The Princess Knight

by G. A. Aiken

  “Do we?”

  They did. Although Thomassin, Bartholemew, and Brín had their weapons drawn and stood with Ragna and her small group of troops, Millie held the remainder of the ancient elders hostage at the moment.

  “Release them, Brother Millie!” Thomassin ordered.

  “I don’t take orders from you, false Grand Master.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “By the gods, this could take all fucking night.”

  The double doors to the chamber opened and more of Ragna’s troops rushed in. How they’d been alerted to the troubles here, Gemma wasn’t sure, but she was grateful.

  “Commander! We have . . .” The words of Ragna’s second commander faded away as she took in the sight before her.

  But Ragna ignored her own troops for the thin girl who’d been following them.

  Ragna pointed at Millie and barked, “Ainsley! Her!”

  Without question, Ainsley raised her already nocked bow and released. The arrow flew true and slammed Millie in the throat, sending her entire body jerking back several feet.

  “And those two!” Ragna added.

  Ainsley let two more arrows fly and she hit her marks without error.

  Shocked at her sister’s presence and Ragna’s ordering her around, Gemma asked Quinn, “When did Ainsley get here?”

  Quinn threw up his hands. “Woman! She’s been here!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Laila heard it first, wrapping her arm around Ainsley’s shoulders and dropping them both to the ground.

  “Down!” Quinn bellowed. “Everyone down!”

  Gemma dropped to her side as the entire monastery shook around her. She knew why. Her parents had built plenty of trebuchets and used them. They were being bombarded by fireballs.

  “They’re here!” Ragna called out when everyone got their bearings and scrambled to their feet. “Cyrus’s army is here! You all know your orders! Move!”

  “What orders?” a few monks demanded. Of course, the ones asking those questions had all been loyal to Sprenger. There were only a few of them left and with a nod from Ragna, her knights killed them quickly with a sword to the belly or a blade to the throat.

  Gemma jumped up. “What the hells are you doing?”

  The ones killed hadn’t joined in the attack with the others. They appeared ready to follow Thomassin’s orders. Why would Ragna kill them?

  Thomassin tapped Ragna on the shoulder. “Do what you must, Ragna. You know your orders.”

  “Her orders? How could she already have orders?”

  “The orders Joshua gave her a long time ago.”

  More fireballs hit the monastery and Gemma could hear her fellow knights below calling out orders to one another as they readied themselves for another attack.

  “I didn’t think they’d come so soon,” Thomassin told Gemma. “I thought we’d have more time. But our god Morthwyl will have his way.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tonight we fight against Cyrus and his army.”

  “Of course we do.” Gemma would expect no less. “I’ll get my—”

  “Not you, Gemma.”

  “What do you mean not me? I will fight by your side. I will defend all of you with my life.”

  “Joshua had other plans for you.”

  “What other plans? You need me with you if we’re going to fight Cyrus.”

  “We’re not fighting Cyrus. He’s somewhere else. Instead, we face several of his best legions. And tonight they will wipe the Order of Righteous Valor from the face of this earth.”

  Gemma closed her eyes and asked her question, but she already knew the answer. “And you’re going to let him . . . aren’t you?”

  * * *

  A monk Quinn didn’t know shoved the Amichai’s weapons into his arms along with a terrified Samuel.

  “Are you all right?” Quinn asked the boy.

  “Yes.” But each time another projectile hit the monastery, Samuel looked ready to pass out.

  “Where are the horses?” Quinn asked, hoping to keep him focused and alert.

  “Waiting for us at an exit that we will use to escape.” Samuel swallowed. “Apparently, we are going to escape?”

  “Yes. I’m starting to think that is the plan, which Gemma will not like. So be ready. I will have to move fast. Understand?”

  “Yes. And you will definitely have to move fast.”

  Quinn walked over to Gemma while quickly attaching his weapons to the sword belt on his kilt.

  “You can’t do this!” she argued with the elders.

