Chapter 59
Fifty-Nine
Claudas was in the castle’s highest tower, surrounded by a room of guards. As we circled the staircase, my mind flashed to the lake vision. This was the same staircase my parents descended on the day I was born.
Galehaut and I were joined by Gawain, Percival and a few other knights. At Claudas’s chambers we made quick work of his sentinels and charged the bolted door.
I had expected a well-armored, hale man, but Claudas was neither.
He held a sword but was not dressed for battle.
He was older than I anticipated, with deep bags beneath his eyes and a paunch protruding from his silks.
There was something pitiable about him, the way his upper lip twitched.
Above the fireplace hung a portrait of his dead son, Dorin.
I felt a stab at my chest and stumbled back. A guard had unleashed a crossbow, piercing me just beneath the ribs. I was too consumed by the redness to register the pain, but I felt the blood pouring out of the wound. Galehaut pulled a dagger from his leg sheath and threw it into the guard’s eye.
I had just enough time to remove the arrow from my stomach before another guard was on me. I ducked his poleaxe and sliced him through the legs.
Somehow my stomach wound did not hurt too much, but I could feel the blood seeping out of me, draining my awareness.
To my right, Galehaut was in combat with the largest of Claudas’s knights, a man with surprising speed and agility. I took down two knights with one hand, and Gawain felled another, both of us inching closer to Claudas, who stood poised by the window.
My vision was splitting, my legs went heavy. As I swung at two knights, I heard Bagotta behind me.
Aim towards the face. Cleverness defeats strength. Save your thrusts for the right moment.
Just as a knight was about to strike me from above, I sliced off his hand and swept his legs with a swift kick. The fountain of blood spurting from the stump stunned the other guard, giving me an opening to take him down, too.
Across the room, Galehaut slid and fell onto a poleaxe. I looked on with a surge of panic as his sword went sliding across the floor. He stood and tried to grab it, but could hardly walk. The poleaxe had sliced into his back.
The guards were cleared and only Claudas remained. None of us had noticed when, moments earlier, he’d recovered the crossbow and loaded it.
In the corner, Gawain was hunched over, catching his breath. Galehaut was to his right, clutching his wound. Claudas was aiming the crossbow in their direction, ready, with the release of a finger, to take one of them down.
I had stood frozen before, but this time my body would react. I was too far from Claudas to attack him, but I could close the space between Gawain and Galehaut.
I could breach the trajectory of the arrow and knock away its target.
I could throw myself in front of one of them.
But not the other.
It was impossible to know who Claudas was aiming for. Impossible for me to protect them both.
The hands of fate had forced me to choose.