Chapter 19

“What have you done!?” Izzie gasped when she entered the town centre, guards holding back the crowds of villagers, as she stared up at Drystan, Dermot, Iagan, Jarred and Brandon held captive on the wooden stage erected in the middle of the square.

Where was Thomas?

Surely her eyes deceived her; Drystan and the others could not be about to be put to death.

Her mind flashed back to the villages she and the others had gone through after Colt had visited them. Innocents nailed to crosses, women raped and children gutted from naval to nose.

Rage erupted in her heart as she thought about the thing she had done for Colt; she had killed her own father.

“You made it!” Colt exclaimed as he saw the Prince, running down from his throne and embracing the young heir, “I grew fearful that you would miss such beauty,” he chuckled, waving his arm out as his guards gathered the first person to be nailed; Iagan.

“Colt!” Izzie stepped forward; she was still his second in command; surely she held some sway, “I would ask you to pause and break words . . . who are these men?” she shared a look with Drystan, hoping he understood what she was trying to do.

“My dear, Izzie,” Colt wrapped his arm around her shoulder and turned her to face the men completely, “Surely you haven’t forgotten your own merry men just yet and how you undermined my men,”

Izzie gritted her teeth; this was a test, she realised.

If she let them die then she would prove that she was with Colt but she couldn’t let them fall; even if it was for the greater good although she saw no good in them dying.

They had started out as acquaintances but it had grown into something more; Iagan had almost saved her life; she had protected Thomas and a bond had grown between them all.

“What would you have me do? Nail them to the crosses myself,” She growled over her shoulder at Colt and the Prince who just stood smiling; she still did not know his name.

“No, of course not!” Colt stepped around and addressed his new people, “I would have games! Our men grow weary and their spirits need lifting!”

Izzie raised her head and braced her shoulders; she would fight the devil himself to free them.

“Bring him out!” Colt roared and a door flung open to reveal Brother Thomas being shoved into the square; a sword thrown to his feet.

“Isadora? What- What is happening?” Thomas squinted against the bright light of the sun.

“Have you lost mind!?” Izzie snapped at Colt, “He is a God-fearing man and has never handled a weapon in his life!”

“Then it will be a simple fight for one with skills such as yours,” Colt growled at her as he took a sword off the guard and shoved it into her chest, “Now . . . kill him and see your friends freed.”

Izzie looked down at the sword gripped in her palm; it was nothing extravagant but sharp to the point, before looking over her shoulder at Thomas who was still turning in circles, trying to figure out what was happening.

Gazing up at the others, good noble warriors, with their hands bound as they waited to be killed Izzie knew what she had to do.

One life to save five and countless others that they would saved in their years to come.

Turning back to face Thomas, ignoring the pleading look on Drystan’s face, she threw off her jacket and belts until she was clad only in her tight leather trousers, knee high boots and a metal-embroidered breast plates over a thin black top, revealing her toned arms, mid-riff and ribs.

Cheers erupted from the crowds, fuelling her mood, as she swung the sword around in her hand and stood opposite Thomas.

“Pick it up,” she ordered the young man draped from neck to foot in a thick rob which would surely slow him down; adding advantage once again.

“I shall not draw swords against a woman!” Thomas shouted.

“Pick . . . it . . . up,” Izzie stepped forward and wrapped her hand around his collar, her eyes searching his, “Or die where you stand,” she hoped he saw the urgency in her eyes because she stepped back and he picked the sword up in both hand; the metal trembling as it pointed it at her.

The guards and crowds jeered at seeing their first game in their kingdom.

* * *

“EEEYAH!” Izzie grunted as she swung her arm and brought her sword down upon his head only to have him duck and run out of the way of her strike.

“KILL HIM!”

“RIP HIS HEAD OFF!”

Izzie tried to block out the sound of the bloodthirsty crowds in fear that she would lose herself in the moment and do just that; she had to control herself that she didn’t go all out and kill him in one blow.

Thomas was looking scared as he bled from cuts to his face and sweat drenched his cloak.

Drystan and the others simply stood watching; they had tried screaming at her already and it had not prevailed; she just hoped they would forgive her afterwards.

“AAH!” Izzie hissed as dropped to one knee and swung her sword at his shins.

Thomas jumped and stumbled backwards, catching the bottom of his cloak as he staggered and fell to his back; small squeaks leaving his lips as he raised his arms in defence.

“Get up!” Izzie growled as she reached down and gripped the cloth around his neck, bringing him to his feet, “You worthless, miserable piece of shit!”

“My Lord in heaven, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of-”

“-Quit your praying!” Izzie sighed in exasperation as she turned and booted him in the chest, “God has no place here!”

“FINISH HIM!”

Their swords clashed as he made weak, feeble movements to protect his body whilst Izzie, evermore, pushed him back towards the throne where Colt and the Prince were sitting.

Her sword swiped air as he ducked another hit.

Jumping off the ground, she twisted in the air and booted him around the face, blood dripping from his mouth, as he fell to the stairs at Colt’s feet.

Landing in front of him, Thomas stayed where he landed and gazed up at her with watering eyes and the look of fear imbedded in them.

“Stand up,” Izzie ordered him but he did not pay heed; his just shook his head and threw his sword to the ground, surrendering.

“Stand up!” She shouted; if he surrendered then her plan was going to fail.

Reaching for his neck, she brought him to his feet and dragged him up onto the stage.

Standing in front of the crowds, Thomas’s back to her chest as she placed her sword at his throat; the crowds cheering her on.

“Do you want blood!?” Izzie screamed at the crowds; Colt and the Prince smiling up at her.

Her teeth gritted and she blinked as memories of killing her father flashed behind her eyelids.

Oh God, she had been so stupid to follow Colt. What had she been thinking!? She was supposed to kill Colt; not her own father!

Colt had been the one to ruin her life.

“Then you shall have it!” Izzie screamed, Thomas shuddering in her arms as he faced death but just as she pretended to begin to slit his throat she spun around and shoved her blade in Colt’s chest.

Izzie chuckled at the look of surprise on Colt’s face as his blood dripped down her blade and onto her hand.

Twisting the blade in further; blood pouring from Colt’ mouth, “This is for my mother,” she pulled the blade out and stabbed him again, “And my sister,” she turned the sword in his chest, “And for my father.”

Colt’s body slumped lifeless as she stood up, breathing hard and faced the crowds which had gone deadly silent upon her actions.

Blood stained her skin, her dark hair blew out in the soft wind around her and sweat clung to her skin.

“Free them,” she growled at the guards by Drystan and the others and watched as their bounds were broken and they stared across at her.

Sharing a look with Drystan, he nodded his head at her, and she turned back to Thomas, crouched on the floor and looking up at her with fear and confusion.

And when she looked out at the guards she realised that they were all looking at her for something.

But she didn’t know what for when she realised that she had just killed Colt; their leader.

They were looking for orders.