by Jarod Meyer
He would surely be killed by those loyal to the evil man, but at least he would be saving more lives. However, if he failed to destroy him, it would all be for nothing.
It wasn’t as if he could simply go to the meeting tonight, and warn the rebels Luxor had already gone over the plan with him. Three of Luxor’s assassins would accompany William to the meeting place, and dispatch the insurgents before they knew what hit them.
Walking on eggshells all day around The Basileus, and now his frantic search for the justification for murder had worn William out. He felt like he just got finished with a hard days training with Meredox. He sighed, finally accepting his task, and without even realizing it slipped off into a meditative state.
Angelica smiled at him in the sunlight. Warmth hugged him, and he smelled the crisp white grass and rolling fields of Archonia. William’s friends were there - Katrina, Juarez, Brock, and Samuel. William called out to them, but he couldn’t make any noise. He also didn’t have any control over his body. He tried to move towards them, but his arms moved by themselves. The reached back and unsheathed his sword. He tried to pull back, but his mind wasn’t working. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t speak. He struggled with all his might as his sword descended again and again upon his friends. Then he could make noise, and his cry shook the room. He stood, gripping a short dark figure. Two others were trying to restrain him, and pull him away, but he came to his senses and dropped the man.
He was in his flat, the three men standing in front of him shrouded in black. They looked oddly like ninjas, clad in black leather armor, their masks carved to look like fearsome demons.
“What kind of fool approaches a man when he’s trying to rest?” William growled, looking them over, and then a light clicked on in his mind. It finally dawned on him. He had an idea.
“I’m changing the plan,” William said with authority.
One of the assassins stepped forward and spoke up.
“The master has made our orders clear,” he said in a hiss.
“Yes. I am aware!” William spat. “But I have meditated on this, and if the rebels aren’t all there tonight we will need to take some of them alive. Think about it, you fool. If all the rebels aren’t there, they’ll simply melt into the city and hide, and this whole thing will start over again.”
The assassin’s looked at one another.
“We will have to check with the master first,” another of the assassins said. She was small.
“By all means, go and check with you master, and perhaps he will kill you when we miss our opportunity to ambush the rebels at their meeting, and worse, potentially scatter his opposition to the wind,” William snapped.
He watched the small group, quickly noting their fear at the thought of facing Luxor’s wrath.
“I’m going. If you wish to join me, it is now or never,” he said, walking to the window, which had been repaired yet again. This time it had been put on a hinge and had a door handle.
Ha.
The three assassins followed quickly behind him. He had meditated for too long. He was upset. He wished that he’d killed one of the assassins by mistake as he woke up startled, but he dismissed the thought. His plan would take a whole lot of luck, and even more finesse. Gusting winds whipped around them as they flew, and William had to yell to be heard.
“Okay. When we reach the meeting place we will have them off guard. They are comrades in arms, and if we subdue their leaders the others will do whatever we say. The leader according to the Basileus is a guard captain by the name of Haraldr. He is mine. Once I have him you two target his lieutenants. Don’t kill them or we will have no leverage. The others won’t flee and we’ll have them at an impasse. Then you,” William said, pointing to the small female assassin. “You will go back to the palace for reinforcements. Upon your return we will secure and transport all of them. The Basileus will enjoy meeting them all individually.”
The assassins didn’t say a word, but they were following him, and that was enough. Just to play his part, he added, “If they do scramble we will know their faces. We will find them later. You don’t have to baby them, but just make sure they don’t bleed out,” he finished, immediately wondering if he’d overdone it.
Like their first meeting spot, this one was also in the abandoned part of the city. William prayed that there wouldn’t be anyone out on watch, but he also knew the resistance weren’t idiots. They approached the target building low, and fast. The building was a theatre. A large dome shaped building. It appeared dark and quiet.
Two guards stood sentry. One of the assassins sped up next to William and put two fingers to his eyes. He then pointed them outward towards the rebels standing watch. William didn’t have a choice. There would have to be some collateral damage. With his hand he motioned across his throat, signaling that they should be taken out.
William saw two of the dark warriors spread out into attack formations, one on each of the guards, but William sped up, overtaking the one on the right. The assassin was surprised, but slowed up, and let William take the target. The guard had his spiked helmet off, and William’s arms wrapped around his head before he even felt the air displaced from his body or heard his boots hit the ground.
Breath left the man instantly as William pressed hard on his throat. He jerked his body sharply, making it look like he broke the man’s neck He lay the man down, unconscious but alive. The second guard wasn’t so lucky. William watched his head roll off the tall building, his body in a crumpled heap. There wasn’t anything he could have done.
For the greater good.
The other two assassins took up positions on the rooftop, in what used to be a garden. William figured it was the spot for people to meet and mingle before and after a show. Luckily the rebels were so few in number that they couldn’t afford anymore guards at any of the entrances. They moved through the rooftop entrance, entering complete darkness. They could hear whispered voices echoing up from the staircase ahead.
They crept ahead, finally coming to theater. The room was lit much more than William expected. Some of the old stage lighting still worked, illuminating the massive room with bright beams of light. There were also more people present than he expected. He quickly counted eighteen.
