Stormfyre Chapter Twenty

            Drawn Faleem commanded his men to charge. Gregor Thundar led the attack, crossing blades with the children's defender, knocking him back to get at the girl behind him. Kirstin wrenched her sword free of her scabbard and slashed at him with a timed blow. Their blades connected in a spray of sparks as hers slid off his and went low while Gregor's went high, aiming for her head. Kirstin brought the sword up fast and connected against his assault a second and a third time. Gregor shouldered her back, pushing her into the shutters that kept the breeze from blowing in from the window. She almost lost her balance, knocking over a stand that had a porcelain vase on it.

The vase shattered along the floor, spraying broken shards all over. Gregor pressed his attack, stabbing forward for Kirstin's heart. She deflected the blade, making it stray into the stone wall where it broke almost in half from the force of the thrust. Gregor pulled back in surprise and Kirstin took the initiative, sliding her sword along Gregor's stomach where the chain mail failed to provide protection. Blood spilled over Gregor's boots as he stumbled back, holding a hand over the wound to stem bleeding. Kirstin pressed in, stabbing at him, meaning to end the battle. Gregor slapped the killing blow aside with a gauntleted hand and strode in with a closed fist, punching her across the face. Kirstin cried out, holding tight to the handle of her sword and pitching over. The only thing that kept her from falling was Kamil behind her, prompting her back up. Gregor drew a dagger from behind his back, holding the blade against his forearm, and rushed in for her, a sneer contorting his face. Kirstin dropped low, under the sweep of the dagger and let Kamil parry it on the edge of his sword. Kirstin planted her own sword almost hilt deep in Gregor's chest, pushing him back. The soldier gasped with shock and dropped the dagger, staggering back until he found the wall. He slid down it, groaning with the agony of Kirstin's sword raking the wall and turning in his body. By the time Gregor Thundar stopped his descent to the floor he was dead.

            Trost parried a sword swing even as he ducked past another, bringing his leg up and kicking the soldier in the knee. The man screamed with the shock of pain and crumpled over, nearly falling on his face. Trost crossed blades with the other man another time and then spun low on one knee, under the radius of the soldier's next swipe. He buried his sword into the man's thigh and wrenched out just as quick cutting up with a cross slash that took the soldier's throat out. Gurgling, grasping feebly at his throat, the soldier toppled over.

            "Get out of here! Go back upstairs and lock the door! It will take them time to break it down and follow! Go!" Trost yelled at them, fending off another attack from Drawn's men.

            "We can't leave you here, Trost!" Kirstin yelled back at him, "I won't leave you here!"

            "Father, please! Take them out of here!" Trost shouted to the priest. Kirstin felt Damien seize her, urge her back up the stairs, his eyes wary of the man who stood at the back of the hall. Benmont took hold of Kirstin and urged her back up the narrow stairs while Damien collected Kamil, ushering him along as well.

            "Thank you, my friend!" Damien called to Trost as he made his way out of sight, "May the One God watch over you in all that you do!" Then Trost found himself alone, but that wasn't anything really new to him. He felt a measure of relief knowing that Kirstin was out of harm's way. Hoisting his silver blade up, Trost readied for their next assault.

            The other soldiers fell away, a couple of them nursing wounds. Drawn approached him, blade swaying from side to side like some metallic snake that he held in his hand. Trost greeted him with a lowered sword.

            "Be ready to take that door down," Drawn mouthed back to his men over his shoulder, "This shouldn't take long."

            Trost swung forward and locked swords with Drawn, sliding away and spinning low, trying to take his leg out from under him. Drawn smiled as he kicked Trost's sword arm, sending him sprawling onto his back. He rolled back up and lunged in, swinging diagonally for Drawn's shoulder. The warrior stepped away from the swing, leaning far enough to stay out of the sharp edge, and returned with an attack that caught Trost on the stomach. As soon as Drawn had connected he flipped the blade in the air and caught it in the other hand, bringing up a back hand that laid Trost's chest open. With the turn of his hand he righted the blade and brought it down a third time, the force of the blow on Trost's chest enough to drop him to the floor with a loud thump.

