Chapter 34: A desperate escape
851 Words
The men move swiftly, their footsteps muffles against the damp earth as they weave through the village, their eyes locks on Bianca.
“She’s here,” one of them mutters.
They move faster, their mission now clear—but then, just as they near the village square, one of them freezes in place.
His breath catches in his throat, his face draining of color. His fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword.
“It… it cannot be.”
The others turn to see what has stunned him so.
And there, beneath the dim glow of the torches, standing right beside Bianca—
Sir Dorian.
A sharp, collective gasp pierces the silence.
One of the men staggers back, shaking his head in disbelief.
“The king will not spare him,” the spy whispers. “Not after this.”
Their minds race. Dorian was supposed to be in Eldermere, serving as the king’s most trusted knight. Instead, here he is—alive, well, and betraying his kingdom.
The men exchange glances.
“We take them,” one of them orders, his voice low but firm. “Now.”
They wait until Dorian and Bianca disappear into the small cottage, the door shutting softly behind them.
Then, under the cover of darkness, they move.
Dorian doesn’t hear them until it’s too late.
The door bursts open.
Bianca screams as the men charge in, swords gleaming in the candlelight.
Dorian reacts instantly, drawing his blade and clashing against the first attacker. The force of the impact sends the man stumbling back, but another swings at him from the side.
Bianca tries to run, but a hand grabs her wrist, yanking her backward.
“Let me go!” she cries, kicking and thrashing.
Dorian roars, breaking free from one of the men and slashing his sword through the air. The spy lets out a strangled gasp as the blade sinks into his chest, blood blooming across his tunic.
One down.
The second man comes at him relentlessly, his sword slicing through the air. Dorian barely dodges in time, the blade grazing his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he twists and drives his sword through the man’s gut, sending him crashing to the floor.
But it’s too late.
The third man has Bianca.
She is already being dragged toward the docks, her terrified screams cutting through the night.
Dorian’s heart pounds violently as he tears through the village after them—but then, before he can reach the boat—
A figure steps out of the shadows.
A man with a scarred face and a weathered expression.
Tomas.
Elise’s husband.
Tomas sees the crest of Eldermere on the knight’s cloak. His expression hardens.
Before the knight can shove Bianca into the boat, Tomas strikes.
A swift, precise s***h of his blade—
Blood spatters the docks.
The knight collapses, his grip on Bianca loosening as he slumps lifelessly onto the wooden planks.
Dorian finally reaches Bianca, gasping for breath, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly as if to make sure she is still there.
Bianca’s body trembles against his. She knew this day would come. She just never thought it would come this soon.
Tomas wipes his blade on his sleeve, his gaze cold and calculating as he eyes Dorian.
“You need to tell me the truth.”
Dorian, still panting from the fight, doesn’t answer immediately.
Tomas gestures toward the fallen knights. “Why were Eldermere’s men after your wife?”
Dorian’s jaw tightens. “They… They must have mistaken her for someone else.”
Tomas gives a dry, humorless laugh. “Lying won’t save you, Dorian.” His eyes flick to Bianca, who is still visibly shaken. “She’s no ordinary woman, is she?”
Silence.
Then, finally, Tomas sighs. “I don’t need to know the details. But if Eldermere is after her, then you can’t stay here.”
Dorian stiffens. “Tomas—”
“I’m sending you away.”
Dorian looks ready to argue, but Tomas raises a hand.
“I just killed a man for you,” Tomas says evenly. “Do not fight me on this.”
He turns to the body, already planning his next move. “I’ll take care of the bodies. But you need to leave before anyone asks questions.”
He moves quickly, grabbing a satchel of supplies and shoving it into Dorian’s hands.
“There’s enough food for a few days. Water, too. Take the boat and go.”
Bianca’s hands tighten into fists. “Where will we go?”
Tomas shakes his head. “That’s for you to figure out.”
He steps back, his voice lowering. “If they find you here again, I won’t be able to save you.”
Dorian meets his gaze. There is no argument to be made.
Taking Bianca’s trembling hand, he helps her onto the small boat.
Tomas watches as Dorian pushes off from the dock, the boat drifting into the dark waters.
With a heavy sigh, he turns back toward the body.
Dorian and Bianca are safe—for now.
But not for long.
- Writer
