Chapter 58 #2
Yvette had fallen, one of the prisoners holding her cloak in a tight grip.
Florian saw no more than a filthy outstretched hand.
He stilled, prepared to set Keira down and draw his thin sword when Yvette drew the borrowed knife from her belt.
She slashed out, cutting her attacker’s wrist with a yell.
They released her, and she scrambled to her feet, dagger still in hand.
She did not wait for him before taking off at their original pace. Around and down they went again, through calls and threats and shrieks of madness. Until they came face to face with what Florian had dreaded. Four guards emerged from the side hall just ahead of them.
There wasn’t time to think as he handed Keira over to Yvette, who struggled under the unexpected weight. He put himself between them and the guards, who were already arming themselves with their clubs. Florian drew his slender blade.
The first came at him, all bravado, no grace.
Florian easily dodged his clumsy swing. However, while his focus was torn, another took the opportunity to strike, bringing their club down hard on his shoulder.
Instinctively, his nondominant arm cradled inward as he planted his foot into his attacker’s chest, sending the guard stumbling back down the steps into their companions.
Florian lashed out with his rapier, knocking aside an oncoming club only to take the opening to land a disabling blow to his gut.
The guard staggered against the wall, concerning himself with stopping the bleeding as the others rallied.
Having found his rhythm, Florian deflected their swings, his motions barely registering as he kept them at bay.
Their predictable blows did not strike him, but outnumbered as he was three to one, they were driving him back, first one step, then another.
He was too much on the defensive. Eventually, they would break through to threaten Yvette or Keira.
Florian gritted his teeth, pushing a second wind into his constant motions. His left side rewarded him with a dull roar of pain that flared and lingered on the edge of his senses.
He raised his rapier to parry another blow, but it never came.
Midswing, his opponent was flung suddenly backward, losing her footing as she began to fall, tumbling down the stairs.
Florian barely caught a flash of movement before the next looked down at his chest and the blade protruding from it in horror. But a glance was enough.
Florian dispatched the third and final guard as Knox pulled his blade free.
“What are you doing here?” Florian asked.
“You’re taking too long. We need to move,” Knox said. He was already striding over to Keira and hoisting her easily into his arms.
Of course, it was obvious Florian wouldn’t be capable of carrying her, not as he cradled his injured shoulder. The swelling pain was already spreading down his arm. The joint was likely dislocated.
Knox turned and led the way back down the stairs without another word.
The guards on the floor were bleeding liberally, though it was clear at least two of them were not dead.
As they continued, the scent of fresh sea air grew stronger as the passage opened to a large cavern.
There had been an iron gate barring the way, but it hung open. What lay beyond was chaos.
The cavern itself was home to a small crescent of rock surrounding a sheltered bay.
Beyond the mouth, the channel was visible, though it was blocked by an iron portcullis.
There were two dinghies tied off in the bay.
Just before them, Rhea and Gareth were sheltering behind an upturned rowboat that was embedded with at least a dozen arrows.
They were surrounded by their recent kills.
“Knox,” Rhea shouted the moment she caught sight of him. “The archers!”
Florian followed his gaze to the slats cut into the rock on the far wall above them, a perfect vantage over the bay.
Without hesitation, Knox held Keira closer to his chest. He dashed for cover, reaching the shelter of the boat only after two arrows clattered against the stone, missing him by a matter of inches.
He set Keira down and immediately drew his bow.
“Florian, get the gate up!” Rhea’s command stole his attention just before Knox stood and fired.
He did not wait to see if his arrow found its mark.
Florian dashed for the tip of the crescent, to the gate mechanism.
He slipped twice on the slick stones, but he did not falter in his pace.
Thankfully, his destination was relatively sheltered from the archers by the masts of the ships in the dock.
Florian put his weight into the gear that raised the portcullis, it moved reluctantly beneath him. His shoulder flared so painfully that he was forced to release his effort, hissing as the mechanism shifted back into place.
“Let me help,” Yvette sounded beside him breathlessly.
