FIC - First Knight (6/?)
Title: First Knight (6/?)
Author:wheelie47
Rating: NC17 (not for every chapter)
Pairing: Luke and Noah.
Word count: 2,853
Warnings: Violence and character death.
Disclaimer: Don’t own characters, am not associated in any way with ATWT, Van and Jake. No offence intended.
Summary: Set in the fictional land of feudal Western Atlantia, King Damian has been overthrown and has fled the Kingdom of Oakdale. But his evil influence has spread across all eight Kingdoms. Lord Luke Snyder leads his army in an effort to bring peace and justice to a troubled time, aided in his quest by a certain dark-haired young Knight…
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
“This is hopeless!” Noah yelled over the battle’s noise. He, and some of the men around him, had managed to find cover in the sparse spattering of rocky outcrops that edged the valley floor.
He dismounted and flung his reins to the nearest man before creeping forward to the edge of the rocks. His heart fell at the scene before him. Men and horses that could find no cover were being struck down where they stood and those that made it out of range of the bowmen were being picked off by the enemy soldiers and horsemen waiting on the flanks.
Their own archers had valiantly tried to respond with returning volleys but they were vastly outnumbered and in an indefensible position.
Noah had rallied the men and Knights around him and had made repeated charges in attempt to break through. But they had been repelled at every turn and were rapidly losing numbers. If only he could lead a retreat back to the village to where there would be more cover. But he blanched at the thought of involving those maltreated innocents in this bloodshed.
He spotted the staggering and bloodied figure of Sir Donovan emerging out of the confusion.
Ignoring the whistle and thud of arrows falling around him and hitting his shield, Noah dove from cover to reach the stricken man, pulling him to the relative safety of the rocks.
“Rest easy,” he murmured as he eased the Knight down to sit with his back to the hard rock.
Donovan’s breath came in panting gasps and he batted Noah’s hand away when he tried to check the extent of his injuries. “The scouts… how could they have been wrong? The… the main body of Aiden’s army is here. But they do nothing, only sit in reserve and pick us of like flies; one by one.”
Noah stiffened. Every muscle, every fiber of his being, screamed at him as the realization hit him like a physical blow. All this death and destruction was just a diversion; a means of holding the majority of their army here while the main target was back at the encampment.
LUKE! Luke was in danger!
The shocked widening of Donovan’s eyes told Noah that the older Knight had just reached the same conclusion as he.
“Mayer, fall back!” Donovan hissed as he grasped the front of Noah’s surcoat and pulled the man toward him. “Davies is in command of the rear guard. Take Addington and get to the rear. Take the guard and fight your way through! You have to get to Lord Snyder. Warn him! Keep him safe!”
He pushed Noah away and struggled to his feet, desperately hoping it was not too late. “I’ll mount a diversionary attack. Go! GO NOW!”
Noah stood motionless for a moment as he looked into the determined face. A face he did not know if he would ever see again. He regretted that he had not spent more time getting to know the older Knight, a man he respected immensely. But there was no time for sentimentality now.
He pulled himself to his full height and nodded briefly at the other man, a look that spoke of mutual respect and of wishes for good fortune in the fight ahead passed between them, before grabbing his reins and launching himself up into the saddle.
The brunette spun his horse around, and without another look back, he broke cover…
…
Davies turned his charger to look at the two men, the shock and confusion evident on his face, as Mayer and Addington urged their horses through the chaos of the melee toward him.
“What are you doing?” These men should not be here; they should be on the valley floor, in the midst of the fight.
Noah barely slowed his steed. “The encampment is under attack! We have to get to Lord Snyder,” he explained in a rush before directing his words to the men surrounding Davies leaving the other man little choice but to follow. “Guards, to me!”
Sir Mayer gripped his reins with steely determination with one hand as the other white-knuckled the hilt of his sword before leading a charge to break through the enemy soldiery lined up against the rear of the column.
