A Struggle of Power

War

Madeline had quickly charged the gates of the court. Her men at her side as they shot their arrows from their horses. Grappling to the side of the stone wall they climbed up. The song of swords playing in her ears with an occasional grunt, hiss, and scream as someone got hurt. Blood stained her sword and splattered on her cheek. She had sliced at least five men to their deaths, but in the midst of the battle she found herself losing count. It didn't really matter anyways.
    She heard the men shout something but couldn't make out who, or what. That was until one of her one men fell to the ground with an arrow in his eye. She looked up at the tall towers. The archers wearing shiny metal and shooting their way down. They had taken a few out and she quickly grabbed her bow that was securly attached to her back. She pulled it loose and grabbed an arrow stuck in one's body.
    "Grab the dead soldiers, use them as a shield." She yelled. She quickly placed the arrow on her bow and pulled. She looked up at the archers still planted carefully and easily. There was no time to wait, no time to relax, she had to shoot before another man fell. "Steady." She whispered. Releasing the arrow she watched it fly. Striking one of the archers as he fell over and out of the tower. If he survived the arrow he certainly didn't survive the fall.
    She quickly made work at finding more arrows. As she gathered them she pointed, and shot. One at a time the archers of Nescain fell either to their death or fell from their death. There was no way to be sure which one. She heard a strong growl behind her. She turned to see a large man hovering over her kneeling body.
    "You think you're so cleaver huh?" He grinned. She swore the devil was inside this man, maybe he was the devil. She froze as he raised a large hammer above his head.
    Bringing it down she rolled out of the way just in time. She gripped her sword tighter as she watched him. Her hair flying every direction obscuring her vision. She quickly jumped as he swung again. His arm length was vastly longer than hers and she wouldn't be able to get in close enough. She sighed, she would have to find a way.
    Use their weight against them. Alexander once told her. Let them do the heavy lifting. As the man continued to swing she dodged and rolled. She grabbed a small dagger and threw it in his direction catching him in the shoulder. Though barely hurting him, his adrenaline must have been soaring.
    Swinging again and dodging he finally went off balance. She had seen her opening and quickly rushed into him. She used her sword to slice the open skin between his metal armor, but she wasn't fast enough. He growled and turned quickly throwing to the side. She fell on a crumbled rock. A loud hiss a pain escaped her lips. She was winded, and wounded. The man walked up to her. The blood dripping from both wounds. She hissed as he stepped on her side.
    "You think you can come here and take back your country. Take back what you abandoned?" He growled.
    "My people will never accept your rule." She hissed. "You might as well kill me now, because if you don't I won't stop until she is dead."
    "You dare to threaten my queen." He raised the hammer above his head.
    A silver sword coming through the back of his throat and spraying her with blood. The man gasped and wheezed as he tried to breathe. His hands dropping the hammer and reaching for his throat. He stumbled and fell to his knees. She crawled up to avoid his bleeding body and looked back up. Alexander stood there covered in blood. His temple is bleeding but his smile is still the same. Gosh even with blood he's gorgeous. She thought to herself.
    "Are you ok?" He asked.
    "I'm fine. Are you ok?" He nodded. "Good then let's take the castle back."
    "Forward!" He yelled. The two smiled at each other as they raced through the halls.
    Blood covered the floor, and painted the walls. The dark wood will forever hold a red tint to remind her of the massacre. As every man ran to her she would quickly use an arrow she collected and shoot them. She led the army she had made. Upon arriving in the throne room they were greeted by dozens of men.
    "The Queen has arrived." A man with a mischievous grin spoke.
    "Stand down Kingsley." Alexander spoke.
    "I should've known." The man continued to speak. "I should've known Othia isn't stupid to send such a young man to negotiate."
    "You also should've known I would tear you apart when I arrived." Madeline spoke.
    "No, there's no way we can't settle this peacefully?" He asked.
    "Peace? No, that option is long gone." She gripped her sword. "It has been since you killed my sister."
    "Oh no hard feelings? The past is the past let it be there."
    "I don't think I will." She responded.
    "Well I guess we will just have to fight then won't we?"
    Without any other words their swords clashed quickly. A frenzy broke out and the ground was adding to its collection of bodies, and pools of blood. Madeline found herself surrounded by three men. She quickly slide the left when one swung. Her movement caused him to lung forward and into the man behind her. Spinning around to the back of the man she kicked him, furthering to impale the other. Her hand raised with the face of the blade hitting another and quickly turned her arm. Disarming another guard she quickly beheaded him.
    She saw Kingsley spread of worry. He began to retreat. She wouldn't let that happen.
    "Alexander!" She screamed. Catching the knight's attention the two began to race after him.
    She felt her feet burning and her lungs begging for air, but she pushed on. She ran through all the halls and forced herself through the pain. Upon coming to a halt she held her sword out. Kingsley looked at her carefully. "You don't want to do this."
    "I think I do." She snarled. Beheading him quickly and sighing. "Take his body back to the others. We won this battle."
    Alexander wasted no time. The others seeing their captain dead would force them to surrender.
    Walking back to the throne room herself she found her men slowly peeling off their armor, and resting on ground where no blood had found its home. She walked up to the throne. Her throne, and glided her fingers over it. She sighed and sat down. The people who noticed kneeled before her.
    "Long live the Queen." They said.
    "Long live ryraq." She responded. "We won this one, but we are not done fighting. We shall rest and make plans for Nescain. We will win, and Queen Elizabeth will pay."