King Wesley's anger weakened for only a moment.
Harlow took advantage of this moment, dropping the sharp blade from her sleeve and flinging it harshly at her grandfather's arm, just barely missing Enders.
Quickly, Enders scattered away from him, grabbing one of the many swords that littered the floor. He held it up, looking at the man evenly and coldly.
“Come on, Enders,” Harlow said, moving backward toward the kitchen.
Enders panted, taking a step backward. He was brave, but that didn't stop him from being scared.
Without any warning, King Wesley sprung forward, seizing the swords blade with his bare hand, and twisting it out of Enders palm. The blade glinted in the torch light as the metal met flesh and the shimmer of metal mingled with blood. King Wesley held onto the sword until he'd pried it from Enders hands, blood dripping down form his hand and making a small puddle on the floor. Pain didn't deter him from what he intended to do.
The king turned the blade and hit Enders in the stomach with the hilt of the sword, kicking him once in the stomach, then turning to Harlow. He stared at her, keeping the sword in his hand while he reached for the small carving knife that protruded from his shoulder. He pulled it out of his body with barely a flinch, keeping his eyes on Harlow the entire time. Harlow watched as her grandfather dropped the blade, letting it fall to the ground and echo throughout the room.
Horror washed over her as he stood over Enders, the sword hovering just over Enders chest.
The glint of delight in man's eyes as he looked down at Enders sickened Harlow to her very core.
Enders scrambled back and tried to stand up, slowly composing himself, as he found his way to his feet. Harlow only knew he was scared because she knew him, but if he'd been a stranger, she wouldn't be able to notice his fear.
“Kill me.”
Harlow let her jaw drop as she watched Enders come a step closer to the king. She was only several feet back. Maybe she could rush forward and snatch the sword away.
'Maybe we could run? Maybe we could get away?' She thought to herself, letting her mind run wild with ideas. She couldn't focus much, but she knew that she was processing the words late.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” The king sneered, an eyebrow raised. “To bad you're still useful.”
Enders laughed bitterly. “I'm better off dead.”
Harlow felt her heart ache at the words. She took one small step forward, but found herself stopping before she got close enough to do anything.
“You, girl,” King Wesley said to her, addressing her generically. “You move one more muscle, and this man dies.”
Harlow, although her heart ached and her throat dry, managed to get out a small squeak in response.
“Do you want to be responsible for his death?” King Wesley asked, finally taking one long glance at her before putting his attention back on Enders.
Harlow wanted to look around the room but decided not to, afraid that his threat was serious.
“Do it.” Enders said, standing tall in place. He lifted his head and looked directly into the royalty's eyes. “Kill me.”
King Wesley's lips twitch, wanting to broaden into a smile but refusing to give into the impulse. “Why should I?”
Enders narrowed his eyes evenly with the man before him. “I'm the son of the man who single-handedly killed thousands of your soldiers. I'm the son of a thief and a liar, an ex-nobleman and an outlaw. My father could bring down your throne. Now, imagine if I aid him in that conquest.” Enders chuckled, disgust and disdain in his voice. He took a step closer to King Wesley. “I'm valuable only to the Outlaws. kill me then and let her go.” Enders nodded backward to where Harlow stood.
“Why should I?” The king's lips twitched to smile and his eyebrow raised. “She doesn't seem very useful. It would be a bad strategic decision to let her go.”
“Ah, yes. Strategy is important.” Enders said, a sad smirk on his lips. “I'm sure you knew that before, king. I'm sure you know many things,” Enders held his smirk and kept his eyes on the king, “except where Robin Hood dwells.”
The king's expression stilled in a cold glare.
“Not surprising,” Enders shrugged, “for such an incapable king.”
The king's expression grew angry. His eyes flashed irritation and belligerence. He tightened his grip on his sword and took a step and a half forward until he stared into Enders eyes. “On your knees,” The king demanded, the sword still hovering over Enders heart.
Enders exhaled. “No. If you kill me, I will die with my pride.”
“Outlaws have no pride!” The king shouted, his anger echoing off the walls and resonating throughout the ballroom.
“I do,” Enders argued, holding his defiant gaze, and keeping his voice calm and even.
The king sneered, disgusted with Enders. “Then you will die for your pride.”
Harlow watched as Enders closed his eyes, accepting and expecting his own demise. King Wesley brought back the sword in his hand and was just about to propel it forward, into the Ender's heart.
Harlow wanted to rush forward but found herself frozen.
Bang! Crack! Doomsh!
Harlow felt herself rush back to reality as the strange sounds broke out. She lunged forward, taking Enders hand and pulling him a step backward, a giant piece of stone cascading over King Wesley's head and falling to the floor before the two outlaws.
The king stood still, sword held in the air hovering for a moment. His old, dark eyes blinked once before his knees buckled underneath him, and without warning, he fell to the ground, limp and collapsed.
Enders stood in shock beside Harlow, staring at the man's pathetic body, laying on the ballroom floor for only a moment. They both looked up, turning their attention to a woman who stood before them.