The fighting was intense and vicious, and they lost several men and horses to the enemy blade. But, under cover of their archers’ volley and the confusion created by Donovan’s diversionary counter-charge, the tide was slowly beginning to turn and Noah could see a weak spot developing in the opposing line.
Heartened, he urged them on, again and again, using his sword and the bulk of the horse to breach the wall.
And then, suddenly, the small group had broken through and found themselves in the clear open space on the other side of the enemy lines.
“Onward!” he bellowed as he sheathed his sword and spurred his bay on, swiping absentmindedly at a trickle of blood that oozed from a wound on his cheek.
Soon all Sir Mayer could hear was his heart pounding in his chest and the labored snorting from his charger as the animal struggled to keep up with the punishing pace, matched only by the echoing sounds of the horses around him. He had never ridden his steed so hard before. But he had no choice; he had to get to Luke.
Questions ran through his mind as they sped on through the terrain. How had the scouts been so mistaken? How had Aiden’s men known that Luke was injured and still at the camp and how had they known to besiege the army in the valley? To Noah it meant only one thing; he was the only person Luke could trust until they established the identity of the informer.
“Faster, Dax! Faster!” Noah urged his mount on. He knew the bay was nearing exhaustion but images of Luke’s bloodied and lifeless body kept him focused and determined.
The Knights heard the commotion and smelt the acrid smoke before they even reached the outskirts of the encampment.
The scene that greeted them when the camp finally came into view was of carnage and devastation. Braziers had been lit and overturned, igniting tents that were now blazing out of control. Bodies of the troop detachment and the camp’s men littered the ground.
Noah recognized some of the faces of the men and had to choke back a cry when he saw the deathly face of one of Sir Donovan’s servants and he sent up a silent prayer that he would find his own servant, Reuben, had escaped such a fate. He wished he could turn aside and seek him out but he knew he could not; there was no time.
With heavy and fearful hearts, and knowing that these people were beyond help, they galloped on through the encampment toward where the ring of metal on metal could still be heard.
The horsemen encountered pockets of sporadic fighting and used their swords to cut a path toward Lord Snyder's tent.
Noah was distracted by the sound of commotion off to his right. Turning his head he saw, with a mixture of relief and horror, that Luke stood in the midst of an intense melee surrounded by the remnants of his bodyguard and enemy soldiers. The blonde could barely stand, let alone hold his sword aloft. But there he was, all the same, trying to protect the injured that lay inside the canvas walls of the hospital.
“There!” Sir Mayer cried, pointing with his sword as he turned Dax in Lord Snyder's direction.
Before he was even aware of it, Noah had alighted from his saddle before the horse had even halted and he was swinging his sword in wide precise arcs, cutting down the enemy to reach Luke.
Noah grasped the blonde Lord by his shoulder, in part to support him upright and in part to turn the man toward him.
Luke gasped, his face flooded with relief at seeing Noah and the others again. But before the blonde could utter a word, Noah roughly pulled him aside as he parried a blow that was aimed at Luke's torso.
Gripping his sword hilt with both hands he pushed against the enemy’s chest, making him stumble backward before finishing him off with a well-aimed strike.
“We have to get you to safety,” Noah panted from the exertion of fighting.
Luke set his features in grim determination and opened his mouth to respond but Noah would countenance no argument. He tried to pull the blonde Lord toward the tent flap in order to use the hospital tent as cover so they could escape to the rear while Snyder's bodyguard and the others covered their retreat.
But Luke remained where he stood, struggling against Noah’s hold.
At a strangled cry from their left, both men turned to see Captain Malek felled by a fatal blow. Luke's face crumpled and he staggered as if the blade had struck his own body. The death of such a loyal and trusted man hit him hard. He suddenly felt like there was so much blood on his hands. Maybe Oliver had been right. Perhaps they should have been satisfied with banishing Grimaldi from Oakdale.
Sir Mayer took the opportunity to grab Luke and push him through the opening as the others closed ranks behind them to cover their escape…
…
Inside the tent was a scene of utter confusion with Oliver barking orders to his subordinates in an effort to move and protect the injured.
