Tales of the Vangen: The Siege of Middengard (Book 2)

Chapter 25: Battle of the Breach (Part 4/4)

{I can still see her in my dreams. Even in the cold, nebulous dark I can make out her figure just beyond my field of vision. Sometimes I think it's the Empress coming to haunt me again, but I can tell. They move differently, stare at me differently. In the Empress, all I see is scorn. In Elena, a deep potent sadness. Why can I not let her go? Why will she not let me go? Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try to bury the past, it always seems to dig itself up and follow me home.}

-Captain Chronicler Libro, an excerpt found in the back annals of the Archive

Sigismund gritted his teeth and lunged with all his might towards the Iron Knight. His sword wasn't made of Star Steel, but he wasn't aiming for its armor. He wanted what was underneath. He rammed the full length of it through a gap in the plates, sliding through meat and bone before punching out the other side. The Knight gave a kind of gurgled scream, turned on Sigismund faster than he'd realized, tore his grip from the sword and sank a fist into his jawline, hard enough he heard his teeth crack as he went bowling over into the street. He blinked once he'd stopped rolling, stars spitting into his eyes, saw the Knight trudging towards him, sword still sticking from its body. With some effort it raised its own, set to finishing him off.

Damn his luck, but deep he knew this was how it would all end. Ever since he'd first met Elba he'd dedicated his life for her. Not in some romantic sense, he'd never felt that kind of inclination towards her, nor any woman for that matter. No, it was more a sense of honor for him. Honor towards his tribe, his family, his friends.

That's what Elba was. A friend. A good and loyal friend just like him. And now he would die because of it. With the last bit of effort, Sigismund closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Choom!

There was a sound like clapping thunder. Sigismund opened his eyes, saw a crossbow bolt the length of man's arm sticking out of the visor of the Knight's helmet. It reeled back, black blood bubbling from the wound, its sword clattering onto the cobbles.

Sigismund didn't waste any time. He hauled his broken body up, grabbed the Star Steel blade, grunting with effort to lift it. It rose shakily, his grip tighter than a desperate lover as he raised it overhead and brought it down like he was chopping wood.

The blade split the Knight's helmet completely in two, its head bursting apart like an overripe melon, black rot splashing onto the stones, onto the walls, onto Sigismund. He reeled back, shielding his face with one hand as dark gore spattered onto his boots, on his clothes, in his hair.

A figure stepped up beside him. One of the Vangen, a dark man with smooth, unblemished skin, his head full with fresh, tight curls, a crossbow the size of a large dog wedged in his manly grip. He was smiling at Sigismund now, with teeth so white and perfect they were almost dazzling to look at. He held up a shaky hand to wave.

"Thank you," Sigismund croaked out. He put a hand to his cheek to wipe some of the Knight's blood off, realized he'd been blushing. Why was he blushing?

"Thank me later," The man winked. "Get to your Chief!" He pressed the crossbow to his shoulder, a fresh bolt already loaded, and pulled the trigger. Another loud boom echoed out as another nearby Knight was swept back and sent crashing into a crowd of slaves.

"Right!" Sigismund said. Elba was still lying on the ground, hands clutched shakily to the stones as if she might fly away at any moment. There were bruises across one side of her face, a streak of blood running down the other from a cut across her brow. Sigismund bent down, put a hand under her arm and tried to lift her.

"Gah!" Elba cried out. "My arm!"

"Is it broken?"

"Don't know!"