Chapter 22
He’d been so close to Grawl, had raised his sword to strike, had plunged it right through the monster’s chest.
Grawl had only grinned, taking a few slow steps back to un-impale himself.
“Did you really believe a sword would be enough to kill me?”
Right in front of Rise’s eyes, the gaping wound had closed, and Grawl had motioned a swarm of guards to surround him.
It had taken nearly thirty men to bring him down, but finally, they’d beaten him until he was coughing blood on the ground.
Grawl had knelt down at his head, unconcerned that Rise was a danger to him at all.
“You’re certainly a bold one. I’ll give you that.” With a painful grip, he lifted Rise’s head by his hair. “Who are you?”
Grawl let his head hit the stones of the castle floor once more before he said, “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead as soon as we can set up the noose.”
Now, Rise stood on a trapdoor, his hands behind his back, and a noose around his neck. Grawl stood mere feet away but completely out of Rise’s grasp. To be this close to the monster and be so helpless, made his blood boil.
Grawl addressed the crowd, “This beast before you dared to try to kill your king.” He waited for jeers that never came. With a motion of his hand, the mercenaries unsheathed their short swords, and the crowd gave the boos Grawl had expected.
With no warning, Grawl turned toward Rise and sent sparks from his hands, engulfing Rise in a burning pain that urged a roar from deep in his chest. Grawl laughed, and it galled Rise that he’d given him a reaction.
In his head, he heard Liv’s sweet voice. She was near. Esvie was supposed to warn her to go. Why didn’t she listen?
He shouted for her to leave, to save herself.
Yet, her response was exactly what he’d expected. He didn’t want her near Grawl, not after what he’d overheard.
Grawl had wanted Liv to hear about Val’s marriage to Lord Thrait. He knew she’d come to rescue her sister from such a horrible fate. He was waiting, biding his time, until he had them both here.
He would kill them both, solidifying his rule forever. Not that he had needed the confirmation that what Liv had shared was true, it ate at him that she had wanted to join forces, and he’d refused. The only mercy was that Rise would likely die before he witnessed any of that.
“Before we kill you, do you want to let us in on who you are and why you thought it a good idea to plunge a sword into my chest cavity. I can’t die, but I do feel pain.” He laughed. “Not as much as you’re going to feel of course.”
He sent the electricity toward Rise once more until Rise smelled his own flesh burning. This time, though, Rise didn’t cry out.
“Who are you?” Grawl generally seemed to be curious.
Grawl waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Doesn’t really matter anyway. You’re no one now and you’re about to be no one forever.”
Rise wanted to scream and rail at the madman near him, but he wouldn’t give the satisfaction.
Instead, he stared straight ahead until he sensed her in the crowd.
She wasn’t in amongst the people. She’d climbed one of the parapets, and she stood, her mouth slightly open, her eyebrows dipped tightly together.
He wanted the last thing he saw before he died to be her face.
His only regret was not telling her the truth.
She’d told him she loved him. But he’d never told her that he loved her, too.
Because, he did. He knew it to be true with every fiber of his being.
He loved Liverity Strongwill. He loved that she had grown into the strongest woman he’d ever met despite a father who had gotten pleasure from torturing everyone around him.
She was fierce and deadly, and he wanted another chance to tell her so.
He loved her smart mouth and the feeling of joy that trading banter with her brought.
And he loved that she couldn’t stand a little dirt. Such a princess.
He heard Grawl’s voice once more, but by that time, he’d tuned him out.
With a loud pop, the trapdoor opened, and the noose tightened impossibly around his neck.
His arms jerked to try to relieve the pressure cutting off his lungs, but they were tied in beyond breakable bindings behind his back.
His vision began to go black around the edges.
Soon he would die, and though his suffering would be over, he watched the images of his life with sadness.
Everything he’d done had been for one purpose, to kill Grawl.
He realized in that moment that that was no way to live. It wasn’t a life.
He heard a whistle on the wind, the rope around his neck jerked, and then, he was suddenly beneath the stage, staring at the length of rope that was now sliced in half by an accurate arrow shot.
Rise sucked air into his lungs in large pulls.
He knew he didn’t have time to truly recover, but he turned over to his stomach with a groan, crawled to his knees, feeling every bruise and cut from the beating he’d received.
His neck burned from the grip of the rope.
With sure motions, he pulled his chest down to his legs and slipped his bound arms around them so that they were now in the front.
Grawl’s voice was high-pitched and unsure for the first time as he shouted, “Daughter! I knew you’d come!” Then, he seemed to forget all about Rise as he ordered, “Get her! Bring her to me!”
Rise rolled out from under the stage and went straight for one of the smaller mercenaries cowering near the stairs to the gallows. He took him down with one, meaty swing of his bound fists. He quickly sliced his bindings on the man’s discarded short sword.
Rise was free now. He ripped the remains of the noose off his neck. With determination, he grabbed the small sword and began fighting his way to Liv. All he wanted was to get to her, to tell her he loved her, and to get them both the hell out of here.
As he fought his way through the crowd of soldiers, he watched as the people produced small weapons and helped take care of some of the mercenaries in a quiet rebellion that had likely been brewing for years.
He’d lost sight of Liv, but he heard her loud and clear.
I have to find Val! Meet me in the dungeon!
Dammit! She didn’t need to go inside the castle. But he fought his way toward the entrance, and after multiple crushing blows with his shoulder, broke inside.
Cowering in the corner was the pitiful Lord Thrait. The man looked to be near 90 years old with no one to guard him. They’d likely all fled and hoped he would be killed by the likes of Rise.
Yet, as Rise took two strides toward him, raising the sword in his hand despite the intense pain it caused, the man clutched his chest and slumped to the ground. His chest rattled once, and then, he breathed no more. The man was dead.
Liv’s voice hit his brain in a panic. She’s not here! I can’t find her!
Rise turned toward the multiple doors of the great hall and chose the one that he sensed would lead him to Liv. He didn’t know where Val was, but right now, he just knew he needed to get Liv and get them both out of here before Grawl got his hands on her.
He no longer cared about his revenge as much as he cared about Liv’s life.
Even if he never got his vengeance, and Grawl ruled Umbraland forever, Rise would sacrifice everything to save Liv.