Her pale skin and brown eyes seemed to radiate with strength, Her dress was worn out and torn in many places. Her long light brown hair flowed down over her shoulder, although Harlow could see the gray streaks of many sleepless nights in them. The woman lifted her chin to the two and heaved in ragged breaths, letting them echo throughout the room. Harlow couldn't tell why, but something felt almost nostalgic about the scene before her.
“Go now,” The woman breathed, her pale skin and her dirty dress making her look peasant-like. The woman's face was straight and V-shaped.
Enders nodded and turned around, pulling on Harlow's hand, her body refusing to budge. She stared at the woman, trying to place her face with one of her many fleeting memories.
Instead, Harlow stared at the woman who stood doubled over, her hands resting on her knees and keeping herself up. It was almost as if her body was threatening to give up on her.
Harlow squinted at her, trying to fit a name with a face.
The woman looked up and offered a stern look. “You need to leave. Now.” She warned, still taking in labored breaths.
Harlow looked between the woman and The King's body lying on the floor. She found herself speechless as she set her gaze on the pathetic figure on the ground. They had the same hair color and texture. Harlow recalled the color of the tyrannous king's eyes: a light shade of brown. She looked to the woman, noticing that their eyes matched exactly.
Harlow took a meek step forward, words coming out of her mouth before she gave them a thought. “Come with us.”
The woman shook her head, her breathing slowing down to a normal rate. “No. I can't. I would only slow you down.”
Enders gave a small, impatient tug on Harlow's hand. She knew he was pressured and scared. He wanted to be done with this place, but how could anybody simply walk away from a woman who looked so battered and beaten by all the elements.
“Harlow!” The woman said sternly, warning her and putting pressure on her. “Don't worry about me. I can deal with my own father.” She rested her eyes on Enders, “Get out of here, the both of you. And don't let her come back.”
The woman's words finally hit Harlow, both Enders and Harlow pausing
momentarily before they really understood what was happening.
“Father?” Harlow asked, looking down at the body of the pathetic man before them.
'That makes you...'
“...the Princess.” Harlow thought, her body becoming stiff and shocked, and her vocal chords refusing to produce the question in her head.
Enders grabbed Harlow's hand as she involuntarily started to move forward.
“Mom?” The word came out almost inaudibly at first.
Harlow barely felt the contact of Enders' arms as he wrapped them around her midsection and pulled. Harlow laid her eyes on the woman before her. The first thing Harlow really noticed was her hair, although it had been grayed slightly, it was obviously a dark brown at one point.
Harlow looked over her garments, dirty and torn with age. She'd been imprisoned for a long time, Harlow knew that much.
Harlow's suspicions and deepest fears were coming true all at one time. Her darkest threat, her biggest weakness: her mother.
And she was alive.
“Go, now!” The princess yelled, pointing toward the kitchen exit as the sound of soldiers armor came clanking down the hallways and echoing throughout the halls.
Harlow wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. She found herself stuck in her own body, her words trapped inside of her. There was so much to say, so much to do, but nothing would be said or done as Enders dragged her away.
Enders took two or three steps backward with her raised off the ground, her feet dangling like a rag doll, before she started struggling gently. He backed away more and more, and the more he took her away from her mother, the more she struggled. She made small whimpers and started kicking her legs.
“Mom!” Harlow called out, the word bouncing off walls and curtains, finding it's way to her mother's ears. Enders continued pulling her back as she struggled against him harder.
“Harlow, go!” The woman shouted again, her pale, weak figure now glowing with strength for a short moment.
“No!” Harlow shouted, pushing against Enders, “Mom!” She kicked, trying to break free of his hold as he summoned the little strength he had and dragged her closer to the door.
Harlow held out one arm, trying to reach for her mother, as if she could extend her body across the room and embrace the woman. She watched her mother's figure become weakened and barely able to stand.
This woman stood over King Wesley's body, disgust written on her face as soldiers ran in and stared at the scene before them. They didn't advance on her, given that she was the princess, and if Wesley had died, she would be in power. The soldiers took glances between her and the king, not knowing what to do.
Enders dragged her through the Ballroom archway, taking her away from her mother, for what Harlow thought would be the last time.
Enders hurriedly pulled open a door, leading to a stairway in the Kitchen. It was dark, but Enders ducked into the tunnel, still holding onto Harlow sternly.
She felt dazed, everything happening in a blur.
She tried to turn back twice, but Enders held her steady, finally allowing her to run in front of him so they could escape. He kept a stern hand on her back as the two ran down the hallway.
Halfway to the exit, Harlow had composed herself and knew that she couldn't go back, unless she wanted to die. She spotted sunlight at the end of the tunnel.
It took five minutes before they broke out from the dark tunnel and into the sunlight, pushing open a door and rushing into the warmth they both missed so dearly.
Immediately they were greeted with the sounds of battle, screaming, and arrows. Green-tipped arrows flew around them, implanting themselves in the ground and protruding from dirt in an almost frightening way.
They tried to adjust to the light from the depths of the dark castle, but as soon as they were able to see, they noticed the calvary of outlaws pulling back and retreating into the forest.