Lord Snyder paused and looked at Reid. But the physician barely acknowledged the other man. He could not help them now nor could Noah and Luke help with the injured; getting Luke to safety was paramount.
“Come!” Noah muttered urgently as he pulled Luke to the rear of the tent.
Lifting the flap, he pushed the blonde through the gap and followed him out.
Draping Luke's arm around his shoulder, he supported the shorter man as they worked their way toward the stable tent. The two of them used the other tents as cover with Sir Mayer either guiding them stealthily past any enemy soldiers they encountered or silently picking them off one by one.
Finally, and much to their relief, they reached the stables only to discover that it was guarded by two of the enemy soldiery. The men looked bored; they obviously did not expect anyone to escape the others and reach as far as the stable tent.
“Stay here,” Noah whispered in hushed tones as he unwound Luke’s arm from behind his neck and settled the other man against the canvas wall of the tent they were using as cover.
Luke struggled as if to move to follow Noah but the Knight placed a hand firmly to his chest. “Stay!” he ordered before pressing a chaste kiss to the blonde's lips.
Before Luke could respond the other man was on his feet and moving stealthily toward the stables.
Knowing time was of the essence; the others could only hold the enemy back for so long, Noah worked his way to the rear of the tent. He paused, with his ear pressed to the canvas, listening for sounds of voices inside before using his sword to cut an opening into the canvas. Thankfully, once inside, he realized that the stables held only the few remaining horses and no further guards.
He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw that Luke's horse, Stepper, was still tethered in his stall. Fortune may indeed be looking down on them but he knew it would not last.
“Steady boy,” he soothed, hoping the animal would stay quiet, as he quickly saddled the steed before untying him and leading him quietly out of the opening he had cut in the canvas.
Once outside, Noah beckoned to Luke and watched as the man struggled to his feet and made his way over to them, his eyes darting this way and that to make sure he was unseen.
Before Noah could help the other man up into the saddle, they were disturbed by the sudden sound of shouts in the distance that were growing alarmingly in volume.
“Quickly. They have broken through!” Noah hissed as he almost bodily lifted the shorter man and hoisted him into the saddle.
Luke extended his hand toward the brunette to help him up into the saddle to sit behind him.
With a heart that felt like it was breaking in two, Noah shook his head slowly. He had intended to take flight with Luke, to protect him and ensure he made it to safety.
With the enemy closing in, Noah bleakly realized he had no choice but to stand and fight whilst covering Luke’s escape.
The look on the other man’s face told him that Luke realized that too. The blonde began to slide down off the saddle. “I must stay. I cannot leave the men to their fate like this… I cannot leave you,” his voice broke at the last word.
Noah’s large hand gripped Luke’s thigh and kept him from climbing down off Stepper’s back.
He was torn between wanting to pull the man down from his horse, hold him close and kiss him senseless for his devotion to the men… to him… or shaking some sense into him for being so stubbornly obstinate.
“No! You must survive, Luke. If you do not then all of this sacrifice… this death… will be for naught and they would have won. This day is lost here. But you must get to safety and regroup the survivors. You can inspire the troops like no other. You have to live, Luke.” Noah’s voice was breaking at the end but a grim determination settled on his features.
Luke’s eyes shone with the wetness of building tears and he opened his mouth to reply. “Noah…” But here, at the last, there was no time for more words and he could only grasp Noah’s hand where it rested still on his thigh. His arms ached and his lips tingled with the desire to hold Noah close and kiss him once again.
Warm hazel met intense blue and a shared look passed between them that spoke of many things; longing, want, need, tenderness, desperation, regret and utter hopelessness tinged with a flickering ember of a belief that they might yet meet again.
“Here!” A voice cried out and distracted the two men, both of them turning simultaneously to see that one of the guards had been alerted by the approaching soldiers and had discovered their position.
“Over here!” The man's shout was echoed by his fellow guard to attract the attention of the others.
