The Summit

by K. A Knight

  “No,” I say loudly and he arches his eyebrow at me. His face is already bruising, which makes me wince.

  “Take her,” he orders, and I scream, raising the sword as I rush towards him, ignoring Vasilisy’s advice to bide my time. If I can reach him, if I can kill him, I can save Vassy.

  I don’t make it two steps before something hits my arm, making it go dead and my fingers automatically drop the sword. Then bodies are thrown at me, pushing me to the floor as they create a Berserker pile.

  “No!” I kick and thrash, but it is no good.

  “Bring her and the traitor, let’s remind them why I am King,” Ivar’s voice roars, even reaching me under the pile of warriors, and my blood turns cold. Vasilisy…

  We are dragged outside, excited hoots following us as Ivar leads the party. There is only one reason why he is bringing us out here. The thought has me fighting again and it takes three Berserkers to hold me, even though Vasilisy doesn’t fight the two who are leading him to the raised wooden stage in the middle of the castle courtyard.

  I am dragged to the post opposite and tied up as I kick and growl like an animal. I take a chunk out of one the Berserkers and he backhands me before walking away, leaving the two others to it. One leans closer, dangerous on his part really, and I dart forward and bite into his neck. Like a feral, I dig in and hold on tight, cutting through skin, and with the feeling of a balloon bursting, copper fills my mouth. He is punching my stomach and screaming but I hold on, I only let go because I have to swallow or choke. He stumbles back, his face pale as his hands come up and slip in his own blood as he tries to hold his neck where blood is pumping from him. I grin, blood filling my mouth and no doubt coating my teeth and face. He falls to his knees and all the other Berserkers ignore him as he faints then and there, I hope the bastard dies.

  Spitting out the mouthful of blood, I turn to the other Berserker who seems to have forgotten about me and is staring at the man with a strange look on his face, he almost seems...relieved? It makes me falter and before I can bite him as well, he turns back to me and frowns when he sees my reaction. Slowly, as if not to startle me he holds his hands up, not touching me.

  “Calm down, Champion.”

  I stop and stare at him and he blows out a breath when I don’t attack him. Leaning closer, he looks around before messing with the chains and whispering. “Sorry ‘bout this. Gotta make it look good or they will kill me. I am sorry, I wish I could stop this.”

  “Then do it,” I mutter and look around to notice a few other Berserkers looking my way and winking before turning back to the show. What the fuck?

  “I can’t. If I do, it will blow everything we have planned, and it’s so much bigger than one man’s life.”

  I growl again and he glares at me. “Vasilisy is my friend too, Champion. But he knew the cost when he did that stunt earlier. Do not disrespect his choices and bravery now. This is much bigger than you and him.”

  I blink as I stare at him. “You are part of the rebellion?”

  He nods and steps closer, lowering his voice. “There are a lot here who are. They tire of Ivar, but until there is a good option to replace him, they follow out of fear. Vasilisy convinced us it was you. After tonight, I can see where he was coming from.” Ivar’s laugh booms across the clearing and the man closes his eyes painfully. “Don’t look away, to do so would dishonour him.” With that he turns and takes up guard next to me, ignoring me completely.

  Looking ahead, I see Vasilisy with his hands now bound in front of him and a noose around his neck. It’s one of Ivar’s favourite ways to kill people, something about if their neck doesn’t break. All I know is, the only time I saw it happen haunted me, and this will be so much worse, but the guard is right. To look away would dishonour him, he made his sacrifice for me. I must accept that, even if my heart screams for the man I was coming to care for like family.

  He meets my eyes as the Berserkers leave the platform and he smiles softly. I can’t return it, that would mean I would have to move my mouth and if I do, I might scream and never stop. There has been so much death; I have lost more people I care about recently than most do in a lifetime. Pain has been my constant friend since Ivar stole me, but this is a different kind and I can already feel it consuming me, the darkness fighting in me, trying to get free, and I might just let it. It has to be better than feeling...this…

  Vasilisy holds my gaze as Ivar starts to talk and I don’t even allow myself to blink, even when my eyes burn and start to water.

