Chapter 26
Cai
My horse was uneasy beneath me.
She refused to stand still, ears pulled back, huffing out cold air. Perhaps she sensed the bloodbath that was to come, the clashing of swords and dead soldiers coating the floors of Mistwood.
It was in the early hours of the morning and the sun had yet to rise.
The air was deathly quiet, almost as if in expectation.
We were a few hundred men outside the palace walls. The air was filled with mist, concealing us from any possible watchmen on the palace towers. Luck might have just been on our side.
Never in my life had I imagined I would have to break into my own palace. To attempt to win back the home I’d grown up in. The palace I was born to rule from. I dismounted and gave the mare a small pat on the neck.
“Are you all right, Your Majesty?” Alastor was by my side, multiple weapons in hand and strapped to his body.
“I’m not sure,” I confessed. “Am I wrong to wish that it hadn’t come to this?”
“Of course not, Your Majesty. I believe all of us wish the same.”
I looked to the soldiers standing behind us, as far as the mist would allow me to see. They were all here for my kingdom’s sake. Because they believed that I could lead them to something better.
As if sensing my worry, Elara jumped off her horse and stepped up next to me. She took my hand in hers.
“I’d rather you stay behind,” I told her. “But I know you well enough to know there’s no chance of that happening.”
She gave me half a smile. “I’ll be fine. And besides, Rhen has my back.”
“It’s time, Your Majesty,” Alastor said. I gave a nod and unsheathed my knife.
We crept towards the palace courtyard through the mist. The process was achingly slow as we tried not to make a sound, but we wanted the element of surprise to avoid suffering damage from the archers in the towers.
We would not all go at once but instead sneak into the palace, using the darkness to our advantage until we were too many for them to fight off.
There were a few guards in the courtyard, as could be expected.
Alastor went up behind one, soft as a mouse, and I held a breath as he sliced the man’s neck open, blood spilling onto his Argonian armour.
It was done quietly, but enough noise was made to cause the Argonian closest to me to look over, ready to inspect the source of the scuffle.
I didn’t give him the chance before impaling him through the chest. He gasped in surprise, falling forward.
One by one, we picked off the guards in the courtyard, hiding in the shadows and moving with quiet coordination.
I kept close to the walls until I reached the window of the study on the lower floor. The latch had been broken for as long as I could remember, and I’d never got round to telling anyone to fix it. I could not have expected it would come in handy much later.
I jammed my knife between the window and frame and moved the hilt. It opened with relative ease, but the cold weather and rain caused it to creak, and I flinched, grabbing the wooden frame.
I looked around to see if there were any movements out of the ordinary, anyone possibly approaching me. But the darkness remained quiet.
I hoisted my body up onto the thick window ledge and climbed inside the study. After a few moments, Alastor followed. With his dark clothes, he was almost impossible to see, the mist covering any stars and blocking the moonlight that might have given us away.
My eyes drifted to the desk with a few papers strewn about. Many of them contained my signature.
Alastor and I made our way to the open study door and peered out into the hall. No guards were about. We looked at each other and nodded before going in opposite directions.
Outside, Lord Burrow’s men were surrounding the palace and the courtyard as well as attempting to sneak in on the other side of the palace. We would close in on the Argonians before they knew what had hit them.
A few lamps lit the hallway, and I listened carefully for anyone that could possibly be approaching from either side.
I rounded the corner of the hall that would eventually lead me to the throne room and unsheathed my sword.
Behind me, I heard someone yell, “Hey!” As if he’d come out of nowhere, the Argonian was on me in a second.
Did he know who I was? Or did he suspect me to be just another intruder, a loyalist?
He carried a broad sword with a slightly curved blade, the symbols of Argon engraved in the metal. The guard took a swing towards me and then another. It was an effort to defend myself.
I struck low, managing to cut his leg, weakening him.
After that it was easier to counterattack, until eventually the soldier was on the ground, clutching his bleeding wounds.
I was running now, my footsteps loud across the floor.
I could hear commotion closer to the other side of the palace.
The Argonians must have spotted Lord Burrow’s men and all flooded in that direction.
I reached the throne room. It was entirely devoid of life and sound.
Did Thatcher know I was here? Had he been alerted to our presence and was he now hiding like the coward I knew him to be?
“Where are you?” I mumbled to myself, sword ready to strike at any moment. If Thatcher wasn’t here, he could be anywhere in the palace.
My eyes found the throne at the end of the room.
The throne my father had once sat on. The throne Thatcher had placed himself on after killing Jack in front of our eyes.
A shudder went through me. I could still picture Jack’s blood on the floor, the dead guards surrounding us and Thatcher confessing to the murder of my family.
My palms began to sweat against the hilt of my sword.
I could feel my heart beating in my throat.
He was around here somewhere. I could feel it.
From somewhere in the distance, I heard a scream and the sound of swords clashing. I could only hope our men were holding their ground against the Argonian guards.
Another scream sounded, closer now, and this time it was female and heartbreakingly familiar.