Chapter 29: Pieces

The earth rumbled, and the fifty horsemen closed in on them. Their armor was black, enough so that the sun didn’t seem to touch it. Patrick turned to Prince Saerith, and made their final plans. Patrick was now certain he was going to die.

“All that matters,” Patrick said. “Is that Sehn and the children make it out alive. We need to try and distract them for as long as we’re able, during which Cah’lia will lead them away.”

Saerith nodded. “I agree, though I must admit I was hoping to continue living a little longer. Ah well,” he said drawing his weapon. “That woman, Cah’lia, she is strong. She’ll find a way to do what must be done. I have faith in her.”

Rillith and Daniel had their swords drawn as well. Facing such assured death, all formality had gone out of the window, and so Patrick decided to make his last moments with the prince personal. “There was one thing you didn’t lie to Sehn about,” Patrick said. “Of that I’m sure.”

“Oh? And what is that, my good…no, my Human-buddy, as Sehn would call you. What good does formality do us now?”

Patrick barked a laugh, a powerful guffaw in the face of death. “Your point is taken, Saerith, well said. As for the thing you lied about, well, you really do love the girl, don’t you? I know now that you’d never snatch her away from him, perhaps not even after he dies. But, that doesn’t change the way you feel, does it?”

At first the prince looked shocked at the accusation, his face lighting up in outrage, but then he looked on at the grass being flattened from the horses closing in on them, he only smiled. “It’s true, Patrick. What good does lying about it do me now? Cah’lia is the most beautiful, wonderful, and kind woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Yet, despite her kindness she is strong, bold, and adventurous. I’d cut my heart out and give it to her if she asked. Though, I have a feeling these men are about to take it.”

Ignoring all formality, Patrick clasped a hand on his shoulder. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Two of the most powerful men in the world, gathered in the most beautiful place in the world, about to die for the noblest cause in the world.”

Saerith laughed, and gave Patrick a pat on the back. “Indeed,” he said. “The things men must do for their people.”

Cah’lia had led Sehn, Nero, and Rina, behind a hot spring not far behind them. The steam and rocks in the area would keep them hidden, and Patrick was sure Cah’lia knew what she’d risk if she allowed Sehn to die.

Princess Saerina seemed unworried, polishing her finger nails and even tilting her head back to yawn. “Your sister seems at ease,” Patrick said. “I wonder why.”

The prince shrugged. “She’s always been an odd one, my sister, but I know for certain she doesn’t fear death. This is how I’d expect her to act.”

“She’s got courage, she does,” Rillith said. He too had only the smallest glint of fear in his eyes, prepared to die to save his world. Daniel nodded, and smiled at her.

Saerina spoke—it was the first words she’d said in some time. “Who needs courage, when we aren’t going to die?”

Daniel glared at her. “Now is not the time to give us false hope, princess. Do you see what comes towards us? We’re as good as dead.”

Saerina shrugged, and continued to polish her nails. The rumbling grew louder, and pretty soon Patrick was able to make out their individual faces. They were a disgusting lot, with decaying teeth and unkempt hair. All except the leader riding up front, he held a certain charismatic charm. He had neat brown hair, and a boyish face with fair skin. His body was muscular, and hanging around his neck and over his black armor—almost difficult to see through the contrasting darkness—was a ruby pendant.

The men pulled up, and surrounded them. No matter what happened, no matter what devilish tortures they were put through, it was agreed that no one would leak any information, neither about Sehn’s presence among them, nor Patrick, Saerina, and Saerith’s nobility.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The leader asked dismounting. He removed his head-gear and held it under his arms. All fifty of his men followed, causing a loud banging sound as dozens of armored feet hit the ground at once.

Rillith stepped forward. “We are just travelers, my Lord, passing through Kingdom land in search of fortune. We mean you and yours no trouble, and hope only to pass in peace.”

“Peace?” the man asked. He looked confused, like he’d never heard the word before. “That’s interesting, if not a little expected. I take it you’re the leader, then?”

They had all agreed that Rillith was to play the role of the leader, in an attempt to divert any possible suspicion as to Patrick’s true nature. Even if they didn’t know about Sehn’s presence among them, the wretched man that led the army would surely take notice of an Elven and Human prince traveling together, and perhaps start to wonder. No, that would not be good.