  “Gemma—”

  “You can’t!”

  Thomassin, Bartholemew, and Brín were working hard to talk to her, but Quinn knew that look on Gemma’s face.

  “We’re war monks,” she argued. “Not some suicide cult.”

  “We’re going to go out there and fight as hard as we can. Fight as we always have. We all are. But we’re going to die. With honor.”

  “Then I’ll die with you.”

  “Like hells you will.” Thomassin grinned. “Joshua said you’d insist, but no.”

  “And what do you expect me to do? Spend the rest of my life mourning all my brothers?”

  “You’ll have no time for mourning,” Bartholemew promised. “Because what is destroyed here, will rise again.”

  Quinn sneered. “By Ofydd Naw’s cock, they want you to raise them all from the dead.”

  Brín rolled his eyes. “No, we don’t.”

  “Brín’s right,” Thomassin explained to Gemma. “It’s not us you’ll be bringing back. We’ll be feasting at our god’s table with Joshua.” He wiped a tear even as he smiled at the thought. “But you will be the one who leads Ragna, her army, and the librarians out through the tunnels and to your sister’s territory. There, our order will find new life.”

  Gemma shook her head. “I won’t do that. I won’t. I won’t leave you. I won’t—”

  Thomassin pulled his sword, ignoring Gemma’s words. He took the tip and used it to tap each of her shoulders.

  “I now bestow upon you the rank of general. Along with your battle-cohorts. They too will be going with you to your sister’s territory to teach and lead the next generation of our order. Understand.”

  “I don’t care if you make me queen of the universe and they’re coming with me to hell. I’m not leaving you.”

  Thomassin cupped her cheek. “You are leaving us, you pain-in-the-ass farmer’s brat. You are. And you will live and thrive and make us all so very proud. Now take her, Amichai. Take her and don’t stop.”

  “No! Thomassin, please! No!”

  But Quinn already had Gemma around the waist, shifting into his natural form as he lifted her off the ground. He nodded his head at the elders before he went up on his hind legs, turned, and charged through the open chamber doorway.

  “Let me go, Quinn! Let me go!”

  He heard the pain, the absolute agony in Gemma’s voice. Knew that at this moment, at this very second, he was destroying her in a way he’d never thought he could. But he knew in his heart, in his soul, that it was the only choice he had. This wasn’t about honor. This wasn’t about courage. This was about survival. Not just hers, but the survival of her precious brotherhood. Of all that she believed. That’s what Thomassin wanted and he was ordering her to make that happen. She couldn’t ignore her duty so she could die with honor.

  She tried to fight him, but he held her tight as he went down several flights of stairs. Farlan waited for them at the bottom.

  “This way!” he yelled over the invading army’s attack.

  He pushed past monks heading in the opposite direction. Some were already on horseback, making ready for their counterattack while ducking flying fireballs and falling pieces of building.

  Gemma almost got away from him twice, but still, Quinn didn’t let go. It cost him some torn flesh on his arm and he was sure at least one broken rib, but nothing that couldn’t heal.

  But he had to admit he was gratefu
l to see the others. If anyone could talk some sense into Gemma, it was his sister. He practically threw the woman in front of Laila and she immediately grabbed Gemma’s arm to prevent her escaping.

  “Let me go, Laila! I’m going back!”

  “Just listen to—”

  Laila didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because Gemma was wrenched from her grip by Ragna. The master general spun Gemma around and punched her once in the face.

  Quinn and his sister both cringed, and Gemma’s entire head snapped to the side. Quinn worried her jaw might have been broken.

  “Listen to me, little girl,” Ragna said, holding a dazed Gemma with one hand while pointing at her with the other. “I don’t have time for your dramatic bullshit. Our brothers are going out to meet that army to give us time to get a safe distance from here. You’re a general now. Act like one. So dry your fucking tears. Gird your loins. And lead. Or I’ll cut you open from cunt to throat and then I’ll tell your precious queen sister why I did it: because you’re being as whiny as a lovesick man. Do you understand me?”

