by Billy Wong
"Stop!" Mark yelled to the heavyset man who made to advance. He put his own sword to Marcus' throat just in case. "Don't move or he's dead."
Kyle contradicted him. "Drop your weapon and come. Slowly."
With a bit of reluctance, the man did. Suddenly Kyle's sword lashed out, cleaving his neck. His head thumped on the floor, and his headless corpse crumpled.
"That was for Lindy."
Mark stared while Kyle returned his sword to Marcus' neck. "Was that really necessary? We already killed the Duke."
"Yes," Kyle said with a threatening look at Marcus, "and I will kill anyone else involved I catch."
Their captive panted for air and bled from a cut face and leg, but managed a grin. "No, I don't think you will. After all, your princess' life is in my father's hands."
"Your f-father?" Mark asked in disbelief. "But isn't he dead?"
"Not that pretentious fool. I mean my real father, who no man can defeat—Helrish Deathsface."
So that was who fought Ann? Mark's mouth went dry with fright, but he found himself not overly surprised. He broke into a run for the door. "Watch him, Kyle!" he shouted back. "I'll come back... I hope..."
#
Meanwhile Ann and Helrish had only begun to fight, for they had been busy exchanging verbal barbs since Mark and Kyle's exit. She circled him and he stood his ground, turning in place to follow her.
"Helrish Deathsface, huh?" she asked with a parried high cut. "The name suits you, for being so ugly."
In all honesty, Ann was slightly scared, but far more excited to face such a legendary adversary. Her heart pounded with anticipation and joy. Finally, an opponent worthy of her skills! But why wasn't he fighting back?
She blasted at his guard, her sword a shining blur as she went at him like a whirlwind. Without shifting his feet he deflected many strokes, then pushed her back with a powerful block. "Why don't you attack?" she spat in frustration. "Afraid your old geezer bones can't keep up?"
"You do have a point. If we continue like this, we may not have long alone. So, let us finish it."
"What you mean, finish? We've barely started!"
"No. Still, it is over." He shot forward with astonishing speed, which Ann would not have believed were she not seeing it now. His hand closed around her neck and bore her up, smashing the back of her head into the solid stone wall. Stars danced in her eyes, and she might have blacked out for an instant. She recovered quickly, pried at his crushing fingers, but could not budge them whatsoever.
Reaching down, she drew a dagger from its sheath at her thigh and stabbed him in the forearm. He scowled, swung her away from the wall and planted her into the ground. Needles of pain stabbed her creaking spine, but she kicked up over herself to strike him in the head and kipped up.
When she turned to face him again, his foot between her legs lifted her into the air.
She crashed down facefirst, groin and pelvis screaming. Set her palms against the floor and started to push herself up. Something slammed into her back. Pain like molten lava exploded through her chest. She looked down to see the end of Helrish's sword jutting out between her breasts.
Long seconds later, the blade grated against bone as it withdrew from her flesh. A red river poured from the hole in her breast. "Get up from that," Helrish said.
Ann gagged, blood dripping from her mouth, but tried still to obey. She rose on shaking arms, and focused her magic in an attempt to heal herself. No effect; her wound was too bad. Her strength gave out, and she fell back. But she did not give up. Again she set her hands and made to rise.
Approaching footsteps reached her ears. She looked up to see Mark in the door, staring at her. "No, Mark, leave! There's nothing you can do."
She had not resigned herself to death. She really believed she could stand up, could still win, but Mark could not help her do that. Against a foe like Helrish, overwhelming in speed and skill even to her, he would only be slaughtered.
He ignored her, looking instead to Helrish who stood over her with sword poised. "Don't kill her!" he blurted out. "She... she is your daughter!"
Ann blinked, eyes huge. Was he trying some crazy ploy, or was he serious?
Helrish swung his gaze upon Mark. "And what makes you believe that?"