“Aye, sir, I lead this small group. We are on our way to the city of Hahl, and mean you no harm.” Rillith spoke slowly, with a very quiet voice, often being asked to repeat things. Patrick knew without a doubt they were going to be slaughtered and looted, and it was torture to prolong the inevitable, but he needed to buy Cah’lia as much time as he could. Every minute or so steam would rise from a big puff of smoke from the hot springs. During that time, Cah’lia would lead Sehn and the children to a boulder or something to hide behind a little farther out. It was slow, but it was the only safe way of traveling.

“I think he be telling the truths, I do,” said one of the soldiers closest to their leader. The soldiers were now spread out in a circle around Patrick’s group. They were completely surrounded, buried between a sea of black-armored men. Patrick hoped they wouldn’t be tortured.

Princess Saerina stepped forward, and began to pace around the circle of men, receiving questioning glances not just from the soldiers, but from Patrick’s men and Prince Saerith. “Sister,” Saerith hissed. “What are you doing?”

She paced around the circle once, and then paused when she’d come to the point she started, behind Patrick. She walked up to the closest soldier, and ran a seductive finger down his armor. “Well now, look at me, boys!” the soldier cheered. “I told you lots I was popular with the lady-folk. Ain’t this the hottest Elven wench you ever seen?”

The other soldiers all cheered, and the leader seemed unconcerned. “Does she wish to whore herself in return for her life? I’ve no problem with that, if such is the case. As long as she understands that the needs of Lelinas comes first.”

Without turning, Saerina spoke to the leader behind her, situated in front of Patrick. She did not take her eyes off the solider she’d been staring at. “Lelinas is your name?” she asked. “Good to know.”

She continued to run a finger along the solider, the man’s eyes filling with lust. Then she began to hum. “Oh poor creature born in strife, thou throat has come, to meet thy knife. May you wed death, make her thine wife, and find in her, what you couldn’t in life.”

There was laughter from all around, several of the men even stopping to applaud. “Beautifully spoken,” their leader, Lelinas said clapping. “You, Rillith, is this woman mad?”

Rillith looked around, not knowing how to answer. Patrick whispered into Saerith’s ear. “What in the gods is your sister doing?”

“I’ve no idea,” Saerith whispered back, “by my best guess she’s pretending to be mad to stall for time, perhaps entertain them.”

Of course, Patrick thought to himself. That makes perfect sense, what a brilliant tactic.

Saerina went to the next man in the group, and then the one after that, each time repeating out loud the same phrase. “Oh poor creature born in strife, thou throat has come, to meet thy knife. May you wed death, make her thine wife, and find in her, what you couldn’t in life.”

When she arrived at one soldier, now to the left of Patrick and a quarter-way through the circle of men, he shouted at her. “How about you take some of those fancy clothes off, my Elven sweetie?”

Saerina looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “If that is what you’d like, then sure.”

Even Patrick gasped, when she dropped her garments to stand before all of them naked. Saerith’s jaw dropped. “Sister, are you nuts!” he looked at Patrick. “Maybe she has gone mad.” All around the soldiers began cheering, throwing their arms up and howling in victory and applause.

Saerina spoke to the solider, her eyes mixed with sadness and comfort. “If this is what you wish to see, then how could I refuse? It’s the least I can do, considering what I am taking from you. Oh poor creature born in strife, thou throat has come, to meet thy knife. May you wed death, make her thine wife, and find in her, what you couldn’t in life.”

She made her way to the front of the circle, naked as the day she was born. “How about a kiss, baby?” he asked. Again she surprised them all, pulling the man in and kissing him with passion on the lips. Patrick didn’t know what to think at this point. He knew they needed to stall for time, but this was too much indignity, even Saerith seemed to agree. The poor man looked to be dancing on his feet with impatience.

Finally, Saerina completed the circle, having spoken to each one of the men. She came to stand beside Patrick’s group, and raised her voice for all to hear. “I have wished all of you the best, and I have prayed that you may all have safe passage to whatever lies next. Know that I offer you my humblest apologies.”

