Desires of the Crown

5 - The Power in Ones Hands

          Alliar

I looked up with grateful eyes as I looked to my rescuer, he was a handsome man — or so I thought — muscular, kind brown eyes hidden behind his honour and pride. He regarded me for a brief second before he pushed back my offender — the despicable man, one could hardly call a human being.

"Why should I listen to you shadow knight?" He spat out, his tone clear with distaste and contempt.

Shadow knight? I searched my tried mind for some information, trying to come up with anything. Maybe I should have payed more attention to sister Clairea's lessons for once instead of just scrunching up the old pieces of parchment and aiming for her head. I remembered the term at least, I knew they were a relatively new band of knights but other than that my mind turned up blank — the memories were blurred either from my lack of attention or the pain that was clouding my mind. Why is it when you needed desperately to remember something your brain fails you?

"The King is on his way." My saviour spoke out in a stern and commanding tone.

The surprised looks on the men's faces struck me as a little odd. He was their King after all and would of course be giving first choice of the women in the town to entertain him, so why is it strange for him to come their way? Maybe I was reading it wrong? Maybe it wasn't surprise but fear? If the men on the carriage were right then this King was in fact the Reaper King, so I suppose their fear is warranted after all.

I stole a quick sideways glance at the other girls lined up on their knees beside me. The girls were all petrified in place, their tears were forming a small pool by their knees as they silently sobbed and prayed for a swift death. Death. I never really thought about dying, I wasn't a fool or some sort of heroine as to say that I wasn't afraid of dying, being left alone in the cold was not something that I wanted.

The loud sounds of commotion outside had my heart racing beyond comprehension as the fear set in. My throat was closing making it hard to breath while my mouth seemed to dry and made me in desperate need for a drink. Maybe this was just a dream, a shocking and distasteful dream — no, a nightmare. How do you wake yourself up?

The door — a small, wooden, flimsy piece of bark — broke in two and fell to the floor as it opened and swung into the clay walls with such force that had everyone in the room flinching back.

I knew then that I should have looked down, adverted my gaze and looked away like all of the others in the room but once my shocked and wide eyes found the piercing black ones that seemed as dual as a cold empty cave in the dead of winter, I was stuck. The room fell into an eerie silence while the cold wind whistled in. I couldn't help but stare at the man, stare into his seemingly lifeless dark eyes. Power radiated off of him like a bad smell off a decaying carcass. I needed to look away, this man — the King — was about to determine my fate and here I was staring at him with no sense of submission, I was basically asking him to kill me now. I blame my upbringing, I was always told to keep my head held high and only drop my gaze for someone above my station — although I failed to even get that right. He was a king and the man who held my life in his hands, he held all the power, I should be begging, dropping my eyes and following the lead of the other girls but my pride refused to let me.

The King with dark eyes held my gaze intently for a moment, his eyes showed no emotion but pure irritation at my lack of respect and obedience as he narrowed them into dark slits that would have sent chills through my spine if I could actually feel the rest of my body.

A small nudge in my arm tore my attention back to the rest of the room and the here and now. I quickly looked down, giving in to the situation and silencing my screaming pride for the time being. My eyes found the dusty floor as I tried to gather up my thoughts and come up with an ingenious plan of escape. I listened to the soft shuffling of feet and inaudible mumbling as a pair of feet began to move into my view. I stole a quick glance at the line of girls with their chins on their collarbones and their eyes either tightly closed or on the floor, the girl next to me — who had nudged me with her shoulder to gain my attention — held a terrified expression on her ghostly white face.