  “Traitor!” someone screams, and I tune them out. I can see Ivar talking out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t want to hear it. He steps towards Vasilisy, a knife flashing in the light. I swallow deep and harden my eyes, warning Vasilisy as much as I can. I see him ready himself and the knife descends on his Berserker branding on his chest. It’s where everyone who is voluntarily a Berserker gets them, I am the only person to have it on my shoulder and it was done as a slur to me being a slave.

  Most men scream, most men pass out or beg, but Vasilisy just takes it as the tattoo is hacked away, taking half of the left side of his pec with it until you can see muscle. Blood gushes down his chest, colouring his stomach, and into his trousers.

  Ivar steps away and holds up the flap of skin, some of the crowd cheers and Ivar frowns. I make sure to take a quick look at the crowd to see who didn’t join in––they can live.

  I look back when I hear Ivar moving on the wooden boards again, he walks to the lever and stares at me. I avert my eyes, staring at Vasilisy as he mouths at me, ‘Goodbye, little queen.’ I hold in my cry as I hear the leaver fall and the board under his feet drops out.

  I let out a short sharp gasp as he drops through. His neck doesn’t break and Ivar cheers again. I have to watch as he chokes to death, his feet and arms twitching as his face turns purple and he gasps out, trying to breathe. Those three minutes are the longest of my life, I still don’t look away until he stops moving, his body swaying in the breeze. He’s dead. They killed him.

  I look to Ivar, he grins at me and I let go, I lose all humanity. I embrace the darkness, I welcome it like an old friend and hide in it so I don’t have to feel. I am a true Berserker and they will feel my wrath before the night is through.

  You Can’t Keep a Champion Down

  I don’t remember much after that, apart from when I find myself facing my cell, I am covered in blood and the side of my face feels funny. Blinking, I am shoved into the cell and I spin instantly to see the two hesitant Berserkers there. They quickly smash the door shut and retreat, keeping their eyes on me the whole way.

  Hours pass, and I walk the tight confines of my cell. Evan tries to talk to me but I ignore him, instead I pace. I hear boots on the stairs and know it is time. Time they pay.

  Nothing but pure instinct and hate fuel me now. I move back into the middle of the cell and wait. When the guard comes to do his check, he squints into the dark, clearly not seeing me. When he steps close to the bars, I spring forward. He doesn’t have a chance to get away, grabbing his neck with one hand, I search him for the keys. When I find them belted to his hip, I snap the cord holding them and, with his face still smashed to the bars, hand them over. He takes them slowly and I grab his sword from his other hip and hold it to his dick. “Open the cell,” I growl. He swallows hard and fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them before he gets it open. As soon as I hear the lock click, I let him go and yank open the door. He stumbles back, wide-eyed as I grin at him. Tossing the sword in my hand to get a feel for the weight I saunter towards him.

  “You should have listened to my warning, I swore I would kill you all,” I say before throwing the sword. It imbeds in his neck, pinning him to the wall behind him. Stepping closer, I pull out the sword and he falls to the stone floor, his hands holding his neck as if he can stop the blood from flowing freely. I hold his eyes as he dies and then I search his body for anything useful.

  Evan’s face is pressed against the cell door and his mouth is movi
ng but I turn and, ignoring him, slowly ascend the steps, listening for any more Berserkers. When I don’t hear anyone, I peek out of the wooden door and check the corridor. I check left and right before stepping out. The bloody sword held in my left hand, I saunter down the corridor, not rushing, not caring if anyone finds me. Let them come at me right now, with how I am feeling, they wouldn’t stand a chance. I walk past a familiar door and hesitate. With an evil smile, I turn back around and face it. Ivar’s little pet torturer’s room, I forgot how close to the dungeon he was. It’s time for some payback.