They all began to laugh again. “She’s gone mad!” one shouted. “The sexiest madwoman I’ve ever seen, though,” another cheered.

Lelinas clapped his hands twice, and in an instant all fell silent. “Boys, we’ve had our fun, but now it’s really time to be killing this lot and moving on. Sorry dear, I was kidding about taking you as a slave. We’re not permitted such luxuries.”

There were groans from around the circle, the soldiers all moaning in protest. “Now, now,” Lelinas said holding out a silencing hand. “I’ll still let you have your fun with her before you kill her, but there will be no survivors, understood?”

The cheers resumed, and the men draw their swords. “Wait!” Saerina shouted, command in her voice. “There’s one more thing I want to show you.”

They all paused to look at the naked Elven woman, even Lelinas. “I have one last thing to say to you all. When death asks you if I was fair, please remember to tell her that I gave you my most heartfelt words of parting, understand?”

They all looked around and laughed, in what Patrick assumed to be mockery of the woman they presumed mad. Princess Saerina raised her left hand above her head, and tilted her head to the sky. In a thunderous voice that rivaled any Patrick had ever heard, Saerina opened her mouth and screamed into the cloudless sky. “SELLOS RAHL!”

It happened too fast, far too fast for Patrick to follow. One moment the princess was shouting her spell, the one she’d used to cut down the tree in the Jinkar forests, and the next Patrick was seeing red, his eyes covered in blood.

Did I die? Patrick wondered.

He wiped his face to clear his vision, and realized the blood was not his own. There were pained cries shouted from men all around him, their bodies were being split in half at various locations. A one-eyed man in front of Patrick seemed to explode from the inside, his stomach ripping apart from the center, emptying out his guts and intestines.

Rillith, Daniel, even Saerith, all looked on in astonishment as, one after the other, in what seemed to be five at a time, men’s lives were extinguished before them. It was disgusting, it was gruesome. It was something from the darkest nightmare, in the deepest corners of imagination.

It only took a few moments for the soldiers to catch on, and they looked around with pleading eyes, wondering which five would be next. Every two seconds another batch died. “Please!” one of the soldiers yelled at Saerina. “Please, stop this!”

“Oh poor creature born in strife, thou throat has come, to meet thy knife. May you wed death, make her thine wife, and find in her, what you couldn’t in life.”

The man’s face was ripped in two, dark red clumps of matter that Patrick hoped weren’t brains spilled from a hole in his face that only a single moment before housed his eyes. The screams only lasted a few moments, for only twenty seconds after the spell had been cast all were dead but Lelinas, standing in disbelief in the middle. The horses reared and ran away, not wishing to share the same fate as those that once had ridden them.

“W-what was that?” he panted. “My men, what have you done to my men?”

Only Saerina spoke, and Patrick suspected that Rillith, Daniel, and Saerith were too shocked to form words. If Saerina’s own brother could not believe what he’d seen, then it was truly something spectacular, yet awful.

Saerina walked away for a moment, picking her fancy clothing off of the ground, and dressing herself. She was now the only one not covered in blood. “So that’s why she did it,” Saerith gasped. “Look at us.”

With all the carnage that had just taken place, Patrick ignored something as trivial as bloodied clothing. Now that it had ended, he realized they were covered in it, drenched even. Patrick’s blue silk shirt was dyed a dark red.

“Do not stand there like idiots,” she commanded. “Brother, capture that man and blindfold him. We have many questions to ask him, and from this point forward he is allowed to see nothing, for obvious reasons. Patrick, if you would please find our Elven friend—whom I ask you to take care not to name—and make sure that he doesn’t return until this place has been cleaned up. I know what lies in his heart, and he is not ready to see this bloodshed. He may act like a brute sometimes, and he may even believe himself to be one. Yet, try and remember his upbringing. Never has he seen death like this. I wish to spare both him and the children from the sight of such overwhelming violence. Well, what are you standing around for? Go!”

Patrick didn’t even care that the princess of a foreign nation had just commanded him. After what Patrick had just seen the woman do, if she commanded him to lick her boot clean then he’d ask her which one.