Noah turned back to face Luke. “Go!” he pleaded.
Seeing the blonde's hesitation he added, “I will find you! I swear, I will find you.”
He pulled his hand free and raised it to hit Stepper’s hindquarters. “Go!”
After staring at the departing form of horse and rider for a long moment, Noah spun on his heels and gripped his sword, raising it high. “I will find you!” he repeated to himself like a rallying cry as he prepared to defend Luke’s retreat to the very last breath in his body…
…
“Escaped?!” Damian Grimaldi's voice bellowed in rage.
The kneeling man did not need to raise his head to know that his master's face was twisted in anger.
“You fool! How could you let him escape?”
The man bowed his head even further as if being more subservient would temper Grimaldi's wrath. “He was aided by Mayer. I could not intervene without revealing my identity.”
“Mayer! Curse his interference. He was supposed to be held at bay with the rest of the column in the valley. Why was this not so?”
“He broke free with the rearguard, my Liege.”
Grimaldi paused as he processed the information. “Did he escape with Snyder?” He spat the blonde’s name out as if the mere sound of it on his lips was abhorrent. Maybe all was not lost if they had, at least, captured Mayer.
“No, my Liege. I saw Mayer after Snyder had escaped but then lost sight of him in the fighting that followed. We are searching the encampment now to account for the missing amongst the bodies,” the bowed man explained, his voice trembling in fear of his master’s fury.
“Look. At. Me,” Grimaldi punctuated his words with hate.
Not daring to disobey but fearful to look on his master’s countenance in such a rage, the man slowly lifted his head, his heart pounding in his chest.
“You will find Snyder and you will bring him to me. Then, you will receive suitable punishment for your failure today,” Grimaldi breathed out in measured tones which terrified the kneeling man even more than if his master had screamed the commands at him.
Without further utterances, Grimaldi’s face swirled out of focus to be replaced by the smooth black finish of the mirror’s surface and the man let out a shaky breath, unable to command his legs to move just yet…
Chapter 7
Back to master fic post
Author:wheelie47
Rating: NC17 (not for every chapter)
Pairing: Luke and Noah.
Word count: 2,853
Warnings: Violence and character death.
Disclaimer: Don’t own characters, am not associated in any way with ATWT, Van and Jake. No offence intended.
Summary: Set in the fictional land of feudal Western Atlantia, King Damian has been overthrown and has fled the Kingdom of Oakdale. But his evil influence has spread across all eight Kingdoms. Lord Luke Snyder leads his army in an effort to bring peace and justice to a troubled time, aided in his quest by a certain dark-haired young Knight…
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
“This is hopeless!” Noah yelled over the battle’s noise. He, and some of the men around him, had managed to find cover in the sparse spattering of rocky outcrops that edged the valley floor.
He dismounted and flung his reins to the nearest man before creeping forward to the edge of the rocks. His heart fell at the scene before him. Men and horses that could find no cover were being struck down where they stood and those that made it out of range of the bowmen were being picked off by the enemy soldiers and horsemen waiting on the flanks.
Their own archers had valiantly tried to respond with returning volleys but they were vastly outnumbered and in an indefensible position.
Noah had rallied the men and Knights around him and had made repeated charges in attempt to break through. But they had been repelled at every turn and were rapidly losing numbers. If only he could lead a retreat back to the village to where there would be more cover. But he blanched at the thought of involving those maltreated innocents in this bloodshed.
He spotted the staggering and bloodied figure of Sir Donovan emerging out of the confusion.
Ignoring the whistle and thud of arrows falling around him and hitting his shield, Noah dove from cover to reach the stricken man, pulling him to the relative safety of the rocks.
“Rest easy,” he murmured as he eased the Knight down to sit with his back to the hard rock.
Donovan’s breath came in panting gasps and he batted Noah’s hand away when he tried to check the extent of his injuries. “The scouts… how could they have been wrong? The… the main body of Aiden’s army is here. But they do nothing, only sit in reserve and pick us of like flies; one by one.”