Mark's words came out very, very fast. "She's rumored to be the offspring of a demon, as I'm sure you already know, that impregnated her during the Vorhen War. But I was talking to the daughter of a woman who fought in that war, and she told me in her mother's diaries she said the queen acted oddly close to you. Moreover, she wrote that the king seemed extremely surprised when the queen turned pregnant, like he thought it was impossible. So I'm thinking King Leo didn't make love with her much during the war, if at all—but you did.
"You're the 'demon' who sired her."
Helrish regarded him coolly and nodded. "Correct. At least, your knowledge of the queen's behavior is. But how can you be certain she is mine, and not another's? She is promiscuous enough herself, who is to say her mother was not the same?"
Ann bared her teeth in anger. She didn't mind people labeling her a slut, but hated hearing her mother called something she was not. "You piece of shit! Everyone knows my mother was pure and true!"
"You yourself know how she was," Mark said to Helrish. "Do you think she would've had another man or not?"
"No," he admitted. "She would barely have me, but I lent her strength when her husband was not steady enough to do so himself."
Mark continued. "Besides, someone told us one of Ann's parents was likely a mage or someone with magic in their blood, and while you may not cast much in the way of spells, all your extraordinary deeds hint at something magical."
Helrish grinned then. "It is quite probable she is mine. But Mark boy, did you not think I already knew that?"
"What?! If you suspected she was your daughter, how could you possibly kill her?"
"Kill her? She is not dead. Are you, Ann? Stand up for father."
She did so with great effort, clutching her torn chest; not so much out of any sense of filial duty, than to be ready to resume fighting him.
"Are you all right?" Mark asked as he came to her side. He grimaced at her grisly wound. "He roughed you up good. How cruel, to hurt your own daughter so!"
"I'm fine." She winced, unable to even talk without agony. "Don't mind him too much, I did want to fight him myself."
Mark gave Helrish a pleading look, then turned it upon Ann. "You have to stop now. Or somebody will die!"
"I don't want to kill her," Helrish said. "She is quite an impressive girl. But Marcus claims to be my son too. I am in something of a dilemma then, no?"
Mark frowned. "You could help to resolve things peacefully between us, or if that doesn't suit you just let your children settle their conflict themselves. But what you mean, 'claims?'"
"He is not my son. His mother told him he was, and I let him continue believing so, but she had other men and he bears no magic in his blood."
"Then why do you keep helping him commit evil deeds, if he isn't your son?"
"Have I helped him, against you? If I had you would long have lost. No, it is merely good entertainment to watch this game between Brianna's son and 'mine.' That a daughter of mine may also be involved only makes it more interesting.
"What about before we met? Surely, you've been with him since before he came after me?"
"My guidance allowed him to become what he is now. He won the Duke's affection with dreams of power in mind, and thanks to you he is one step closer to his goal." So Marcus had always seen his adoptive parent as a mere tool. Had he been behind the plot against Mark from the beginning, too?
"I already know what I can do. Now I want to see what effect those I create can have on the world."
"You should help us," Ann said. "If I might be your daughter, what better way to start"—she looked down at the gaping hole in her chest—"mending our bond?"
"We don't need his help," Mark whispered into her ear. "We've already
got Marcus caught."
Helrish angled his head towards the door. "I will not help and spoil the game. But I will not interfere with you any more either. After all, I only wanted to see what kind of fighter the Lady Ann truly is."
"And you had to skewer her through the chest to do that?" Mark muttered.
"I am not quite satisfied yet. If you must deter our fight, leave now before I change my mind."
Mark clasped an arm about Ann's waist and helped her past Helrish through the door. She leaned heavily against him, barely able to keep her feet moving forward. With the fading of her battle-rage, her limbs grew heavy along with her eyelids.
"Was all that about our relationship true," she asked weakly some steps later, "or just a product of your cunning?"
"The facts I used to make my argument were true, though I only put them together just now. As for whether you're actually his daughter, I can't be sure."
"But it's very probable, yes? So I'm Helrish's daughter," she mused at his nod. Possible issues with her status as princess aside, she was quite proud to find herself the daughter of such a peerless warrior. "Not bad."