  Gemma moved her jaw around a bit, as if she also wasn’t quite sure whether it was broken or not, before finally replying, “Yes, I understand.”

  “Good. Then go.”

  Gemma strode through the mostly empty stables—the last of the horses had been taken out by their riders—and over to Samuel. She grabbed the reins of her own horse and started down the tunnel, moving around the knights still entering. When she was gone, Ragna turned to Quinn and Laila.

  “Stop babying her,” she admonished.

  “We don’t report to you,” Laila instantly shot back. “You got a problem with how we deal with Gemma? Take it up with her.”

  The two females began to bicker but heard the whistling sound of an incoming projectile just above their heads. Quinn waited a beat to see if it would pass them, but no. It wasn’t passing them. It was coming right at them.

  Quinn grabbed both females and charged toward the tunnel entrance, diving in just as the stables were destroyed.

  * * *

  Gemma rode back after she heard the explosion and quickly dismounted from her horse. Farlan and Cadell helped her move the dirt off Quinn and Laila, but it was Quinn who dug out Ragna. Good thing since Gemma hadn’t realized the woman was with them.

  “Are you all right?” Gemma asked Laila, brushing the dirt from her friend’s face.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. Quinn?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a cough that mostly brought up dirt.

  Ragna, however, just wiped her eyes, gave one cough, and walked off to find her horse, which had thankfully gone in ahead of her.

  “Do you guys need help?” Gemma asked the siblings.

  “We’re fine. You go.”

  Gemma again mounted Dagger and rode ahead.

  “Pick up the pace!” she urged. “Let’s go!”

  She wasn’t sure how long the rest of the brotherhood could hold Cyrus’s legions at bay. And the tunnels were only big enough for seven or eight mounted knights to pass. So she and Katla, Shona, and Kir kept everyone moving while Ragna rode ahead to meet with her army, the bulk of which had been sent off four days before, according to Shona.

  The desire to go back was still there for Gemma, but she knew it wasn’t what Thomassin and the others wanted. So she pushed on into the same tunnel she’d taken when she’d returned to her family the first time two years ago. She pushed on even though this time it felt like it was killing her inside.

  * * *

  Thomassin sat on his horse and looked at his two battle-cohorts. He was glad to be riding into battle with them again. Glad to again be bringing honor to their god in a sacrifice of blood and death.

  He nodded once and Brín raised the banner attached to his steel spear.

  Thomassin took in a deep breath and then gave the Order of Righteous Valor charge command one last time: “Kill everyone!”

  * * *

  Quinn was bringing up the rear when he found Gemma standing in front of a smaller, unlit tunnel that shot off the main one everyone else was traveling. She was just standing in front of it, not moving.

  He stopped and stared down at her.

  “What are you doing?” he finally asked.

  “This should have been closed off.”

  “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

  “I guess. But Cyrus’s men could come up behind us now.”

  “Where does this go?”

  “To a ritual site under a sacrificial altar outside the monastery.”

  “Do a lot of sacrificing, do you?”

  “Just bulls before certain battles,” she said with a dismissive wave.

  “Do you want to take a look?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “But we’d better.”

  He grabbed a torch from the wall and together they began walking. They didn’t speak. Both of them had a lot on their minds, Quinn was guessing. He just wanted to get out of these tunnels. He hated tunnels. He liked being outside. With fresh air. Besides, he’d already been trapped once by a falling ceiling; he’d prefer not to test his luck a second time.

  The tunnel abruptly turned up ahead and as they went around the corner they stopped, coming face-to-face with a small unit of Cyrus’s soldiers. It was almost comical, the way they all stared at one another. Clearly neither expected the other to be there. But then the leader of the other group pulled his sword and Quinn pushed his burning torch into the man’s face. He screamed in pain and Gemma pulled out the gladius she still carried and immediately started stabbing those closest to her.

