A Shattered Sword

Prologue

The first things she noticed were his boots. Dark leather, rich but practical. A single gold-plated buckle that surely no poor man could afford to buy the only symbol of his wealth. She traced her eyes up his body until she came to his face. The face that would have normally caused her to adjust any imperfection in her gown and hair, brush the gems she wore with her sleeve so they shone, and paste a smile on her face. But these were different circumstances. Her gown was plain and soiled, her neck and hands bore no gems, and her wrists were chained. She had no smile for him.

"Eleanor Klienfelt."

She chuckled mirthlessly upon hearing her name fall from his lips. She had taken pride in that name, knowing she had been a vital part of an alliance that had kept her home safe.

"Eleanor Tuania."

The man scowled at being interrupted. "What?"

"Eleanor Tuania. I no longer carry your name."

His brow scrunched in confusion as she continued. "Do you not allow the dead their preferred name?"

"The dead?"

She laughed again. "Don't act surprised. I knew the only way you were letting me out of that dungeon would be to execute me."

His expression cleared. "Then I suppose you have no objections?"

"Oh, no, I have plenty. However, I sincerely doubt you would sit here and listen to me whine like a wounded dog."

The man drew his sword. "Any last words?"

"You mock me with these chains you bound me in, thinking it different from my every waking moment. Since we wed, you have been nothing but shackles, and chains, and endless amounts of restricting, suffocating metal. I married for my country, for it is without chains and will forever be without chains. My people are free." She turned to look at him. "You may slaughter every Tuanian who stands in your way until the rivers run red and the grass is black, but we will bleed your soul until you collapse and the land swallows you. We will not fall.

"You may kill your rulers. You may kill your nobles. You may kill me. But you will never silence my land. And we will not rest until your body lays rotten and your soul burns in hell."

There was a flash of light on steel. A clang.

The stones were washed in blood.