His pride would not, could not stand for it.
To be defeated by a mere brat with a few fancy parlour tricks, it was sickening just to recall it.
The bloody false knight couldn’t touch him, his treacherous second was equally useless before his skill with a blade.
Then some… demon child had come along and ruined everything.
He lost his arms, he lost his blade and he lost his army.
He was so close to running the demon down too, but then some form of witchcraft had knocked him down and denied him his vengeance.
Then, there was that abomination that appeared. The bloody brat and no good knight were going at it and he took the chance to make a strategic withdrawal.
He fully intended to raise a new army, to take back what rightfully belonged to him from these scum of the earth.
It was simple, go back to Gaspard, inform him that they were nearly successful and just needed a bit more time and resources.
Take the money offered, build up a new unit and show the demon brat what it meant to stand against one as favoured by the lord as he.
And he would have done so too, but somehow, Gaspard had been fed lies about what happened at the Vitae tower. And worse of all, the man had bought into them.
His employer believed that he, HE! The great Allant! Was responsible for the debacle and the girl getting away. Preposterous! Clearly, one of his competitors had decided to capitalise on his momentary set back.
Once he was back to full strength, he’d get to the bottom of that whoever was responsible would know his wrath.
But for now, he was in a rut. Stuck running through the Umbra Forest in the dead of the night while being chased by every other mercenary in Gaspard’s employ that happened to be in the area.
All were after his head on his emp- no, ex-employer’s orders.
Gritting his teeth, he shouldered his way through a particularly stubborn series of branches, ignoring the flare of pain that ran up his arm.
Gaspard was a fool for believing those lies and turning his back on him. He’d pay for this treachery as well. He’d see it done.
They all would.
No one disrespected the great Allant and got away with it.
But the boy.
Oh he’d get the most painful punishment of them all. For his insolence at daring to strike someone above his station and wound him so, he’d understand just what it meant to go against his betters.
He was nobility! He was power incarnate! And he would get the respect due his station. This world was his to take, anyone who stood against him would burn.
“I’ll get them, I’ll get them al-”
His rant was cut off as an armoured fist the colour of night connected with his face with an unbelievable amount of force.
He was thrown into a nearby tree and coughed up blood as he landed. A few of his teeth had been knocked clean off as the blow struck.
“WH-WHO DARES!”
“I dare, you bastard.”
The rest of his aggressor came into view. Armoured all over with the insignia of a wolf on his chest. The man was an enigma to Allant.
He’d never seen the man before in his life, not in his time as knight commander nor when he was a mercenary. Whoever this man was he was not one of Gaspard’s many enforcers.
“Who-who’re you? I’ve done nothing to you, leave me in peace maggot!”
“It’s not about what you’ve done to me, it’s about what you’ve done to your men.”
Confusion, and then realisation.
“That no good two-faced backstabbing traitor Denzel put you up to this didn’t he? Whatever he’s offering I’ll double it if you help me get out of here. Triple if you bring me his head once we’re done here. Eh, what say you?”
“Your bargaining posture is highly dubious.”
The black knight followed that statement with a devastating haymaker that sent Allant back to his knees, groaning in pain.
“You think he hired me for this. He used to serve under me you know, along with quite a number of the Iron Wolves you murdered. They are my men, their lives matter to me, yours does not.”
On the ground, Allant was reduced to begging miserably for his continued existence. And he was rewarded with an armoured boot to the ribs for his efforts.
Watching his prey roll on the floor in agony, the assailant began pacing back and forth.
“You betrayed them. You abandoned them. You murdered them. And now. You. Will. Answer for it.”
Punctuating each statement with a vicious kick, Allant was reduced to a sobbing mess on the floor as his bones fractured under the relentless onslaught.
A wet stain already spreading across his breeches, he could do nothing but try to weather the storm.
After what seemed like an eternity, the beating stopped and he was free to force air back into his lungs.
“Ple-please, I-I have money. I-I can pay you… ARRGHHH!”
Removing his foot from where he’d stomped down on Allant’s arm, the man knelt down and grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled Allant’s face up to meet his visor.
“You still think this is about money don’t you? And you’re trying to pay me off with money you obtained by selling your own men out? You are a special kind of stupid aren’t you?”
Smashing his head back into the ground, he left the moaning body where it lay and stood.
“Those men you killed. All the money in the world won’t bring them back. The only way for you to answer for it is with an equivalent exchange. A life for a life… even if they’d be rolling in their graves to know that yours is evidently equal to theirs.”
“No… no… please… have mercy.”
“I have a simple creed I live by. No mercy for the merciless. Today I’m here as your judge. You have been found guilty of crimes against your men. I’m here as your jury. The sentence is death. And lastly… your executioner.”
Ignoring the last pleas of the dying man, he drew his blade and with two swift strikes disarmed him.
A sharp scream reached his ears at that. In any other case he might have been moved.
But this man needed to answer for a great deal of sins.
And he would pay for it all in full.
Stowing away his sword, he grabbed Allant by his lapels and dragged him away, stopping at the edge of a fast flowing river.
“This is far more mercy than you deserve monster.”
With that, he raised Allant over his head and tossed him into the raging waters below.
“Nemo me impune lacessit. Rest in peace old friends, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to save you all but justice has been served.”
The disgraced knight commander’s scream was cut off rapidly as the surging waves dragged him under to his final destination.
With a wave of his hands and a surge of flux, the lone figure disappeared into the shadows, his spell already working to erase all traces of his existence.
Next stop Bose. Ahhh… no rest for the weary indeed.
Opening Moves (The Lion Knight Book 1) Page 29