Robin stood at their right, in the far distance, focusing on protecting soldiers standing just before him on a lower patch of grass, while an entire unit was deployed to deal with archers from castle windows. Robin and several other commanders, including Reggie, stood around the upper bank, shooting off arrows and downing as many knights as possible.
Harlow quickly searched the area for her father, but couldn't find any sign of his presence. It frightened her to her deepest core, but instead of focusing on it, she turned her attention to the battlefield.
Harlow gave the area one more glance before she took Enders hand, and rushed quickly to the right, following along the castle walls. Robin was the only person she entrusted to keep Enders safe, and if that meant she was going to protect him while they ran into the middle of battlefield, that's exactly what she would do.
She ran, keeping Enders' warm hand in hers, and making sure he kept up with her. She looked to her left, knowing that large stone walls were all that remain on her right.
She saw Robin Hood still in the same place that he was just moments before, still firing arrows wherever, and into whoever, he saw fit.
Harlow felt her lungs start to burn as she ran and she knew Enders would be having some trouble keeping up as well, but she knew he wouldn't give up now.
They were just a few feet from her goal: to be in Robin's line of sight.
Just as they stepped into his visibility, he turned around and started off in the opposite direction.
Robin scanned the area once before looking forward again.
Harlow cursed mentally, her only hope was gone, and they were on their own. There was no way to grab his attention. She couldn't and wouldn't yell out his name in front of all these soldiers. It would then only take a smart knight to realize who exactly Robin was.
She looked to her left, seeing the outlaws push back only slightly, making her stomach twist and turn violently.
Only a few seconds passed before she heard a loud, long shout from a far off distance. “Look over there!”
Immediately, she turned her head in the direction the shout had come from. Elwin stood, pointing at the two of them from across the plateau, a huge smile plastered on his face and his bow in his other hand, watching incredulously as he watched them come forward form the shadows.
Only the commanders and other leading men looked up, everyone else knowing enough to keep focusing on the knights that were progressing on them.
Robin, along with about six other men turned around and stared in the direction of Elwin's pointing. Almost at the same time, they all ran toward them on the plateau, picking up their positions and reading their bows. Harlow recognized Reggie and Elwin within the group.
Robin wore a huge smile, although concern was deeply embedded within his eyes as he stared down his bow and let several arrows fly into the battlefield before them.
Harlow watched as Robin yelled to another man, who yelled to several others.
Suddenly, several others ran to help the six men, pulling out their bows and arrows, sending down a storm of wood and stone upon the knights.
Harlow bent down, picking up two renegade arrows, holding them gently in her hand and knowing that this small piece of wood would soon be the end of someone else's life.
Harlow grabbed Enders hand, giving him one of the arrows, and taking a small look at him. He'd seemed to be relying on his reserves of energy, but he also looked so much better now that he'd been in the sun.
The bags under his eyes didn't look as bad and his figure didn't look nearly as weak as it had before. His face was stoic and determined. He gave her one look, which she returned. He turned his eyes back to the plateau, letting her hand drop and nodding once.
Harlow waited for a moment. Any second now, the knights would realize who they were and come after them.
She looked over the field and felt a sense of hope.
She could do this.
She could protect Enders.
They would both make it to the other side.
“Now,” She said quietly, sending the two into the m
iddle of a battlefield.
Chapter Twenty-three
They ran into the flurry of weaponry, throwing and shoving people out of their way.
It took about five seconds of absolute confusion for the knights to figure out that this prisoner and mere Castle-hand were working together.
“The prisoner!” One shout rang out next to Harlow, a little too close for her comfort. She felt a hand grab onto her arm and paused her running. She turned to the shouting man, waiting for only a moment before using all of her force to punch the man square in the jaw. The man stumbled back only for a second, before anger flared in his eyes and came back after her. She dodged his first blow, ducking her body low. She stood back up, turned the man around and, using all of her available force, plunged the arrow deep into his chest, blood pouring out from the wound like a waterfall.
The man let out a sickening gurgle before dropping to his knees at her right. The scene disgusted her, but she felt she had no choice. She wondered for a moment, looking at the blood on her hands, whether or not he really deserved to die.
The battle on the field seemed to be continuing in slow motion, as she looked to her hands and back to the body that lay at her feet. She found herself wondering truly if this image would haunt her in later times.
Then a full second passed, her brain switched back on, and time sped up to normal. She looked around, seeing Enders struggling with another man, his arrow against the man's dull sword.
Harlow reached down, refusing to look at the dead man's eyes and pulled the arrow out of the man's chest.
She sprinted forward and shoved the arrow into this man's stomach, giving Enders the opportunity to plunge his arrow into the man's chest, making him limp and killing him, blood soaking their hands as they stood up. Harlow gave it no thought, deciding that it was better to keep running than to look at the death and destruction that she was causing.
They were only about fifteen feet away from Robin, who stood, shooting arrows behind them and killing anyone who wanted to come after her and Enders. Man after man fell dead behind them as they tried to pursue them. Disgusting gurgling sounds, screams, and blood stained her memory. It made her sick of this place, the outlaws, and herself.
Sherwood Page 19