Noah stiffened. Every muscle, every fiber of his being, screamed at him as the realization hit him like a physical blow. All this death and destruction was just a diversion; a means of holding the majority of their army here while the main target was back at the encampment.
LUKE! Luke was in danger!
The shocked widening of Donovan’s eyes told Noah that the older Knight had just reached the same conclusion as he.
“Mayer, fall back!” Donovan hissed as he grasped the front of Noah’s surcoat and pulled the man toward him. “Davies is in command of the rear guard. Take Addington and get to the rear. Take the guard and fight your way through! You have to get to Lord Snyder. Warn him! Keep him safe!”
He pushed Noah away and struggled to his feet, desperately hoping it was not too late. “I’ll mount a diversionary attack. Go! GO NOW!”
Noah stood motionless for a moment as he looked into the determined face. A face he did not know if he would ever see again. He regretted that he had not spent more time getting to know the older Knight, a man he respected immensely. But there was no time for sentimentality now.
He pulled himself to his full height and nodded briefly at the other man, a look that spoke of mutual respect and of wishes for good fortune in the fight ahead passed between them, before grabbing his reins and launching himself up into the saddle.
The brunette spun his horse around, and without another look back, he broke cover…
…
Davies turned his charger to look at the two men, the shock and confusion evident on his face, as Mayer and Addington urged their horses through the chaos of the melee toward him.
“What are you doing?” These men should not be here; they should be on the valley floor, in the midst of the fight.
Noah barely slowed his steed. “The encampment is under attack! We have to get to Lord Snyder,” he explained in a rush before directing his words to the men surrounding Davies leaving the other man little choice but to follow. “Guards, to me!”
Sir Mayer gripped his reins with steely determination with one hand as the other white-knuckled the hilt of his sword before leading a charge to break through the enemy soldiery lined up against the rear of the column.
The fighting was intense and vicious, and they lost several men and horses to the enemy blade. But, under cover of their archers’ volley and the confusion created by Donovan’s diversionary counter-charge, the tide was slowly beginning to turn and Noah could see a weak spot developing in the opposing line.
Heartened, he urged them on, again and again, using his sword and the bulk of the horse to breach the wall.
And then, suddenly, the small group had broken through and found themselves in the clear open space on the other side of the enemy lines.
“Onward!” he bellowed as he sheathed his sword and spurred his bay on, swiping absentmindedly at a trickle of blood that oozed from a wound on his cheek.
Soon all Sir Mayer could hear was his heart pounding in his chest and the labored snorting from his charger as the animal struggled to keep up with the punishing pace, matched only by the echoing sounds of the horses around him. He had never ridden his steed so hard before. But he had no choice; he had to get to Luke.
Questions ran through his mind as they sped on through the terrain. How had the scouts been so mistaken? How had Aiden’s men known that Luke was injured and still at the camp and how had they known to besiege the army in the valley? To Noah it meant only one thing; he was the only person Luke could trust until they established the identity of the informer.
“Faster, Dax! Faster!” Noah urged his mount on. He knew the bay was nearing exhaustion but images of Luke’s bloodied and lifeless body kept him focused and determined.
The Knights heard the commotion and smelt the acrid smoke before they even reached the outskirts of the encampment.
The scene that greeted them when the camp finally came into view was of carnage and devastation. Braziers had been lit and overturned, igniting tents that were now blazing out of control. Bodies of the troop detachment and the camp’s men littered the ground.
Noah recognized some of the faces of the men and had to choke back a cry when he saw the deathly face of one of Sir Donovan’s servants and he sent up a silent prayer that he would find his own servant, Reuben, had escaped such a fate. He wished he could turn aside and seek him out but he knew he could not; there was no time.
With heavy and fearful hearts, and knowing that these people were beyond help, they galloped on through the encampment toward where the ring of metal on metal could still be heard.
The horsemen encountered pockets of sporadic fighting and used their swords to cut a path toward Lord Snyder's tent.