William quickly spotted Georgia and Haraldr. None in attendance wore helmets, while some hadn’t even donned armor. Perhaps not everyone in Haraldr’s resistance was a fighter.
The rooftop entrance took them to a balcony stretching around the entire stage, with a series of other stairwells leading to the lower levels. They were set up perfectly for an ambush.
He motioned to the three assassins to fan out around the balcony, as William floated silently into the air. His eye was fixed on Haraldr who had two or three men standing around him. They were closest to the stage and facing outward, towards the rest of the group. Several armed people stood amongst the crowd, and William marked them.
He led to make sure there was as little damage as possible. He plummeted from the shadows, letting fly a series of fierce energy blasts to clip some of the armed men in the crowd. Four subsequent blasts knocked them from their feet, and as William hit the stage a shockwave knocked Haraldr’s lieutenants away. William drew his sword, and kicked Haraldr, dropping him to a knee. He pressed his blade across the captain’s throat.
A commotion ensued as some began to flee, but were knocked back by one of the assassins who contained them at the large – the only other exit from the main floor auditorium. The other two subdued the fallen men next to Haraldr.
“Everyone remain calm!” William shouted the room froze, but they looked as if they were about to strike. “If the Basileus wanted to kill you, then you would already be dead,” William said fiercely.
“You, bastard!” Haraldr shouted, but William dug the blade into his throat tenderly and a line of crimson urged him to keep silent.
“William no!” Georgia shouted in despair. “I trusted you!”
Two rebel men had to restrain her.
“I will ask you all to put down your arms. The Basileus cares for all of his subjects, and he doesn’t wish for you to be destroyed. If you put down your arms he will forgive,” William said.
Haraldr struggled even against his blade, and shouted, “Never! Kill these assassins! Flee for your lives.”
William had to put a stop to this. He took the blade from the man’s throat, and ran it through his back shoulder all the way to the hilt. The man howled in pain, and one of the braver rebels lunged at William.
William blasted the rebel back against the wall with a ball of light. It ripped through his armor, but didn’t kill him. “If anyone else moves! I will kill this rat!” William yelled, nearly spitting. Then he composed himself and continued. “Now, put down your arms or watch your friends die.” he repeated, speaking softly.
Georgia was still frantic, tears streaming down her face. The next few moments of silence seemed to last an eternity, and it all depended on them being cooperative. He hoped that they cared about Haraldr that much, but his confidence quickly faded.
“Let me go! Let me go you bastards! I will rip him apart,” Georgia shouted. Many of the other warriors looked restless also, and they started whispering amongst themselves, pointing like they were making a plan of counter attack.
“Georgia!” William said, desperately, trying to get her attention. “You must trust me. The Basileus will forgive you!” He said it so obviously that he thought he might just blow the entire act. Their eyes connected for a moment and William saw the hatred in her contorted face. He just stared at her silently trying to will his thoughts into her head. She shook her head slowly, but to his relief slammed her weapon against the ground.
Hope filled his heart as she spoke. “Lay down your arms, men,” she said in despair.
As the clatter of metal filled the room William wasted no time.
“Now to see that there is a peaceful transition, reinforcements will be arriving soon to take you all into captivity,” he said, motioning to the assassin in the back. She took off so quickly that she seemed a wisp of air.
“You must all understand that your crime is punishable by death, but your lord has seen fit to spare you. Still, this may include some incarceration time,” William said, trying to comfort the hostages.
“No, my brothers,” Haraldr sputtered in desperation, coughing blood onto the ground. William twisted his blade slightly, and the man cried again in agony. He gave it a few seconds more, and then he sprung his plan.
The world seemed to slow as he moved. His sword slid out of the guard captain’s back, and in one fluid motion turned into a spike at the end of a chain. It cracked like a whip as it shot through the first assassin’s throat, the force separating his head from his body. With another crack Gungnir shifted back to sword form, spinning end over end through the air at the last remaining assassin. His aim hadn’t been as accurate as he hoped, and the blade severed the man’s arm, but didn’t kill him. He moved in quickly, before the assassin could flee.
Cain flashed and bit, showering the wall with a crimson spatter. It glowed brighter red for a moment, and William heard a voice in his head.
I’m dying. No. Please help me. Oh god my arm. Oh god my throat.
William shook his head. He had no idea what had just happened, but the slip up gave everyone in the room time to react, and in the entirely wrong way. At least four men grabbed William from all sides. They were strong, and he struggled, but couldn’t break free. They turned him around so that he could see Georgia, who now cradled Haraldr in her arms.
“Let me go! I can heal him!” William shouted. He caught a hard fist to the stomach. It barely fazed him, but gave Georgia enough time to respond. Her eyes were filled with fire, and locked onto his.
“Kill him,” she said coldly.
“No you fool! I can save him! It was an act. I had no choice!” William said in desperation. He was fairly certain he could break free from these men by projecting, but it would wound them greatly.
“Why should I trust you!” she asked. “I don’t even know why I did in the first place. You led them straight to us.”
