Chapter Three

1407 Words
Glass shattered everywhere. A figure in black clothing dropped into the room, a curved blade in each hand. Lady Amara shoved me toward the door and drew her sword. "Run! Find Prince Louis! Tell him Nasir's men are here!" Steel clashed against steel. I ran. Down the hallway, my bare feet slapping against stone. Behind me I heard fighting, grunts, the ring of blades. I reached the stairs and took them two at a time. At the bottom, I burst into the courtyard. Prince Louis was still there with his Commander, looking at maps spread on a table. "Assassins!" I gasped. "Upstairs! Lady Amara needs help!" Prince Louis's sword was out instantly. He shouted orders and soldiers rushed toward the stairs. More windows shattered above us. More figures in black poured in from different directions. This wasn't just one assassin. This was an attack on the entire garrison. A guard grabbed my arm. "Come with me, we need to..." An arrow pierced his throat. He collapsed, blood spreading across the stones. I looked up. On the garrison wall stood a man in fine armor. Even from this distance, I could see the red stone ring on his finger catching the sunlight. He smiled down at me. "Hello, little princess," he called. "My master Prince Nasir has been searching for you. How kind of Prince Louis to bring you right to us." "Don't move, Khalifa!" Prince Louis shouted at me. But I was already moving. The dead guard's sword lay next to his body. I grabbed it. The man on the wall laughed. "Look at this. The lost princess thinks she can fight." More assassins dropped into the courtyard from the walls. Five. Six. Seven of them, all dressed in black, all carrying curved blades. Prince Louis's soldiers rushed to form a circle around us, but there weren't enough of them. Most had gone upstairs to help Lady Amara. "Protect the prince!" the Commander shouted. The assassins attacked. Steel rang against steel. Men screamed. Blood sprayed across the courtyard stones. I backed toward the wall, gripping the sword I'd taken. It was heavier than my practice sword, the balance different. But my hands knew what to do. Two years of secret training in the dark courtyard had taught me the basics. An assassin broke through the line of soldiers and came straight for me. I didn't think. I just reacted. I blocked his first strike. The impact jarred my arms, nearly knocked the sword from my hands. He was stronger than me, faster, trained. But I was desperate. He swung again. I ducked under his blade and slashed at his leg. My sword bit into his thigh. He cursed and stumbled back. "The girl has teeth," he snarled. "Good. My master will enjoy breaking you." He came at me again, more careful this time. I blocked, parried, gave ground. Every strike he made, I barely avoided. My arms burned. My breath came in gasps. I was going to die. Then Prince Louis was there. His sword took the assassin in the side. The man dropped. "Stay behind me," Louis ordered, not looking at me. His wounded shoulder was bleeding again, the bandage soaked through. "You're hurt," I said. "I'll live. Can you actually use that sword or did you just get lucky?" "I can use it." "Good. Watch my left side. My shoulder's useless." Before I could answer, two more assassins rushed us. Louis took one. I faced the other. This one was younger, faster. His blade was a blur. I blocked desperately, giving ground with each strike. He drove me back against the courtyard wall. "You're not a warrior," he said. "You're just a girl playing with a sword." He was right. I wasn't trained. I wasn't strong enough. But I was angry. I thought of every beating Salma had given me. Every kick, every slap, every cruel word. Every time I'd hidden in corners and pretended to be weak. I wasn't weak anymore. When he swung high, I dropped low and drove my sword up into his stomach. He looked shocked. Like he couldn't believe I'd actually hit him. He fell. I pulled my sword free, shaking. I'd just killed a man. I'd just taken a life. "Khalifa!" Louis grabbed my arm. "Move!" An arrow buried itself in the wall where I'd been standing. The man with the red stone ring was still on the wall, now holding a bow. He nocked another arrow. "Fall back!" the Commander shouted. "Get the prince inside!" Louis's soldiers formed a tight group around us, shields raised. We moved toward the garrison house entrance as arrows rained down. Men fell. The soldier next to me took an arrow in the neck. Another went down with an arrow in his back. We reached the door and stumbled inside. The Commander slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind us. "Bar it! Now!" Soldiers dropped the iron bar across the door. Fists pounded on the other side. "How many are out there?" Louis demanded, breathing hard. "At least twenty, Your Highness. Maybe more." "And how many men do we have inside?" "Fifteen. Plus Lady Amara and her squad upstairs." Louis cursed. "Not enough. They'll break through eventually." "The garrison is built to withstand siege, Your Highness. We can hold them for days if needed." "We don't have days. They came prepared. They knew we'd be here. They knew about her." Louis looked at me. "This was planned. They've been watching this place, waiting for the right moment." The pounding on the door grew louder. Something heavy slammed against it. A battering ram. "They're going to break through," I said. "Not quickly." The Commander checked his sword. "That door is solid oak with iron reinforcement. It'll take them time." "Time we can use to escape," Louis said. "Commander, is the underground passage still clear?" "Should be, Your Highness. But it only fits one person at a time. If they discover it..." "They won't. Not if we're quiet." Louis turned to me. "Can you run?" "Yes." "Good. Because we're about to run very fast." Lady Amara appeared at the top of the stairs, blood on her sword. "The upstairs is secure. We killed three of them. But there are more on the roof now." "How many men did you lose?" Louis asked. "Two. Both good soldiers." Her face was grim. "Your Highness, we need to evacuate. This garrison can't hold against this many attackers." "I know. We're using the tunnel. Get your squad. We leave in two minutes. Commander, pick your five best men. The rest come with us." The battering ram hit the door again. The wood cracked but held. Louis grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back of the building. We descended into the cellar. It was dark, cool, smelling of earth and old wine. Louis took a torch from the wall and led us to the far corner. Three soldiers rolled aside a heavy wine barrel. Beneath it was a wooden trapdoor with an iron ring. Louis pulled it open. Stone steps led down into darkness. "This tunnel comes out near the eastern market. Stay quiet. Stay together." The soldiers filed down one by one. Lady Amara went next. Then me. Louis came last, pulling the trapdoor closed. In the darkness, lit only by his torch, we walked. The tunnel was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. After what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, Louis stopped. Ahead, light filtered through cracks in stone. Lady Amara climbed stone steps and pushed the trapdoor. It opened with a grinding sound. Light poured in. Fresh air. She waved us up. We climbed out into a narrow alley. The spice merchant's stall was ahead. Beyond it, the market crowd moved about their normal business. "Stay close," Louis said. "Walk normally. Don't run." We moved through the market. I kept my head down, my hair covering my birthmark. We were almost to the edge when someone shouted. "There! The prince! Prince Louis!" Heads turned. People stared. More shouts. Lady Amara muttered, "So much for not drawing attention." Then I saw him. The man with the red stone ring, standing at the other end of the market. He saw us. Saw me. He smiled and raised his hand. Assassins stepped out of the crowd. Six. Eight. Ten. They'd been waiting. They'd known about the tunnel. "Run," Louis said quietly. "Run now."
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