Child of the Tomb#JustWriteIt

The Withering Day

(Okay, Last chapter of Part 1, so this isn't the end, but I'll probably pause and take a vacation from typing for a bit. Blah blah. Well I hated this chapter, because it's kind of boring and has a lot happen in a short period of time. It felt rushed, so yeah, let me know any grammer errors and all that. I think there are quite a few, but you know, whatever, it's not edited and it was thrown together without any thought. But, here you are, I hope you don't mind how bad it is, and hope you'll stick around and wait for the next Part to be updated!!! I'm really excited to write it!)

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Chapter Nine

        The calm before the storm lasted little more than a week, Marriah became bedridden with a fever that worsened her condition. Her constant huffing and chain coughing was keeping most of the knights sleep depraved. 

        Casmere was the only one that left the safe house, swathed in shadowy clothing and a dark expression, he passed unnoticed by the Noa knights that patrolled streets. The capital seemed to be waiting for something, all the people staying behind closed shutters and locked doors. The Lamial Royal guard did what he could to keep the first squad fed and ready to react if need be. 

        Casmere had returned a few hours before, bearing a message for the king, he found his liege seated before the roaring hearth fire, elbows braced on his knees. 

        “My Lord,” The Knight began, bowing slightly, “There was word from General Tosse and Vath, they’ve met up at the rendezvous point and are waiting for our scouting report, and they’ve asked that you bring the Witch to them.”

        Gideon rubbed at his chin, feeling the scratchy bristles of his beard, “I don’t like the idea of moving her, but I’m not sure how much longer she can protect this place. It’ll be safer to be further away from the Noa army when she drops the barrier.”

        “Then you’re in agreement?”

        “Yes,” The King glanced at his Royal guard with his dark blue eyes and he sighed, “We’ll depart tomorrow at sundown.”

        Casmere bowed, “As you wish, your majesty.”

        The king asked him to leave him be, so the knight left the warm room and headed to inform the other members of the Lamial army that they would be heading to meet up with the rest of the knights. The stairs creaked sullenly beneath his boots and he was walking past Marriah’s resting chambers when he heard a weak squeal. He froze and considered the options, leave it, or check and make sure the druid was still alive enough to protect the house. He ended up with the latter, pushing through the closed door, and coming to a surprised halt.

        Marriah wriggled, grasping at the hands that pressed into her throat, cutting off her air supply. Little lacerations seemingly cut through the assailants cheeks and arms with slashes of air. Her green eyes were wide, and her mouth agape, face red with exertion. She managed a high pitched keening noise in the back of her throat, and it set the knight into action. 

        Casmere wielded his sword expertly, and barked an order, calling the mans name, “Artimus! Release her.”

The faint ginger hue to the tall knights hair glowed in the sunlight, and his head snapped to the side, wild eyes a strange silver, face lined with an animalistic snarl. He said nothing to his defense, and turned back to the woman frantically throwing sharp lashes at the man hovering over her. Her lungs ached, and the fever made her hot skin sting like a thousand of bees had swarmed on her.