  I don’t knock and quietly slip inside. The room is dark, but I can hear water running in the attached bathroom. Luckily, I know my way about the room and I tiptoe through silently until I stand at the doorway, watching him. He is lounging back in the tub, the water mucky with blood and dirt, and I grin as I step inside. He put me through hell and back and it seems only right I do the same. I notice his weapons on the side, too far away for him to easily reach. His eyes are closed, and I stop when I tower over the tub. When he still doesn’t notice, I watch him for a moment. He groans and when I see his hand moving on his tiny cock in the water I smirk.

  Bored of waiting, using the tip of the sword I nudge his chin. He jerks upright, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as he faces me. When he gets a good look at me, he pales and I know I must look like a monster.

  His eyes narrow with arrogance. “If you wanted to play, pet, all you had to do was ask.”

  I grin at him, making him falter for a second. “That’s not how it’s going to be, pet.” Then I flip the sword and smash the pommel into his face. He falls back into the water and I grab his hair and force his head under. His hands reach up and grip at me, smacking and fighting as he chokes on his own dirty bath water. I look around the room as he chokes to death, and only when he starts to slow do I bring him back up. He sputters and gasps as water flows from his lips. I allow him a second to breathe before I dunk him back under again. I do it again and again until he is begging, his voice raw and scraped as he pleads with me. I thought it would make me feel good, to get back at the bastard who hurt me so much, but all I feel is empty. I let go and he scrambles from the bath, slipping on the floor in front of it and ending up on his arse.

  “You won’t get to him,” he says from the floor, looking at me, and I know he sees the death in my eyes. His eyes dart to his weapons and I laugh.

  “Yes I will, and then I will kill him and wear his fucking skin as a coat.” Darting forward, I slip Dray’s knife from my boot, grinning at the fact the Berserker who searched me was more bothered about feeling me up than looking for actual weapons, he got the obvious ones but missed this little knife a fact I am grateful for right now. Crouching before him I grin. “This might hurt, pet,” I mock.

  His eyes widen, and he starts screaming as I hack through his flesh, cutting away the Berserker brand, dishonouring him. He passes out halfway through, making it easier. Ripping the skin away, I hold the brand as I hack off his hair and shove them both in my pocket. “You are not a warrior, you are a sick son of bitch.” With that, I grab the decorative pot next to us on the counter and slam it down on his head, again and again until his face is bashed in and he isn’t breathing. Standing, I drop the pot and let it shatter on the floor. I leave him there, naked and dishonoured for all to see, and go in search of my next target.

  I now have four Berserker brands and braids in my pocket. I made true on my promise to myself to kill the bastards who cheered, sweeping my way through the castle and hunting them down. I crouch next to the open doorway and poke my head around before rushing in. I don’t wait as I leap at a Berserker and cut his throat before spinning and gutting the next. Raising my sword, I go to kill the third before I notice it is the man from before, the one who told me about the rebellion. I drop my sword and turn my back on him, ignoring his questioning look. He doesn’t seem bothered I just slaughtered two of his friends. When I crouch and start to cut off their brands, I hear him gag. Eyeing my handiwork, I smile. I am getting good at this.

  “What are you doing?” he asks and I notice he looks a little pale. I glance back down before moving on to the next and then I stand and face him.

  “You are part of the rebellion, correct?” When he nods I carry on. “Good, gather the others. Either you help or you get the fuck out of my way. Tonight is the night that Ivar dies.” With that, I walk away and I hear him scramble to keep up.

  “Shit, okay.” I hear him pant and I speed up. “He’s in the throne room, so are some guards.” I nod my understanding and I hear him stop. “I will get the others and meet you there.” I wave my hand and his footsteps sound, going the other way. That’s fine, he can get the others, but I am not waiting.

  I make my way to the throne room, only running into three patrols who now all decorate the hallways of the castle. I know I have been hurt, but I can’t feel it at the moment and I just can’t seem to care.

  When I reach the double doors of the throne room, I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. Ready, I kick open the door and stride down the middle of the room. Ivar squints from where he sits on the throne with a woman’s head bobbing up and down on his cock as he holds her there.