            "Get to the door and find those children! Do it before everyone knows we're here!"

            Damien ran down the hall, his travel coat waving after him like a banner fluttering on the wind. His breath was ragged in his lungs as he slid around a corner and raced to the door at the end of the hall. If he remembered correctly there was a main stair well that ran past the dining hall on the third floor. If they were blessed enough he might be able to sneak them past without the guards finding them. It was then that the door opened wide and guards rushed forth, standing close to either side of the hall, allowing the form of Baron Cromley access to the hall. The baron was wearing a plate armor that was similar to the chain mail that his soldiers wore, with a war hammer on his side, nearly scraping along the floor. He held a shining helmet of gold in his hand. Damien stopped the children, holding his hands outstretched to guard them.

            "So, you figured things out, did you priest?" Cromley asked, his tone cold.

            "I know what you plan, Avernus. And I know that you must have failed if there are soldiers from Dagoth here. It seems the king finds more expediences killing you than granting you what you want. Shame."

            "I know of the men that stole into my tower. They will be dealt with. As will you, as I dealt with Cameron Reol, your guardian."

            "What did you do to Cameron?" Kirstin cried out, her eyes burning with grief and anger.

            "He went to the dungeons, my dear, where I'm sure that Garrodine had an exceptional time torturing him until he died. So sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if it is any conciliation to you, you'll be joining him very soon."

            Avernus donned his helm and the men drew steel, better than two dozen blades in all. Benmont brushed past the father, ready to attack, holding his sword high for them to receive. The Baron gave the order to charge and they came down the hall of the tower, shouting war cries as they raised their swords over their heads.

            "Fall back!" Damien screamed over the din, "Back to the other hallway! We'll go higher if needs be but we die if we stay here!" Benmont took hold of Kirstin and pulled her in front of him as he ran back, looking blindly for a stairwell to escape into. Kamil was last, just after Damien, blade in a tight knuckled hand, his eyes wild as he took in anything that might help him.

            The group passed a door setting in the wall, where two heavy wooden doors were used to separate one part of the hall from the rest of it during special occasions. He shouted at Benmont, screaming for help to close them as he dropped his blade and grabbed a side of the door, pulling on it. He propped a foot against the set of the wall and grunted with the effort, feeling the door swing out and almost take him with it. Benmont was fast at Kamil's side, shutting the other door faster. Together the thick slabs of wood slammed together, a resounding boom echoing down the hall. Kamil found the metal latch that slid across both doors to bar the path and pulled it over until it found home in an iron clasp that held it fast. The doors bulked from the sudden weight of many men against them, the iron lock screaming with the effort to keep them out. Kamil back peddled, almost tripping over his own sword, looking for a way to escape.

            "That was smart thinking, Kamil," Damien commended him, "But I doubt that it will hold them for much longer. Let us be gone from here before there is even more guards to deal with."

            "You won't be getting very far, father," came a voice from the opposite end of the hall, over the noise beyond the doors. The priest's heart sank when he saw him standing in the hall. An Honor Guard, blade red with blood, another one, silver with plumes on it, stood blocking them. Damien closed his eyes when he recognized the sword as Trost's.

            "What did you do with him?" Kirstin demanded softly, her face losing color.

            "What do you think happened to him, dear? He won't be aiding you any longer; that is for sure." Drawn tossed the silver sword at her feet. It clattered there, stopping only inches from the boots she wore. A tear ran unchecked from her eye as she stooped to scoop the sword up, dropping hers in the process. She stared at it, the gleam that it gave off in the lantern light of the hall. Trost had died defending her, just as Huros had done so months ago. What had it brought her? Huros died that night against Dagothian soldiers so she could die here, at the hands of this man? It seemed so wrong to her. Shaking her head, Kirstin took the sword up and held it before her. She prayed a silent prayer to the One, asking of him that she would do Trost and his sword justice.