Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 48568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
At the very moment Seb locked eyes with this leader, he felt a hand on his collar. A powerful grip yanked him back out of the chair and dragged him out the private door that had been previously hidden by a tapestry behind the royal seats. He did not see who had him. He was too shocked to react to anything. Everything had gone more or less instantly numb, much to his, well, indifference.
Just as Sebastian was pulled to what might be safety, he heard the black bearded man issue a command in a voice that did not break, not even one bit.
“Capture the prince! The Death King will have the little sod!”
In the secret passage behind the dining table, Sir Lucan spoke urgently in Sebastian’s ear, uttering a deep gruff command.
“Run.”
Lucan’s voice ran through Sebastian like fire, igniting shameful, hidden, terrible impulses he instantly felt guilty for.
But Sebastian could not run. His limbs felt heavy and immobile. He thought perhaps he had been poisoned too — for it was now entirely obvious that he had sat by like a lump of clay while his entire family and indeed court had been poisoned to death, but in truth it was nothing but fear making him like stone.
With a curse, Lucan tossed the prince over his shoulder. Sebastian’s weight did not seem to slow him one bit as he rushed down the secret back passages of the castle. They were empty, which meant that the treachery of the invasion was limited to the main passages and apparently, the kitchen.
It was not until they emerged into the stables that trouble found them again.
“Ho!”
Their way was blocked by two red-tabard-wearing soldiers at the entrance to the stables. Sebastian recognized them as having been among those training earlier in the day. His family had been betrayed. He had been betrayed.
Lucan dropped Sebastian, drew his sword, and cut the same men he had laughed and trained with just that morning down with swift, sure strokes. He used his blade with minimalist precision, doing what had to be done with neither hesitation nor remorse.
Half-lying on the floor where he had been left like a sack of potatoes, Sebastian’s face was covered in a mist of fine traitor blood. He tasted copper and smelled death. Still shocked and terrified into utter immobility, he watched the object of his affections become death incarnate on his behalf.
The fine garments he wore were now smeared with a mixture of horse shit and blood. Devos’ work had been thoroughly defiled, as had Sebastian and his family. He began to check over his attire, but there was no time to document all the horrors. Lucan reached back down, grabbed Sebastian by the back of his vest and threw him over his shoulder again. Sebastian was tall and lanky and not an easy carry, but Lucan threw him around as if he weighed nothing at all.
Sebastian was set down on his feet once they entered the stable just a few strides later. Lucan picked a horse from among those stabled and began to tack it up, working swiftly, methodically, and with a practiced touch as he ensured every bit of tack he put on the powerful beast was a good fit and in the right place. Time seemed to slow as Sebastian watched Lucan’s rough, blood-soaked fingers working the cinch, then sliding beneath it to ensure the girth was not too tight or pinching.
He turned to Sebastian with a simple, sharp question. “Can you ride?”
Sebastian gawped at Lucan and shook his head in a silent but obvious no.
Lucan, reacting to the life and death nature of the entire affair, opted not to distill the finer aspects of horsemanship in under a minute, and instead threw Sebastian over the horse, securing him in place like a hunting carcass.
He urged the horse forward with a click of his tongue and a squeeze of his lower legs. The beast, being well trained, reacted immediately, leaving the stable at a trot that quickly transitioned through canter and into an outright gallop.
The stables were located at the very edge of the castle hold, in a twilight sanctum between open world and castle innards. This allowed knights and other travelers to come over the moat and park their beasts before entering the castle proper.
It also allowed for a swift royal getaway.
“RAISE THE BRIDGE!” Traitorous guards shouted the order. As the knight and the prince attempted their escape, three men went to each of the moat cranks and began pulling at the levers, forcing massive chains to become taut and then pull at the great bridge.
Lucan urged their mount onto the bridge as it began to move, the far end lifting more swiftly than the end they had entered upon. The soldiers only managed a three-quarter turn of the levers, but it was enough to put a chasm of air and water between the fleeing prince, his knight, and the far bank. Sebastian saw soldiers armed with poles rushing up onto the bridge behind them on foot, clearly intending to pierce and skewer.