November 7th 1,000
Night lay heavy on the land. Tink sighed, her arms already aching. She clung to Mila's shoulders, trying to keep her from hitting the stone floor. Aza held her legs.
"There's no way this is going to work,"
Dill whispered. He peeked around the sharp corner of the long hall.
"There are three guards ahead of us and who knows how many more to come. We only have two weapons between us all."
Mari glared at him. In her open palm was a small puddle of water.
"Four."
Wisp crouched beside Tink. The stones felt cold to his unshod feet.
"What are we going to do now? There could be hundreds of soldiers once we get outside, if we get that far."
She glanced at him. Her eyes full. Lashes wet.
"We have to try,"
she murmured.
Both stared at Mila, she had no idea what choice they had just made. Oblivious to it all, her body had shut down to heal.
"Alright. On three we charge and get as far as we can. The goal is to not get captured and taken back,"
Wisp said. Dill and Orange nodded. Aza shuddered but said she understood. Mari said nothing. She flicked her wrist and gathered a large ball of water.
"It rained last night,"
she said. Her chin stuck out, long black hair almost in her eyes. Wisp glanced at each person in turn. Dill's forehead had pucker lines, a frown on his face. He had the dagger. Next to him was Orange, the young man, hardly seventeen. Mari crouched beside him. Her ball of water was already formed into ice daggers. Aza held Mila. Her fair blond hair was greasy from long imprisonment. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and glimmer. Tink nodded. It was time.
"Go,"
she whispered. Wisp lunged forward, the sword held up.
"Prisoners!"
a man yelled. Wisp ducked under one man's upper-swing. He brought his down then to the side. It stuck through the enemy's stomach. He waited not to see if the man was dead. Two guards left. Both armed with two blades each. The thick, stomach turning smell of blood filled the hallway. Wisp gulped then held ready with sword.
"Duck!"
Mari yelled behind. He complied. Ice whistled over his head. He could feel a rush of cold. Three daggers embedded themselves in the guard's throat. The other got one dagger through the eye.
"Come on! Move Mila,"
Wisp yelled. Voices echoed in the courtyard outside. The alarm was being raised.
"My group, let's hurry. We'll be able to hold out better if we're in the doorway."
He nodded to Tink. She mustered a forced smile.
"I'll be glad to be out in the open,"
Mari whispered. She drew more water to her hands. Wisp stared out the tiny window in the door.
"This is it. There are at least fifty men out there. Probably more in my blind spots. I can see so little."
Dill nodded.
"Think the folks looking for Mila could possibly be here in time to help get her out?"
he asked. Wisp shrugged.
"I doubt it. Who would guess that we were taken prisoner here?"
Mari formed the water into a hard block of ice. It was the color of a fresh apple just plucked.
"I want it to be a cheerful color,"
she whispered. Five men headed to the door. Each leaned toward the other, mouths moving.
"Here they come. Ready?"
Nods. Wisp thrust open the heavy double doors of brown wood. Cool air whished through the small hallway. A chunk of ice whizzed by his head. Dill stood beside him. dagger held up.
"Halt!"
one man yelled. The enemy slowed. Wisp smiled at them.
"Fine night, isn't it. Those bonfires must keep you folks right toasty,"
he said. Dill chuckled. Wisp grinned.
"We've less than your men but we have something they don't got,"
Wisp said.
"There ain't nothing left to lose."
The man stepped backward. Fear flashed like lightening over his features. Wisp leaped forward. He thrust the sword outward and in. Dill sprang up beside him accounting for another man. Mari felled the third. Those in the courtyard rushed forward. They swarmed like bees on a bear. Wisp slipped. He collapsed under sheer weight of those crushing inward to kill him and his companions.
"Help them! Mila must be with them,"
a female voice rang out over the sounds of clashing. Wisp gagged under his captor. The smell of unwashed men and the heavy odor of blood filled his brain until it drove out all other thought. His sight fragmented like a glass dish dropped onto tile. Fresh air came. He gulped it in without thinking of it. He closed his eyes, breathe. In. Out. His lungs ached from the sudden influx of chilled air.
"Still breathing. We made it in time. How did you know of this?"
a male voice said overhead. Wisp tried to see who it was but his lids seemed stitched shut.
"He told me, then I escaped. Is there anywhere that I can take them to heal?"
a female asked. It was the same as the female who had called out before. Her voice was strong.
"New Kintin, the folks left it empty but nobody has tried to ransack it yet. I put a group of soldiers up there to protect it for our wounded."
Wisp tried to stay alive. He could feel his heart thumping slow. It skipped a beat then resumed. The skips were getting closer together. Sleep. He needed rest. Rest would keep his heart happier.
"I think just those two survived,"
the female said. He struggled to comprehend what she spoke.
"I'll ride with those two. They need help the mos...."
the woman's voice faded. His ears rang and through closed lids he saw red. Blood. If he could just... was this sight sleeping or waking?
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