Sly

Chapter Fifty

The rage in Girault's voice was almost tangible. A fury burned in his lungs as he cried out, swinging his sword down over King Joasten. The king's guard wasn't someone on our side, and so he was being held in place. I pulled two more knives from my clothing, almost ready to attack Girault when the end of a spear pierced clean through the neck of the soldier behind Joasten, allowing him to roll to the side.

My eyes met Bricker's as he yanked his weapon free, then I pulled myself around the corpse at our feet, slamming my back against his as I loosed my first knife at one of the soldiers from the back of the room who were now running our way.

"Keep your head on your shoulders!" Bricker shouted over the ruckus in the hall.

"Don't worry about me, newbie," I called after my first knife sank into my target's shoulder. "Worry about your own neck."

It was chaos. Taking out the two charging our way, I spared a moment to toss another dagger toward Rorik, who was yanking his mother's bindings free. He grunted as he caught it, barely sparing a nod while he went back to work on the ropes, now with a blade. For good measure, I tossed two on the floor in front of Mason and Braeton, then turned back to watch the room.

Dirk and Jexa were caught in a scuffle at the doors, the former engaging in a close-hand knife fight with any trying to come through the side doorway and the latter completely barring the largest main doors. With his whole weight on the doors, the soldiers would have to find another way in. My eyes slid to the final entrance to the room, the smaller servants' entrance that I had pretended to be guarding earlier. Already the first person was running in, a lanky youth with a bow.

I surged forward, running at him as his arrow reached the string and he pulled. Dropping down and sliding the last few paces as the arrow loosed from his hands, it was easier than it should have been to shove a knife upward under his ribs. A cough of blood spewed from his mouth and belly, and I thought I was going to be sick as flashes of Davery's last moments screamed through my mind.

Rolling away before the body fell, I found my feet and pushed the thoughts away to focus on the fighting. The quickest of glances over my shoulder told me there were still guards attacking, but the royals were basically freed at this point and the ones who had no ability to fight were now in a corner behind the high table away from the bloodshed while Pettypiece, who had gotten free somehow, was guarding them with his life and a spear he must have taken from one of the dead soldiers. But the thing that stopped my heart wasn't Jexa screaming as he struggled to hold his door, or Bricker who was now helping Dirk at his, but the defenseless Joasten in front of Girault.

I knew my king had a reputation for his spectacular sword-fighting, but that did nothing for him when he was unarmed. His two oldest sons were already occupied with their own foes, and the only thing standing between the king and a beheading by the traitor was now Rorik armed only with the dagger I'd given him at the start.

"No!" I screamed, watching Girault use the advantage of the longer weapon in his hand as he struck at Rorik. Blessedly, the prince had dodged it.

I had to help, I had to do something. Looking at my hand, the final dagger I had on me was Davery's. My eyes flicked back up to the scene, there was no time to run over there, but there was still time to act.

Hefting the weight for a heartbeat, I judged the best throw I could make and let the precious knife fly. I chose a target that didn't move as much as the rest of him, and I watched with bated breath as the blade sank into Girault's thigh over his bad leg.

Girault cursed in pain, but the opening was enough as Rorik pushed forward and sliced at the wrist that held his enemy's sword. Girault was swiftly dealt with after that, a bloody spray sweeping the floor as Rorik left no openings for mercy or escape, slitting the traitor's neck.