The Kingdom of Obsidius (Part 5)

The man beside Calder began loading his crossbow. His shaking hand made it difficult to load the metallic bolt. A quick yelp exited the man's mouth as a projectile appeared in his skull. He collapsed as Calder felt cold air rush past him. The glint of silver armor passed his peripheral vision as several soldiers sprinted by. They slammed into Godrick, pushing the large man back. The shock sent Calder's blade flying from Godrick's hands. Each soldier briefly took a step back to assess the damage done. A sword protruded from Godrick's flesh as one soldier desperately tried to withdraw it. A heavy breath came from the injured man almost as if it were the growl of a wild animal. A hand came down on the soldier's head. The armored man panicked as he continued to try and withdraw the sword. He flailed about as Godrick's grip tightened. The metal helmet crumpled inwards as blood spurted out between the gaps in Godrick's fingers. The group of Obsidius soldiers stepped back again, this time in fear.

"Bring in the Ballista!" Neal stood at the entrance and waved to the men outside. "Hold the seventh knight off till then. We must not let our prince die!"

"For the king, for the prince!" A shout rose around Calder as the soldiers regained their courage.

Calder's knees shook as he stared down into a pool of blood that had begun to form around his feet. 'Save me? Die for me? I failed. I should bear the consequences.' He opened his mouth to shout but it felt as if his tongue was caught in his throat. 'This killing. This death. All this kingdom wants is death. Why do I deserve to be saved from the embrace of death?' At that moment the sounds of battle intensified as Calder trembled at his thoughts.

Other members of the Hand of Obscurses lept out from behind the overturned tables to join the fray. Godrick charged, grabbing the unfortunate soldier in front of him by the neck. With a loud snap, the soldier's body went limp and then was tossed aside.

"He's a monster," a young man stammered. He jumped when one of his companions placed a hand on his shoulder.

"The seventh knight we face here is just a mockery of one of the King's knights. The Hand yearns for what they lost long ago," his companion replied with steady confidence in his voice. "How can we call ourselves warriors if we can't even face a mimicry of real power? We must hold."

The young man swallowed his fear and slashed at an oncoming attacker in a patchwork cloak. He glanced at the prince and frowned at the broken figure. A short blade came for his abdomen, yet he sidestepped it and stuck back. The towering figure ahead was still ripping apart men with his bare hands.

A bellowing shout came from the entrance. "Duck!" The young man put his hands over his head and squatted. He heard a piercing sound above him cut through the air, then the thunderous crack of wood snapping in two. When he looked up he saw Godrick's body sprawled across the overturned tables. Splinters of wood had exploded across the floor. A large wooden pole protruded from Godrick's chest. Every man on the battlefield stood in silence as Godrick desperately gasped for air. His breath soon turned to a viscous sound as he choked on his own blood. Then, it all suddenly stopped.

Calder gazed at the scene around him. His face was drained of all color and his eyes were devoid of all emotion. The piercing stare from the prince froze anyone it passed. "Are you done?" Calder mouthed. With ghostly movements, his sight drifted to the other side of the room. "Are you satisfied? Have you spilled enough blood to quench your thirst?" He forced a pithy laugh. "No response!" He swung around and opened his arms to invite anyone to speak. "It seems you have. I thought it nigh impossible!"

"My prince, we should get going." Neal crossed the chapel and had now removed his helmet.

"Yes," Calder took one last look at the devastation. His jaw quivered as he stained the floor with his crimson footsteps. "It seems my task is done." Calder's voice began to trail off into anxious mumbles. "It's done, isn't it?"

The two of them walked in silence as they made their way down the church's stone steps. Another garrison of troops stood outside, ready to join in at a moment's notice. Neal raised his hand to signal the fighting was over. Several soldiers relaxed their stance. The commander surveyed the prince from head to toe before speaking. "This is not your fault, my prince. The Hand of Obscurses cannot be negotiated with. I was planning to charge the church before I received a direct order from your father." Neal scratched the back of his head as a look of concern appeared on his face. "Honestly I don't know what the king was thinking. He is often a man of action. This just seems uncharacteristic of him."

"Yes, it does," Calder muttered. He breathed a sigh of relief and let out a meek smile. "Neal, I will report back to my father. Make sure to clean up the last of this regrettable mess."

Neal thrust his hand to his shoulder and bowed. "I wish you goodwill in all your endeavors, and may the light shine on Obsidius."

"May the light shine on Obsidius," the prince repeated back.

With that last gesture, Calder took off again towards the palace. 'A direct command from my father,' he thought. 'What would be the purpose of having me negotiate with traitors to the crown? Did he know this would happen and that these negotiations would end in disaster?'