangs, lithe and strong, with twelve-inch curved fangs matched by the heavy curved swords in their hands, led the way. No human could equal their power and grace. Behind them came the bulk of his army, a mix of wolfmen and boarmen. They’d wash the defenders away in a tide of blood. If the corpse that served as Zarrin’s host had lips he would have smiled.

  When the last of his army had entered the castle grounds Zarrin followed. He’d taken a single step through the gap when a flash of white light forced him to look away. A tingle ran through his undead spirit at the sudden release of Light magic. He traced its source to the largest mass of fighters. The royal family must have made its last stand there.

  He made his way through the fallen bodies of dead and dying beastmen and humans. The aura of pain and death fed the Darkness around him. Zarrin drew the power in. He never felt stronger than in the aftermath of a battle. For all he gloried in that power it still seemed a pale thing compared to the old times, before the Darkness’s binding. Not much longer and all the centuries of work would at last bear fruit.

  Zarrin reached a circle of beastmen standing on rough stone. In the center of the circle, surrounded by scores of bodies, the royal sword thrust straight down into the ground, held in place by the stone. The dead king’s hand still wrapped around the hilt, his final act thrusting the sword deep into the earth where its magic transformed the ground to stone.

  Beastmen cringed away when Zarrin stepped between them onto the stone. The undead darkcaster tasted the lingering magic swirling in the air. Something had gone wrong. The power tasted too strong, too active. The royal family’s death should have caused the blade’s power to go dormant.

  “Is it time to break the blade?”

  Zarrin turned to find the Black Prince dismounting from his nightstallion. The demon-bound knight sounded eager as ever to shatter one of the holy swords. “Something seems different about this one.”

  The Black Prince brushed past Zarrin and strode toward the shining blade. “You worry too much, caster.”

  The black knight grabbed the hilt of the sword and bore down on it with all his considerable might. The sword flexed perhaps a quarter inch. Despite his grunting and straining he couldn’t budge the blade even a fraction more. When his strength finally gave out the Black Prince released the hilt. It snapped back straight, power crackled, and the prince went flying into a pair of wolfmen sending all three sprawling to the ground.

  Zarrin looked down at his servant. “And you, I think, worry too little.”

  The Black Prince clambered to his feet, the heat of his anger forcing the beastmen nearest him to flinch away. “I will not be made sport of, even by you.”

  Zarrin’s dead black gaze locked with the knight’s acid yellow eyes. He couldn’t allow anyone to question his power or threaten him, no matter how valuable a servant. Even a moment of weakness could cost him everything. The Dark didn’t answer to weaklings. Zarrin gestured and called to the Dark. The binding that lashed the demon spirit to the prince’s soul loosened. The Black Prince fell to the ground screaming as the demon tore at his soul in an attempt to get free.

  Zarrin stood over his knight. “Who is your master?”

  The prince screamed again and again.

  “Who?”

  “You are.” The prince gasped the words out between screams. “Please master, the pain.”

  “Never forget.” Zarrin gestured again, restoring the binding.

  The Black Prince rolled onto his back, gasping. Zarrin left the broken figure and walked over to the bodies of the royal family. The king and queen both bore horrific wounds. He poked aside several bodies nearby. The princess’s body was missing.

  Zarrin rounded on the Black Prince who had regained his feet. “Where is the girl?”

  “I don’t know, master.” He cocked his helmed head. “Two young people made it into the keep, a boy and girl. I believe the boy’s a squire judging by his clothes. I didn’t get a good look at the girl.”

  Zarrin seethed. Somehow the princess had eluded him. The sword wouldn’t break until they’d killed the entire royal family. He got himself under control. She had escaped for the moment, but had nowhere to run. His army had the keep surrounded.

  “Break down the door and find the girl. We can accomplish nothing more here while she lives.”

  “An extended search will put the beastmen on edge,” the prince said.

  “Set guards all around the keep then send the bulk of the army against the city. I don’t care what it takes, find the girl and kill her.”

  “I’ll see to it myself, master.”

  Chapter Seven

  Col turned away from the barricaded door. It wouldn’t take the beastmen long to break through once they made up their minds to. “Where’s the secret exit?”

  Rain sat on the cold stone floor, her legs tucked up under her, tears streaming down her face. “They’re all dead, aren’t they? Mother, Father, Callion, the knights, everyone. Those monsters killed them all.”

  Col clenched his teeth. By the Light they didn’t have time for this. If he’d thought a slap would shake her out of it he would have been happy to try, but Col suspected a gentler approach might work better. He needed to baby her along until she got over the shock.

  He crouched down beside her. “I’m afraid so. We’re all that’s left and if we want to survive I need your help. I don’t know where the secret exit is.”

  Rain sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her fancy dress. She didn’t even appear aware she’d done it. “What does it matter? If we run they’ll just kill us somewhere else.”

  Col clenched his fist and took a deep breath. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but I intend to survive long enough to see that black-armored bastard bleeding at my feet. Don’t you want to make them pay for what they’ve done?”

  She looked into his eyes and he saw only pain and fear. No anger, no fire, nothing that would see her through whatever they had to face to get out of here. He’d be better off without her, no doubt about that, but he wouldn’t dishonor his mentor’s final order by abandoning his charge. Besides, he’d never escape the keep without her. He’d have to find the strength for both of them. The Light knew he had anger enough to go around.

  “I… I don’t think I can do this.”

  An ax str
uck the door before Col could speak again. They didn’t have long now. He had to get her moving. “Listen to me. You’re the last of your line. You need to survive to give your people hope. It’s your duty. I’m sure you don’t know much about duty, but surely your father told you what being a ruler meant. If you die here all those men, your father included, died for nothing and I’ll be damned if I let Sir Geris’s death be for nothing.”

  Rain’s back stiffened. Col didn’t know what he said that worked, and he didn’t care. “We need to get to the basement.”

  He held out his hand and to his surprise she let him help her up. The nearest access to the basement was in the kitchen so he headed left toward the servants’ wing. The clash of axes got quieter the further they went, but the beastmen’s ferocity wouldn’t abate until the two of them were dead.

  Col led the way through the servant’s quarters, past laundry rooms, storage rooms, and the tiny, one room cells that passed for living quarters. The only sound he heard was their feet on the stone floor. He shook his head. It seemed wrong for the keep to be so quiet. He spent a lot of time with the servants and he’d never seen this part of the castle so empty. “I’d have thought some of the servants would have stayed in to work.”

  “Father gave everyone leave to attend the tournament.” She sniffed again. “He meant it as a reward for their hard work.”

  Some reward. Out loud he said, “That was generous of him.”

  They reached the kitchen. The heat from the banked ovens made the room stifling. Knives and other utensils covered spotless workstations. At the rear of the kitchen a narrow set of stairs led down to cold storage. Beside the stairs on a small table sat an oil lantern and flint and steel. A few clicks later, Col had the lantern lit. He pocketed the fire starter and led the way down the stairs, Rain close behind.