Noah was distracted by the sound of commotion off to his right. Turning his head he saw, with a mixture of relief and horror, that Luke stood in the midst of an intense melee surrounded by the remnants of his bodyguard and enemy soldiers. The blonde could barely stand, let alone hold his sword aloft. But there he was, all the same, trying to protect the injured that lay inside the canvas walls of the hospital.
“There!” Sir Mayer cried, pointing with his sword as he turned Dax in Lord Snyder's direction.
Before he was even aware of it, Noah had alighted from his saddle before the horse had even halted and he was swinging his sword in wide precise arcs, cutting down the enemy to reach Luke.
Noah grasped the blonde Lord by his shoulder, in part to support him upright and in part to turn the man toward him.
Luke gasped, his face flooded with relief at seeing Noah and the others again. But before the blonde could utter a word, Noah roughly pulled him aside as he parried a blow that was aimed at Luke's torso.
Gripping his sword hilt with both hands he pushed against the enemy’s chest, making him stumble backward before finishing him off with a well-aimed strike.
“We have to get you to safety,” Noah panted from the exertion of fighting.
Luke set his features in grim determination and opened his mouth to respond but Noah would countenance no argument. He tried to pull the blonde Lord toward the tent flap in order to use the hospital tent as cover so they could escape to the rear while Snyder's bodyguard and the others covered their retreat.
But Luke remained where he stood, struggling against Noah’s hold.
At a strangled cry from their left, both men turned to see Captain Malek felled by a fatal blow. Luke's face crumpled and he staggered as if the blade had struck his own body. The death of such a loyal and trusted man hit him hard. He suddenly felt like there was so much blood on his hands. Maybe Oliver had been right. Perhaps they should have been satisfied with banishing Grimaldi from Oakdale.
Sir Mayer took the opportunity to grab Luke and push him through the opening as the others closed ranks behind them to cover their escape…
…
Inside the tent was a scene of utter confusion with Oliver barking orders to his subordinates in an effort to move and protect the injured.
Lord Snyder paused and looked at Reid. But the physician barely acknowledged the other man. He could not help them now nor could Noah and Luke help with the injured; getting Luke to safety was paramount.
“Come!” Noah muttered urgently as he pulled Luke to the rear of the tent.
Lifting the flap, he pushed the blonde through the gap and followed him out.
Draping Luke's arm around his shoulder, he supported the shorter man as they worked their way toward the stable tent. The two of them used the other tents as cover with Sir Mayer either guiding them stealthily past any enemy soldiers they encountered or silently picking them off one by one.
Finally, and much to their relief, they reached the stables only to discover that it was guarded by two of the enemy soldiery. The men looked bored; they obviously did not expect anyone to escape the others and reach as far as the stable tent.
“Stay here,” Noah whispered in hushed tones as he unwound Luke’s arm from behind his neck and settled the other man against the canvas wall of the tent they were using as cover.
Luke struggled as if to move to follow Noah but the Knight placed a hand firmly to his chest. “Stay!” he ordered before pressing a chaste kiss to the blonde's lips.
Before Luke could respond the other man was on his feet and moving stealthily toward the stables.
Knowing time was of the essence; the others could only hold the enemy back for so long, Noah worked his way to the rear of the tent. He paused, with his ear pressed to the canvas, listening for sounds of voices inside before using his sword to cut an opening into the canvas. Thankfully, once inside, he realized that the stables held only the few remaining horses and no further guards.
He let out a small sigh of relief when he saw that Luke's horse, Stepper, was still tethered in his stall. Fortune may indeed be looking down on them but he knew it would not last.
“Steady boy,” he soothed, hoping the animal would stay quiet, as he quickly saddled the steed before untying him and leading him quietly out of the opening he had cut in the canvas.
Once outside, Noah beckoned to Luke and watched as the man struggled to his feet and made his way over to them, his eyes darting this way and that to make sure he was unseen.