“I didn’t lead them anywhere. One of your own was caught. Luxor tortured him and he gave you up. I told you I had a mission. If Luxor had done it his way you would all be dead already, but I have a plan, and if any of you want to see Archonia, you will help me,” he cried, hoping his words rang true in their ears. This seemed to get their attention.
“Jinks? Is that who they captured? He has been missing?” she asked quickly.
“I don’t know, but Luxor ripped his heart out after he squeezed each of your names out of him, and my promise of forgiveness was a ruse to convince the assassin that flew away to bring reinforcements. As was that,” William said, motioning towards Haraldr with his head. “I didn’t want to hurt him. Hell, I don’t want to hurt any of you. But there is only so much I can do. Now if you want me to save him before that assassin returns with hundreds of guards to capture and torture the rest of you, then let me Go!” William yelled, wildly.
Georgia looked over at Raulph.
“He speaks the truth, I can see it in his energy,” he said.
Hell yes.
“Let him go,” she said, evidently convinced.
As soon as the men let go William was at Haraldr’s side, holding his head. Without hesitation he stuck his hand into the wound. Haraldr groaned in pain, and Georgia tried to grab William’s hand to stop him, but he batted it away. His energy poured out into the wound. The man relaxed as his warmth spread throughout him, and after a few seconds the wound began to get shallower.
“What do we do now?” Georgia asked, leaning in desperately.
“You need to do exactly as I say,” he said.
“One of your guards standing watch on the roof is unconscious on the south side of the building. Send someone to get him,” he said, not looking away from Haraldr’s wound.
“And the other?” she asked.
William shook his head. “I’m sorry, I did the best I could. After you get him you must gather all of your wounded, including the dead assassins. Dump one of bodies into the abyss,” he instructed, trying to keep his concentration.
“One of them? But why?” she asked confused.
“Just do it!” William shouted. “And bring his blade.”
“Go,” Georgia said to two of her fellow rebels. The pair took off through the exit to the roof, while two more grabbed the lifeless body of the assassin. Others grabbed the man William blasted, and any others that the assassin struck in the scuffle. The wound wasn’t healing fast enough, but at least it was closed. He was stable.
“We are out of time. This will have to do. Get him out of here,” William said.
“Where?” Georgia asked, frantically.
“That map I gave you. You will all have to flee,” he said.
Her eyes looked hollow, like he’d just taken everything from her.
“Listen to me,” William said, grabbing her. “You still have your friends, and nothing can replace those. I promise you. I promise you,” he said, shaking her. “You will all see Archonia!” He looked into her blue eyes.
Finally, she nodded, and William stood up with her still in his arms.
“Now I need your help,” he said.
One of the men brought over the assassin’s sword and offered it to William. He pushed it into Georgia’s arms. She looked at it, and then at him, realization dawning quickly.
“No!” she exclaimed.
“Luxor has to believe that I was betrayed. Otherwise there is no way that all of you escaped alive. I would have killed more of you than you know,” he said.
“For all he knows you had agents inside his palace.”
William turned to face the lights pouring out onto the stage. “Make it believable. Right in the back. Then go,” he said, through gritted teeth.
Every second she delayed the enemy reinforcements drew closer. Sweat dripped down his face again, and he wondered if
it was blood. She seemed to wait an Eternity, until William couldn’t handle it any longer.
“Do it!” he shouted.
Georgia cried out, the cold steel finding a hole in his armor, and separating his flesh.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
OUT OF THE SHADOWS
William should have been used to being mortally wounded by now, but a sword through the back hurts any way you look at it. He fell to his knees, agony blurring his vision. He growled through his teeth, every muscle in his body flexing involuntarily. Blood rushed to the wound, bubbling out of his armor and onto the stage.
He fell to his side, the sword effectively lodged in place. The others fled, and it was a good thing too. Not ten seconds after they left twenty dark armored figures crashed in through the ceiling. He guessed there were more outside. The last assassin was in the lead, and landed next to him, a confused look on her face.
“The bastard betrayed us!” William yelled, blood leaking out of his mouth. “What are you waiting for!? After them! They are fleeing the city!” William shouted.
The assassin motioned silently to two soldiers to gather William. The rest took off like fireworks, ripping through the ceiling. One of the soldiers brought William upright, and another removed the sword from his back. Agony tore through William’s mind, but he was starting to feel numb. Shock was beginning to set in. He had to concentrate to keep from passing out, but more so to start healing himself.
His mind created a lot of blood.
He was simply not healing fast enough.
Damn, wish Juarez was here.
The soldiers helped him up and could see that he wasn’t going to make it without help. They each grabbed up under the arm, one keeping pressure on the front of the wound, and the other the back. They didn’t know how to heal, but he guessed that they would take him to someone that would.
They took off into the air, and William groaned, watching even more blood leak out of his mouth and the wound. His aura blanketed him, and he continued to let it trickle into the wound, healing him as best he could. The night sky flashed in and out as his eyes opened and closed. He could remember bits and pieces of the journey, before he finally faded away.