  The other soldiers stabbed back. Quinn was able to block most of them, but one blade made it through, slashing Gemma’s arm. She hadn’t been able to put her chainmail back on after her earlier fight with Sprenger so she wore only her cotton shirt. The blade cut through the material easily and straight across her flesh.

  Startled, Gemma yelped from the pain but it was the explosion from the wall that had her and Quinn falling back, raised arms blocking their eyes to protect them from rocks and dirt.

  Quinn heard horrifying screams, tearing flesh, and bones being crushed.

  He forced his eyes open to find that half-dead horse thing standing there with someone’s head in its mouth.

  “Gemma.”

  Gemma lowered her arm. “Kriegszorn.” She glanced at Quinn. “See? Value.”

  “See? Head in her mouth.”

  There was something farther up the tunnel that caught the creature’s attention. It growled and barreled off toward whatever it was.

  “Kriegszorn!” Gemma called out.

  “What are you doing? If it wants to kill something that’s not us, let it kill something that’s not us. Now come on!”

  He brought Gemma up with him and pulled her onto his back.

  “Hold on!” he ordered, racing back to the main tunnel and then catching up to the others.

  They reached Gemma’s horse Dagger and she quickly jumped off Quinn’s back and mounted her horse. Together, they continued down the tunnel, eventually reaching the others.

  Quinn looked back but didn’t see anyone following them. But that half-dead thing had heard something. She’d gone after something. He was afraid to know exactly what it was.

  * * *

  The battle had raged on for longer than either side had expected. Thomassin knew that all those who had died this night could go to their god with honor.

  Pleased that he’d done all he could possibly do, he dropped to his knees and looked down at the spear that had pierced his chest. Bartholemew and Brín had gone to meet Joshua minutes before. So it was his turn to follow the others into the next world.

  He saw Cyrus’s precious wizards moving toward him. They wanted his soul apparently, but he wasn’t going to let them get it. Both Bartholemew and Brín had died before the wizards had a chance to take theirs and he would make sure he did the same. He reached for a blade that was close by but a general slammed his foot onto Thomassin
’s hand, stopping him from doing what he needed to do.

  “Sorry, heretic, but there is no easy escape for you,” the general told him. “So just accept it and—”

  It came out of nowhere. A thing Thomassin had never seen before. Half of it looked like any normal horse, but the other side . . .

  The other side just looked dead. Extremely dead. But as dead as it might look, it fought like it was still alive and very pissed. First, it impaled one of the wizards on what appeared to be a tusk. Then it bit the arm off another wizard before impaling him too. It stomped the third wizard into the ground. When it was done with them, it turned on the general still holding down Thomassin’s hand.

  “Unclean thing!” the general cried. “I shall destroy you in the name of my god!”

  It studied the general a brief moment before looking down at Thomassin, making him feel as if it was asking permission to do what he could not do for himself.

  Smiling, Thomassin nodded his approval and the thing that had saved his soul from these bastards unleashed a cleansing fire that released his soul to the war gods he had fought for until his very death.

  * * *

  When Gemma finally made it out of the tunnel, she and the remainder of her entire order were miles from the monastery. And yet . . . they could still see it burning even from where they stood.

  She climbed a large rock and stood staring, gawking really as the flames and smoke rose high into the night sky and the life she’d known for a decade was destroyed.

  She wanted to cry. To scream. To destroy the world with her rage and pain and heartache. But she couldn’t do any of that. Not now.

  “You have a job to do,” Ragna reminded her.

  Gemma closed her eyes, wishing that of all those who had died this night, one of them had been gods-damn Ragna.

  “I know. To get everyone to Keeley’s territory.”

  “No. Ainsley can do that. Or Samuel. You have another job.”

  Gemma jumped off the boulder in front of Ragna. “And what’s that?”

  Ragna handed her a scroll with a map printed on it. “Go here. See if any of the representatives of these sects arrive and provide them protection on the journey back to your sister’s castle. I’ll meet you there.”