waned. His wounds gushed blood, making the hilt of his sword slippery enough that he dropped it. He started in horror, bending down to retrieve his lifeline.
She lowered her hand, sword level with the ground. She thrust upward, straight through his cold, dead heart. He gasped, choked, coughed. Blood and spit sprayed from his mouth. She jumped out of his way as he fell forward, writhing onto his back. The action pushed the blade a foot in the other direction. The ground damped a blackish red. As she watched, his triple grey iris faded to near white, leaving tiny specs of his pupils in their wake.
She’d killed a man. In all of her years, all of her fights, she’d never taken a life. Her chest hollowed, her body numb, save for the aches in her limbs, she sagged. She only wished her mind would quiet, but she wasn’t the fainting type. Thought after thought, plan of action and consequence flashed. The options from this pivotal moment in her life were few. Turn herself in, or run.
All around her, the charred, broken forest billowed with smoke, highlighted by small, dying flames. The ground littered with battered bodies.
The quivering Neasan cowered under Fallon and Dearg’s attentions. What sort of Knight forfeited himself in a fight? They fought to the death, or not at all. The Queen would be displeased.
But he wanted to live, so badly that he’d shame himself as a Knight. She’d use that in the only power play left to her.
Siobhan pulled her sword from Garbhan’s chest, sneering with distaste. Dragging his weight behind her closed the distance between her, and her men.
“What shall we do with him?” Fallon said blandly. Though inflection didn’t mar the perfection of his outward cruel expression, by now she knew him. Brutality against the men who were once his brothers shattered his heart.
But, they’d agreed this might be necessary to their survival. In the end, that mattered above all else.
She swallowed, and stared at the body of the man she’d once been ordered to marry. Goddess, she hated him. Hated that up until the moment she’d run him through with her sword, he’d thought to own her.
Staring at the little man, she debated his waning strength. Bile rose as she came to a decision. Bloodied blade high in the air, the edge shone in the sunlight. With a heavy thump, she cleaved Garbhan’s head from his body. Even his long hair sheared from the force. She swallowed again as she plucked the thing from the red stained grass.
She walked to the fallen Knight, and tossed the head at Neasan. “You, plebeian, will take this as a token to the Seelie Queen.” She paused. “Alongside an important message. You will remember this word for word; as it’s the only reason I suffer you to live.”
He bowed his head, Fallon’s blade nicking his throat. Blood welled, running down his pale, sickly flesh. “Yes, my lady.”
“Tell the Queen that I live. That Fallon O’Beollain and Dearg O’Dunlaigh are mine, and mine alone. I claim them. Should she send anyone after any of us, I will unleash my full wrath upon her and her alone. If she does not fear this, remind her, I killed the Captain of her guard in a rightful, fair battle. I shall do everything in my power to see that Fallon O’Beollain completes his oath, and ends her pitiful existence.”
To his credit, Fallon stayed immune to the threat. He lifted his sword an inch.
“Y—you have my oath that I will pass on your token and message,” he stuttered.
The coward he was, Neasan scrambled from harm’s way and snatched his Captain’s head. Without a word, he ran from the forest.
A sizzling startled the silence of forest, followed by the crunch of bone. A naked Dearg strolled from the trees. She untied her cloak, handing him the cover. She choked on her emotions as she whirled, and left the scene, into the untouched trees.
The familiar walk took no more than an hour. In front of the cottage that had been her life for twenty-five cycles of the moon
She lowered her hand, sword level with the ground. She thrust upward, straight through his cold, dead heart. He gasped, choked, coughed. Blood and spit sprayed from his mouth. She jumped out of his way as he fell forward, writhing onto his back. The action pushed the blade a foot in the other direction. The ground damped a blackish red. As she watched, his triple grey iris faded to near white, leaving tiny specs of his pupils in their wake.
She’d killed a man. In all of her years, all of her fights, she’d never taken a life. Her chest hollowed, her body numb, save for the aches in her limbs, she sagged. She only wished her mind would quiet, but she wasn’t the fainting type. Thought after thought, plan of action and consequence flashed. The options from this pivotal moment in her life were few. Turn herself in, or run.
All around her, the charred, broken forest billowed with smoke, highlighted by small, dying flames. The ground littered with battered bodies.
The quivering Neasan cowered under Fallon and Dearg’s attentions. What sort of Knight forfeited himself in a fight? They fought to the death, or not at all. The Queen would be displeased.
But he wanted to live, so badly that he’d shame himself as a Knight. She’d use that in the only power play left to her.
Siobhan pulled her sword from Garbhan’s chest, sneering with distaste. Dragging his weight behind her closed the distance between her, and her men.
“What shall we do with him?” Fallon said blandly. Though inflection didn’t mar the perfection of his outward cruel expression, by now she knew him. Brutality against the men who were once his brothers shattered his heart.
But, they’d agreed this might be necessary to their survival. In the end, that mattered above all else.
She swallowed, and stared at the body of the man she’d once been ordered to marry. Goddess, she hated him. Hated that up until the moment she’d run him through with her sword, he’d thought to own her.
Staring at the little man, she debated his waning strength. Bile rose as she came to a decision. Bloodied blade high in the air, the edge shone in the sunlight. With a heavy thump, she cleaved Garbhan’s head from his body. Even his long hair sheared from the force. She swallowed again as she plucked the thing from the red stained grass.
She walked to the fallen Knight, and tossed the head at Neasan. “You, plebeian, will take this as a token to the Seelie Queen.” She paused. “Alongside an important message. You will remember this word for word; as it’s the only reason I suffer you to live.”
He bowed his head, Fallon’s blade nicking his throat. Blood welled, running down his pale, sickly flesh. “Yes, my lady.”
“Tell the Queen that I live. That Fallon O’Beollain and Dearg O’Dunlaigh are mine, and mine alone. I claim them. Should she send anyone after any of us, I will unleash my full wrath upon her and her alone. If she does not fear this, remind her, I killed the Captain of her guard in a rightful, fair battle. I shall do everything in my power to see that Fallon O’Beollain completes his oath, and ends her pitiful existence.”
To his credit, Fallon stayed immune to the threat. He lifted his sword an inch.
“Y—you have my oath that I will pass on your token and message,” he stuttered.
The coward he was, Neasan scrambled from harm’s way and snatched his Captain’s head. Without a word, he ran from the forest.
A sizzling startled the silence of forest, followed by the crunch of bone. A naked Dearg strolled from the trees. She untied her cloak, handing him the cover. She choked on her emotions as she whirled, and left the scene, into the untouched trees.
The familiar walk took no more than an hour. In front of the cottage that had been her life for twenty-five cycles of the moon
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