Before Noah could help the other man up into the saddle, they were disturbed by the sudden sound of shouts in the distance that were growing alarmingly in volume.
“Quickly. They have broken through!” Noah hissed as he almost bodily lifted the shorter man and hoisted him into the saddle.
Luke extended his hand toward the brunette to help him up into the saddle to sit behind him.
With a heart that felt like it was breaking in two, Noah shook his head slowly. He had intended to take flight with Luke, to protect him and ensure he made it to safety.
With the enemy closing in, Noah bleakly realized he had no choice but to stand and fight whilst covering Luke’s escape.
The look on the other man’s face told him that Luke realized that too. The blonde began to slide down off the saddle. “I must stay. I cannot leave the men to their fate like this… I cannot leave you,” his voice broke at the last word.
Noah’s large hand gripped Luke’s thigh and kept him from climbing down off Stepper’s back.
He was torn between wanting to pull the man down from his horse, hold him close and kiss him senseless for his devotion to the men… to him… or shaking some sense into him for being so stubbornly obstinate.
“No! You must survive, Luke. If you do not then all of this sacrifice… this death… will be for naught and they would have won. This day is lost here. But you must get to safety and regroup the survivors. You can inspire the troops like no other. You have to live, Luke.” Noah’s voice was breaking at the end but a grim determination settled on his features.
Luke’s eyes shone with the wetness of building tears and he opened his mouth to reply. “Noah…” But here, at the last, there was no time for more words and he could only grasp Noah’s hand where it rested still on his thigh. His arms ached and his lips tingled with the desire to hold Noah close and kiss him once again.
Warm hazel met intense blue and a shared look passed between them that spoke of many things; longing, want, need, tenderness, desperation, regret and utter hopelessness tinged with a flickering ember of a belief that they might yet meet again.
“Here!” A voice cried out and distracted the two men, both of them turning simultaneously to see that one of the guards had been alerted by the approaching soldiers and had discovered their position.
“Over here!” The man's shout was echoed by his fellow guard to attract the attention of the others.
Noah turned back to face Luke. “Go!” he pleaded.
Seeing the blonde's hesitation he added, “I will find you! I swear, I will find you.”
He pulled his hand free and raised it to hit Stepper’s hindquarters. “Go!”
After staring at the departing form of horse and rider for a long moment, Noah spun on his heels and gripped his sword, raising it high. “I will find you!” he repeated to himself like a rallying cry as he prepared to defend Luke’s retreat to the very last breath in his body…
…
“Escaped?!” Damian Grimaldi's voice bellowed in rage.
The kneeling man did not need to raise his head to know that his master's face was twisted in anger.
“You fool! How could you let him escape?”
The man bowed his head even further as if being more subservient would temper Grimaldi's wrath. “He was aided by Mayer. I could not intervene without revealing my identity.”
“Mayer! Curse his interference. He was supposed to be held at bay with the rest of the column in the valley. Why was this not so?”
“He broke free with the rearguard, my Liege.”
Grimaldi paused as he processed the information. “Did he escape with Snyder?” He spat the blonde’s name out as if the mere sound of it on his lips was abhorrent. Maybe all was not lost if they had, at least, captured Mayer.
“No, my Liege. I saw Mayer after Snyder had escaped but then lost sight of him in the fighting that followed. We are searching the encampment now to account for the missing amongst the bodies,” the bowed man explained, his voice trembling in fear of his master’s fury.
“Look. At. Me,” Grimaldi punctuated his words with hate.
Not daring to disobey but fearful to look on his master’s countenance in such a rage, the man slowly lifted his head, his heart pounding in his chest.
“You will find Snyder and you will bring him to me. Then, you will receive suitable punishment for your failure today,” Grimaldi breathed out in measured tones which terrified the kneeling man even more than if his master had screamed the commands at him.
Without further utterances, Grimaldi’s face swirled out of focus to be replaced by the smooth black finish of the mirror’s surface and the man let out a shaky breath, unable to command his legs to move just yet…
Chapter 7
Back to master fic post