Trial by Combat

Grandmother held her sword loosely, grimacing as the King swung down at her head again. She brought it up to defend herself, but it was knocked out of her hands and off the stage, leaving her defenseless.

The King had been enjoying himself, slowly advancing and making his moves as aggressive as possible to tire her out. I looked around for Sir Michael, hoping he could end the madness, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The crowd's noise had died out completely, as most of them didn't like the idea of the King going against a woman who hadn't wielded a sword once in her life. One of them had been kind enough to lend her his sword, wishing her luck as he did so.

Despite that, my intense loathing for everyone only seemed to increase. I wondered why none of them tried to plead with the King; even the queen sat in her chair, her nails dug deep into her thighs. As much as I respected her, I believed she should have done more to help the woman who had served under her for years.

Alas, no one raised a hand or a voice, fearing they would be the next ones standing on the podium, fighting for their lives.

"Is that it?" The king taunted, pressing his sword against her neck.

Grandmother didn't move. Rolling his eyes, the king dropped his arm and shook his head.

"Pick up your sword," he ordered.

Grandmother laughed, surprising the King. "Kill me, you wasted fool."

The king's nostrils flared up, but he said nothing. Lunging at Grandmother, he struck her across the face. I yelled, gnashing my teeth as she fell to the ground, clutching her face. He stood above her, matching her hateful glare.

"Die." He lifted his sword, preparing to strike her down in one hit. Grandmother turned her head to look at me one last time, smiling as the blade came down.

I wanted to look away, but my head refused to turn away. My body refused to move, forcing me to watch as the blade plunged itself into my grandmother's chest. My senses dulled as she coughed blood, giving the King one last defiant look.

Don't die.

You must survive.

Her words from my dream played in my head over and over again. The sight of her burning and getting stabbed by the man I aspired to be stuck to the darkness of my mind like glue. I felt a pair of hands grab my shoulders, but I had no idea who it was. All I could see and hear was the last family I had.

"Miles!!!"

I didn't want to answer. I wanted to drop to the ground and cry till my eyes ran dry. But I felt my senses returning. I could hear the crowd screaming, but I didn't know why. A feminine voice called my name over and over. I wished it was Grandmother's, but it wasn't.

"Miles! Please put the sword down."

I blinked, clearing my eyes at once. I was surprised to find myself standing in front of the King, the sword he had knocked out of my grandmother's hands in mine, leveled at his chest. The queen had her hands on my shoulders, trying to pull me away.

"Drop the sword, Miles," she pleaded. "Put it down. Please."

I wrenched her arms off my shoulders, giving her a loathsome look. "Get away from me."

She looked at me, her mouth open with shock, but said nothing. One of the king's guards vaulted onto the stage and stood in front of the queen, afraid I'd kill her instead.

"What do you think you're doing?" The king asked. He sounded disappointed. "Now that she's dead, you can become my knight!"

"I will kill you," I growled, my rage growing as he made light of her death.

"What a bother," the king sighed. "I'm willing to overlook that if you kneel right now and pledge your life to me."

"You really are the sick bastard she said you were," I spat.

I lunged at him, my sword aimed at his smug face, but I was kicked aside. I fell off the podium and to the ground, losing the sword in the process. I heard it clatter to the ground, but I had no idea where it was. I sprung to my feet to search for it, hoping I could take the life of the bastard who murdered my grandmother before I died as well.

"I will give a thousand pieces of silver to whoever brings me his head," the king offered, gritting his teeth as he stared me down.

The crowd was silent, watching the situation unfold. I could feel the tension in the air. I had forgotten they were still there, completely erasing them from my sight even as I searched for the blade. But following the King's offer, their hesitation was replaced with murderous intent.

All aimed at me.

I got to my feet and scrambled for the sword, but the crowd surged forward, pushing me back to the ground. I tried to get to my feet, but they knocked me down every time, grabbing my hair, kicking me, slapping me. I could only raise my hands above my face to defend myself as they battered me mercilessly.

There was no one to cry out to help for. I had intended on taking the bastard of a King down with me, but it seemed I would die without even avenging Grandmother. The pain the crowd inflicted on me felt like nothing compared to the agony I felt inside. I didn't want to die like this, but there was nothing else I could do but accept my fate.

"I will avenge her," I swore, feeling my consciousness slip away. "I will kill every last one of you."

As my eyes swung shut, I heard a loud explosion from above me. I smiled, embracing death as warmth coursed through my body. Screams erupted all around, but I paid them no heed, only staring at the flickering flame in the distance, beckoning for me to come.