He was silent for a bit with typical surprise, then looked up and said, "Looks like you finally met your match, huh? Never thought I'd see the day you lost a straight fight."
Ann was quite embarrassed at how she easily had been handled without getting a chance to redeem herself. She scowled. "Lost? What are you talking about? I was just about to find my second wind."
"I love you." He said it quickly, in a soft voice, and she almost missed it.
When the words registered at last, Ann met his eyes and smiled. "Are you finally saying that just because you're worried about me? You're so sweet.
"I love you, too."
#
They returned to the Duke's room, where Kyle stood restraining Marcus in the exact same position Mark had left them in. "What are you doing?" Mark asked. "Shouldn't you have tied him up by now?"
Kyle kept the tip of his sword at Marcus' throat. "I did not want to risk giving him any openings for a sudden movement. Now that you've returned, you can tie him up."
Mark did, binding his arms behind his back with the sturdy rope they had brought. As he could not support Ann while doing so, he feared she would collapse. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and her face white as ash. Nonetheless, she managed to remain upright until Mark had secured his man. He went back to her side, ignoring her halfhearted insistence on being all right, and lent her his shoulder again.
"How could you come back?" Marcus snarled at the wobbling princess. "Damn you, father, you disloyal cur! To think your heart would be soft for a pretty face and her pathetic boy."
"Soft hearted?" Ann asked. "How do you know I didn't just kill him?"
"What? No way you could have! He is Helrish..."
"I didn't," she conceded. "But I could have."
"You pests! You'll never get away with this!"
"We should grab any recent documents we can," Kyle said. "Hopefully, we'll find some evidence against the Dukes among them."
They went next door to the study, where they stuffed the fresher-looking contents of the shelves and desk into sacks. Then they headed for the manor gates, Marcus between the men with two swords at his neck while Ann held her chest and mostly concentrated on staying awake. Some of the Arrith guard had begun to arrive on the scene, but seeing they held the Duke hostage did not advance. Further away, spectators gathered on the streets to watch the drama. Mark held his breath as he glanced across the nearby roofs in fear of snipers.
Suddenly a wagon sped down the street, drawn by mightily straining horses, to stop just before Marcus' estate. In the driver's seat sat an unexpected figure.
"Gerrard?" Mark asked when he recognized the man. "What are you doing here?"
"Just because my wife doesn't want in on the action doesn't mean I feel the same. Looks like you had a rough time."
"It could've been worse. Where's my father?"
Owen poked his head out from the wagon. "I'll take him from here," he said, stepping forward towards Marcus. "You see to your friend."
Glad to escape the tense burden of holding Marcus, Mark moved beside Ann. Kyle would be more than adequate to aid his dad. "How are you holding up? Can you heal your wound yet?"
"No. But why ask if I'm okay? The answer's always going to be 'I'm fine.' We should talk about something else, like what we're going to do once we're done here with Marcus."
He shrugged. "I suppose I should keep looking for Brianna, but it seems so hard. Maybe things will be easier once all this other business is out of the way. Do you think she's still in Arrith?"
"I don't know. But after seeing Helrish here, I'm thinking she might have come to visit him. They are longtime acquaintances."
"I hope we won't have to ask him. He scares me; I don't know what to make of him."
"I think he's a lot like me." Ann grinned. "Whether we are father and daughter or not."
"Get up here, you two," Kyle's voice said. They looked to see the knight, along with Owen and the captured Marcus, already on the wagon. "We can talk when we're not in the middle of a hundred enemy soldiers."
They started for the vehicle. Ann made to climb up first, but stopped with a pang of agony in her chest. Kyle reached down to help her up. In that moment, Marcus acted. He threw himself back, knocking Owen down in the instant his sword wavered from his neck. Rolled right, came up with his ropes cut by some sharp instrument he must have worked free while bound. On his side, Owen punched awkwardly at him with his hilt. In one motion Marcus blocked and pushed his arm back, bringing the edge of his own sword against his throat.
"Now who has a hostage?"
