Chapter 49
One of our men's face appeared.
"We misjudged their numbers," he said quickly. "More soldiers are advancing, fast. You must flee north into the forest. The path is rough, but there is no other way. You shall come upon a river, and our men will be waiting there. Go. At once."
Without waiting for a reply, he vanished.
Sister Alethea and I rose in haste. Below us, our escorts battled fiercely with two soldiers. In the distance, more figures broke over the hill, fast approaching. My knees weakened at the sight. Sister Alethea leapt down from the cart and turned to help me. Her hand caught mine and clutched it tightly as she pulled me from the wagon.
"We must run," she said urgently. "Mind your steps."
And so we fled. We ran through trees, over gnarled roots, and past tall grasses. My heart pounded louder than the battle behind us. The ribbon that had held Sister Alethea's hair vanished in the wind. Her long blue locks now streamed freely behind her as she ran. I clung to her hand with all the strength I had left.
Just as I believed we had put a safe distance behind us, a voice roared from behind.
"Halt, or I shall shoot!"
"Go!" Sister Alethea cried, thrusting me forward with both hands. "Run!"
A sharp hiss split the air. Then came her voice, contorted in pain.
I stopped and turned at once.
She lay upon the earth. An arrow had torn clean through her back and emerged from her chest, the steel tip glistening red. A pool of blood spread beneath her.
I could not move.
This was not real. It could not be. It was a dream. Another cruel dream, like the ones that so often came to haunt my nights.
"Go…" she whispered faintly, lifting a trembling hand as though to wave me on. Her eyes were closed. Her skin had turned ashen.
Just a dream.
"Lady Naevia," came the voice of the soldier, drawing near, his bow now slung across his chest. "You are to return to the palace with me."
Sister Alethea's eyes flew open. With sudden force, she grabbed a handful of dirt and hurled it into his face. He staggered back, falling to the ground, blinded.
"Go, my dearest friend… be brave…" she breathed, a smile upon her lips. "Run."
And then she closed her eyes. Her body fell still.
"No," I gasped, dropping to my knees beside her. "It is only a dream…"
I shook her with trembling hands, again and again.
"Just a dream."
I placed my fingers beneath her nose, desperate for the soft warmth of breath. But there was so breath.
"Just a dream," I tried to convince myself.
My gaze snapped to the soldier. He was still blinded with dirt. I drew Sir Lorcan's dagger from its sheath and lunged, piercing his throat with the blade. He gasped, blood spurting across his collar. I withdrew the dagger and struck again, in the very same place.
"Just a dream," I whispered, my voice trembling as I drove the dagger deep into his chest.
Again. And again. My raw sobs broke free. I stabbed him once more, then again. I tore into his chest, his neck, his face, wherever my blade could find purchase. Warm blood splashed across my hands, my cloak, my nightgown.
"Give her back to me," I cried out. "Give my sister back!"
I screamed then, a sound torn from somewhere deep within me, where grief had curdled into rage.
"Die!" I roared, striking again.
My sobs grew quieter, but my tears poured faster, streaking down my face like rain. The world dissolved into a blur of red and sorrow.
"Die! Die!"
Still, I did not stop.
"How very shameful," a man remarked from a distance, halting my hand mid-strike. His steps drew near. Others followed behind him.
Soldiers.
"To fall by a woman's blade," he continued with a sigh. "Take his body. And the woman's as well."
Then his gaze turned to me.
"Lady Naevia, you must come with us."
One of them moved toward Sister Alethea. My already boiling rage surged into flame. I hurled the dagger at him with all the strength my arm could muster. It flew awkwardly, shamefully so, landing far from its mark. I rushed forward and struck him with my hands, though he barely shifted from the blow. I dropped to my knees and pulled Sister Alethea into my arms, cradling her lifeless form.
"Stay the fuck back," I snarled, the word foreign on my tongue, but no other would do. My eyes locked upon his with a fury that burned.