Emilio's warning makes me turn around, and the sword aimed at the back of my neck hits my iron clad shoulder. It still hurts, and almost sends me tumbling to the floor. I quickly regain my balance, but by then the sword is swishing through the air again.

My hand, still partly numbed by the first blow, fails to rise fast enough to parry the second one. Sharp steel connects with my forearm with a loud screeching sound, and cuts through the metal and the leather, reaching the flesh underneath.

I growl in pain and stumble back. If not for the armor, I would have lost my arm, but still, this is not good. My fighting hand is wounded—and it's Sagaristio who's attacking me. That hurts as much as the physical wound.

I dodge another blow, the pain keeping me alert, and transfer the sword to my left hand from my numbed right one. I've been taught to fight with it as well, but it's less comfortable. The whole situation is not ideal—my bulky armor is good for a battlefield, not a small room, and the semidarkness makes it harder to judge the opponent's intentions.

The opponent being Sagaristio. I still can't wrap my mind around that.

His blade crushes on mine, and this time, I'm able to throw him back while holding my ground. He moves to the side, and I shift, too, facing him. Perhaps I should lure him outside, where there's more space for maneuvers. He seems to have come alone, since no one has joined us yet. Outside, the guards from the upper floor will hear us and go down to investigate. Yet if they do, will they be on my side? Now that Sagaristio has turned against me, how could I possibly trust anyone?

"Traitor!" I growl at him as our blades clash again.

The force of the impact almost extinguishes the only torch in the room. Its fire dances wildly before settling down again. We push away from each other. Behind him, I can see Emilio cowering in the corner, his hands over his mouth, watching us with shock.

"How long have you been planning this?" I hiss as we circle each other, clutching our weapons, looking for an opportunity to strike. The leather bindings between the plates of his armor can provide a few week spots, not to mention the unprotected face and the neck, but reaching them won't be easy. "Did you plot together with Messenio?"

"Sure," he spits. "His royal blood and my brains, we could have ruled better than a dozen of you. Only he was too hot-headed to wait for the right moment."

He lunges out at me, but I slap his blade aside with mine, and we're back at circling each other.

"Can't you see you're a bad king?" He jerks his head to get his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Usually calm and thoughtful, they now blaze at me with open animosity. "You've pissed out every single kingdom in the realm! You've raised their taxes to the sky, butchering the cow instead of milking it for years to come! Told you to take it easy on them, but do you ever listen? And here they are, on our shores, and who could blame them?"

"But now," I say, panting, "what do you gain from attacking me?"

"If you're dead, they'll make me the governor. They'll need someone from here... someone people will accept... someone smart enough to cooperate with them. Bawdrick talked to me the last time." He swallows hard, his steps slowing a bit. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, Harpax. I hoped you'd start seeing sense. I never wanted to harm you. You've brought this on yourself."

"People won't accept you." I thrust, aiming at his neck, but he parries easily. My damn left hand just isn't fast enough. I'm getting tired, too. "There's no royal blood in you."

"With the king dead, I'm the second-best thing."

"My people won't follow a king-slayer."

"I'm no king-slayer." He nods briefly at Emilio. "He is."

"What?"

I throw a quick glance at Emilio, still frozen in the corner.

"You went downstairs to speak to the prisoner, but he's stabbed you with this." With his free hand, he points at the dagger on his belt. "Killed the guard, too. Then, he escaped." He glances at Emilio. "Go now! Go to Bawdrick and be careful to tell him the right story. You'll get the credit for killing the king, while I'll rip the fruits of his death." He grins, chillingly confident in his victory. "Get out now!"

Keeping my eyes on Sagaristio, I can hear rather than see Emilio getting up. Even through the confusion and the rage that're consuming me, it stings me—this one additional betrayal. There's no reason to expect of him to decline Sagaristio's proposition which so clearly benefits them both, yet it still hurts, him accepting it so easily.

Well, he's a whore—he knows a good bargain when he sees it.

On his feet now, he bends in a deep, humble bow.

"Yes, your Grace," he mutters. "Thank you so much, your Grace."

Then, he lunges forward, throwing himself at Sagaristio's legs.

Sagaristio's eyes go wide in shock and his hands fly up to keep his balance. Yet it's too late. His knees buckle and he falls back, over Emilio's crouched body. Even with all the noise of the metal hitting the floor, I can hear the crack as the back of his head connects with the stones.

I don't wait to find out if it's knocked him out or broke his neck or has done no real damage. This opportunity is too precious to lose, and I move swiftly, following the falling body. Even as it settles on the floor, I thrust the sharp edge of my sword into the exposed throat.

It goes all the way through, its tip hitting the stones underneath, spraying them with blood. A thick, dark puddle starts spreading on the floor.

There's a moment of silence, broken only by the gurgling sounds coming from the dying man. I stand over him, looking down, thinking about how I have no more friends to betray me.

I don't even feel anything about it anymore.

I grab Emilio by the back of his shirt, pull him up to his feet and push him towards the door.

It feels like a blur as we run down the corridor and up the stairs, and then we burst out into the sunshine. There're voices, some of them calling my name, and the neighing of horses, and the distant battle cries and cannon blows and the smell of smoke and sea and gunpowder in the air. It feels as if we've just emerged from under water and everything is too loud and too bright.

I rush towards the nearest stone railing facing the harbor, impatient to see how the fight has progressed in my absence. I hit the stone fence with force, my eyes still not fully adjusted to the daylight, and stand there for a moment, catching my breath, trying to process what I see. My heart stops briefly as I gaze in open-mouthed disbelief at the view before me, partly obscured by black clouds of smoke.

The city is on fire.

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* Three chapters left until the end! *

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