Mark and friends froze, within arm's reach of Marcus but unable to move. Behind them, Gerrard sat equally helpless. Fast as he and a healthy Ann might be, they could not beat a blade within hairs of Owen's neck.
"Now I suggest you throw down your weapons and surrender before my hand slips."
"Don't do it!" Ann said. "We can't expect to live if we're captured here."
"She is correct," Kyle grimly added. "Against another we might surrender, but this cruel man will not give us a second chance. After all, he needs only your father and not you."
"But it's my father! We can't just throw away his life."
"Even if you are selfish enough to sacrifice him," Marcus sneered, backing out of the wagon, "I am no longer at your mercy. What are your chances of catching me again before you are overwhelmed?
"Do you regret opposing me yet?"
"You won't kill him," Ann said in a firm tone. "There's no chance Mark and his family will cooperate with you if you do, and you still want to win too much to throw the game away like that. Besides, are you really ready to let all these people watch you add to your long list of crimes?"
Before Mark could stop her she charged, sword thrust out before her. Marcus pressed the edge of his blade to Owen's skin, then hesitated when he realized she would not stop. Instead he shoved Owen towards her, trying to force a change in her course. But her reflexes were hampered by her wounds, and proved not quite fast enough. As she tried too slowly to step aside, her sword pierced Owen's side. He gasped and fell.
"No!" Mark cried, glaring at Ann while she caught his father in her arms. She had been right about Marcus bluffing, but reacted in overly rash manner anyway. How bad was Owen's wound? His eyes were closed, and his face already turning white...
Marcus too stared in surprise, but quickly regained his arrogant demeanor. "Well, you managed to rescue him—in a way. But I'm still free, and you soon won't be. What are you waiting for, men? Get them!"
The Arrith guards closed in. "Wait," Mark begged, "we have evidence of his crimes," but under orders from their Duke they did not seem inclined to listen.
The closest of the enemy yet, Marcus drew a forked twig and broke it for unknown reasons before he pounced at the kneeling Ann. He threw a wicked cut at her neck, but even now she had enough left to parr
y and push his sword aside with a roll of her wrist before stabbing at his chest. He leaned back, her blow glancing from his cuirass.
Kyle threw his sword. Hitting Marcus in the shoulder, the huge blade nearly severed his arm. He fell backward, screaming in anguish as blood spurted between his fingers, and Ann's sword again menaced his throat.
"Kind of brave on your part," she said, "but a bad mistake. Now don't you move again, or this time I will kill you."
Chapter 16
They rode away from Arrith, Marcus tightly bound after being searched with care and relieved of three other hidden weapons. A number of guards pursued them out the city gates, but fell back after being unable to find a chance to rescue their captive. Owen reassured Mark he would be all right when he could, but was rarely coherent and still bled from his wrapped wound. For once, Ann's mouth remained shut. She gazed at Mark as if looking for him to announce his forgiveness, but with his father's survival uncertain he had no words ready for her.
"You should forgive her," Kyle said aloud after some time. "I had thought to do the same, but she was faster."
"Yeah, well, it's not your father. Tell me you'd do the same if it was."
Kyle shrugged. "I have not been in the situation, but I hope I would."
Such assured warriors, certain their method was right. Even if Ann seemed guilty over Owen's injury, Mark doubted she would have acted much differently given a second chance. Would they still be so confident, if for once their aggressive approach proved completely counterproductive? Perhaps there was something they could learn from Mark, at least in terms of considering a broader range of choices beyond immediate action.
"It was my fault," Ann whispered. "I should have let Kyle do it, or someone else who wasn't horribly wounded."
Then again, maybe he should not be too harsh on her. There was no guarantee any carefully weighed decision of his would have seen better results or even worse ones, either.
The sky darkened as they traveled, and thunder split the heavens. "I will not lose," Marcus kept saying while they ignored him. Blood soaked through the bandages at his shoulder, reluctantly treated by the friends against persistent urges to kill him instead. He was quite pale, and barely conscious half the time, but still did not seem ready to accept defeat. "I will not lose!"