Panic overwhelmed his pain as he looked to see Yvette was not safely with Rhea and Gareth, who were now beginning to untie one of the small ships as Knox continued to fire on the archers whenever they dared to show their face.
He had no time to argue and wasted only a second on his fears.
She was already taking a firm hold of the gear.
Florian set himself against it, and together they pushed.
With her help, it moved easier, but the agony that ignited over his shoulder flared as horribly as before.
He gritted his teeth and pushed through as the gate broke the surface of the water.
“Florian!” Knox’s growl carried through the cavern.
He turned, sweat covering his brow from exertion. Knox was with the others on the ship and pushing off. The gate was nearly high enough for the dinghy to pass. But, Florian followed Knox’s gaze to where a stream of guards was pouring from the stairs, a dozen at least.
Time was up.
“I’m letting go,” Florian warned. The edge to his voice was foreign even to himself.
Yvette nodded just before he released his pressure.
His body was already quivering with weakness. His shoulder screamed. Florian drew his sword anyhow and faced down the charge. Behind him, Yvette was continuing their effort, her breathing heavy and strained. Knox’s bow was taking out target after target, but it wasn’t enough, not by half.
“Faster!” Rhea called.
Florian readied himself as the guards came upon them.
He only had to buy them time. The strip of rock was narrow here, which Florian used to his advantage.
He positioned himself so they were forced to come at him two at a time.
He cut and slashed, parried and thrusted.
Some he sent into the water with an inelegant shove.
But fatigue was settling in, his movements slowing.
A familiar call above them drew Florian’s attention. It took only a flash of black feathers for Florian to understand what he was seeing. Thaddeus was swooping down on the guards attempting to fire on the boat. It seemed he’d found his mistress after all.
An unseen hand grabbed him by the base of his hair, setting off his balance.
His mind spun between blocking the oncoming blow to his chest or the unseen person holding him from behind.
He did not have time to act before a shrill cry of anger and desperation filled the cavern.
The grip on his hair went lax, and Florian quickly ran through the unchivalrous bastard who’d tried to take advantage of his compromised position.
Behind him, Yvette was holding her dagger, which was still embedded in the man’s neck. Her eyes were wide, and her freckled cheeks were splattered with blood.
She’d already set the wedge into the mechanism.
Florian reeled. She’d done it; the gate was lifted.
It was time to go.
Yvette struggled to pull the dagger free, but it seemed reluctant to budge.
“Leave it,” Florian said, sheathing his blade and putting his arm around he as he dashed for the water.
“Wait-” Her scream of protest died as they plunged beneath the surface together.
He took to the water naturally. Even with only one arm, Florian found the surface almost at once. Yvette, however, struggled, limbs lashing out furiously for purchase. He waded to her, treading furiously with his legs. As soon as she found him, her hands clung to him desperately.
“Around my neck, love,” Florian said, sputtering out water.
She obeyed him immediately.
“Good girl,” he whispered in relief. His legs were exhausted, his left arm unusable, and Yvette’s weight seemed as if it was willfully trying to sink him, yet Florian swam.
His entire focus set on willing every bit of strength from his tired body. He only had to reach the ship. It wasn’t too far. They’d make it. They had to.
He heard Rhea’s voice call once, twice, before he paid it any mind.
Then he caught the word that likely saved both of their lives.
“Rope!”
Florian stopped at once, feeling himself sinking, the depths claiming him as they had tried all those years ago. The memory of seawater flooding his lungs gripped him even as he reached out and closed his hand around the lifeline.
It was almost like a dream as Florian felt the currents moving around him until the ship appeared just above them.
He saw Rhea reaching down for them.
“Yvette, go,” he said.
Through the exhaustion and the waves, he didn’t know if he’d even been heard until he saw her hand meet Rhea’s grip.
Florian’s mind drifted in and out of its senses as he held onto the rope with the last remnants of his strength.
At last, he felt two strong hands pulling him from the water.
He cried out at the pain searing through his shoulder, but soon enough he was falling over the edge of the boat to lie in a motionless heap.
He knew nothing but a pair of silver eyes before he allowed himself to sink deep into dark, dark waters.