The Truth Over The Wall

Chapter 37 (Part 1)

At first the shock of it immobilized people at large. But in another instant the soldiers pulled out their weapons and stepped forward.

With a wave of his hand Dominic had the Araaian forces move closer around him, and Princess Hanalea, while the princess herself very discreetly withdrew a slim knife from the sleeve of her dress.

Matthew emerged immediately with his personal guard in tow, and looked across the room at his niece worriedly as his hand slid to his sword.

Dominic would have been impressed if he had not been stunned. Why would Fiona's troops march directly into Neuber? He looked between Hanalea and Matthew and wondered, Did she imagine she could wipe out the Marabeckan and Tafahan monarchy in one go?

Had her arrogance convinced her to tip her hand so quick in the game? It did not matter anyway. They were meant to go head to head one of these days. Sooner better than later.

Dominic's own hand moved to the hilt of his sword when one of the witches stepped forward, her hand raised before her.

"We're not here to fight, little prince," she smiled sweetly at him through golden white lashes, "not yet. We've come to discuss a matter openly and fairly."

"Oh?" Dominic's tone was sarcastic as he surveyed the collection of witches dressed in ivy green. It was the uniform for Fiona's mercenaries. "And who among you will present this matter? You?"

The witch shook her head so that her pale hair swished about her. "That would be over stepping. I am merely her loyal servant."

"Her?" Dominic heard Hanalea exhale and turned to look back at her. The shock frozen on her face made him turn back around.

The witches had glided through the doors as soundlessly, and confidently as though they, not Hanalea's uncle were the rightful owners of the castle. But that confidence quivered, and hid deep within them as they bowed their heads respectfully to make room.

Beyond the flanks of the witches dressed in green cloaks a figure clad in a deep red dress strode in gracefully. Her entire form emanated raw power. As she passed her witches, her own stature seemed to grow in comparison to their pathetic supplicating gestures.

Hanalea's breath caught in her throat. If it had not been for Claire's journal and these words...

I saw her once.

...Hanalea never would have known who she was looking at as the witch came to stand a few feet away from her.

Lea, I was paralyzed and perplexed. I was frightened and fascinated when my guide made a wrong turn and we ended up deeper in the Tafahan woods then we'd intended, I saw her.

I saw her stand in the centre of them. And I saw her raise her hand and pick a witch up off the ground. I saw her throw that same witch against a tree and my mouth dropped open when she just turned away from it all without so much as a twitch to her facial expressions.

Her face, Lea, was round with dark expressive eyebrows high on her forehead. She had a straight nose and a pretty mouth that was small when it was closed but wide and alarmingly human when she smiled.

Waves of chestnut colored curls fell down her back and her eyes were the color of the sky right before rain. Do you want to know the most terrible thing?

Hanalea swallowed hard as she heard Claire speaking in her head even as she saw the woman before her with chestnut brown hair and blue gray eyes.

The most disturbing and sickening thing that haunts me when I close my eyes? This blood thirsty beast that has ravaged Tafah for five hundred years.