  When he spots me, he grins and purposely starts moaning loudly. The guards in the room step forward but hesitate when Ivar doesn’t panic. He will regret that. When I stop before him, he moans long and loud before pushing the woman away. She scrambles to her feet, panting and wiping her mouth before covering her chest. She eyes me, and her eyes light up with knowing. She nods before stepping away, and marching back down the room, leaving me with Ivar and his men.

  Grinning, I grab my stash and throw all the bits of skin and hair at him. He catches them automatically, and when he notices what they are, he pales and jumps to his feet. His face turns beet red and he thunders towards me. When he gets close, he raises his fist, but I dodge the punch and sweep my leg out, then kick back so he falls back down on his throne. He eyes me slowly before climbing to his feet, more cautious this time. It will be his weakness, he doesn’t want to die. I don’t care, not in the darkness like I am.

  “What do you think will happen here, pet?” He starts to circle me and I keep him in my eyesight. “That you will march in here and kill me?”

  I shrug. “Pretty much.”

  He throws back his head and laughs before stopping in front of me. “You forget one thing, pet.”

  I tilt my head and eye him. “What’s that?”

  He grins evilly. “I am King.” He snaps his fingers at his guards. “Take her weapon and bring her to my room.” He carries on grinning, but when no one moves, it’s my turn to smile. I eye the guards to watch as they nod at me and step back so their backs are to the wall.

  He growls and turns on them. “Did you hear me? I said get her!” When no one moves he screams, throwing a tantrum. “You fucking traitors, I will kill you all…” he carries on, his back to me, and I use the opening.

  Slipping behind him, I drop down and cut the backs of his knees. He lets out a pained yell, choking off his rant mid-word, and falls forward. I stand slowly and walk around him until I am positioned at his front. He looks up at me, his face murderous.

  “You are nothing. You are a fucking slave. A fucking toy, you won’t kill me!” he screams as blood starts to puddle beneath him. I hear the throne room doors open and spare it a short look to see the rest of the clan making their way in. I see some familiar eyes, but I don’t know everyone so I need to do this fast. He turns and screams at them to stop me, but not one person steps forward. Some are probably wondering what I will do, some don’t care, and the others want his death. I can see it in their eyes.

  Turning back to Ivar, I see the moment he realises the truth. “They don’t care. You lost their respect, you lost your right as King, and I am going to make you pay for everything you did.”

  He turns back to me, his face turning purple in his anger. “Even if you kill me, you will still be a broken slave girl,”
he spits, and I grin again.

  “That’s where you are wrong. I was never broken, but you are.” With that, I get bored of talking and I grip my sword tighter. He starts to rant, insult after insult pouring out of his mouth as I bring my sword up.

  “Ivar The Destroyer, traitor to the Berserker clan, I sentence you to death,” I say casually, and I drop the sword, aiming for his neck. I hack and yell, letting everything out. All the years of pain and suffering, all the heartache and loss, I let it guide my blade as I chop through his neck. Like this, I can see how weak he is, relying on other’s strengths to protect him, but when it came down to it…he was nothing more than a man. Blood splatters, and still I keep going until his head rolls away from his body. His eyes staring at me, still filled with dimming anger and his mouth formed in a silent yell, it still isn’t enough. He deserved so much more. Reaching down I grab his head and turn to face the silent crowd. They are all waiting to see what I will do now.

  Severed head and crown in one hand, bloody sword in the other, I stand on the raised platform with my chest heaving and blood dripping from my many wounds. I let out a wordless triumphant shout as I raise the head of their leader. I watch as they drop their weapons, confusion on their faces as they try to decide what to do now. They look to each other, and the brands and braids littering the steps to the throne, testaments to my kills. I wait for them to come, ready to take them all on, when the door bursts open and Dray storms in with an army of Seekers and scavs behind him.

  He looks like the devil incarnate, a snarl twisting his lips, madness shining in his eyes, an axe in one hand and a sword in the other. He stops at the door, scanning the room until his gaze lands on me. He lets out a crazed laugh and saunters to me, even as I see the relief bloom in his cold eyes.

  I look behind him, glad to see him but confused, he stops close to me, eyeing me like a cornered animal.