The Dorston Fall [Book I in the Dorston Legacy]

Chapter 47 - Traitor

Katelyn was suddenly, and irrefutably, terrified. Why hadn’t she noticed the bandits’ advance? She had always been so alert and careful in situations like this. Nicholas had long taught her to be observant; to always be on edge and to expect the unexpected. Even now, she could see his disappointment look; his shaking head and downcast, rolling eyes. She had been so caught up in the moment, in seeing her father and worrying for Sammy, that she had cast aside all sense and reason. She had, inadvertently, become careless.

Her father rubbed her arm, assuredly, and she gazed up at him. The tips of his hair brushed against her sensitive cheek, tickling her. His expression had completely changed; hardened and braced for a fight. Admittedly, it was the strongest she’d seen him since they reunited. He looked so determined now, not so defeated and frail.

“Let my daughter go, Drake,” he ordered, glaring at the master. “You don’t really want or need her. You only caught her to spite me. You have succeeded. Now, let her go. Please.” 

Drake burst out laughing, stepping out of line and approaching them. Katelyn gritted her teeth, staring at him keenly; wishing all the might and wrath of the gods would rain down upon him. What was so amusing? 

“As much as I love to hear you beg, I’m afraid it’s not really down to me,” he stated, playing idly with his blade; dragging it across the floor, making it shrill and squeak. It pierced right through Katelyn; making her shudder. She tried her best not to let it show. She was already in the Master’s power. She couldn’t fall anymore. The men were watching them, ready to step in and defend him if challenged. If only she had a sword-

“And why would I?” hissed Drake, once again capturing her attention. “You didn’t spare my son. You could have, you had the power, the reason, but you didn’t. You killed him in cold blood. What makes your daughter’s life any more valuable than Tobias’?”

She glanced at her father. His face had paled and his gaze had dropped to the floor. She saw his regret, his sorrow and took his hand in hers. So, it was true. He had killed the boy, but she couldn’t blame or rebuke him. It was, after all, a fight to the death. Rules and traditions had to be upheld. Someone had to die. Even she understood that. Why didn’t Tobias? What possessed him to act out like that? Didn’t he realise what he was undertaking, what he would have to do, what could happen to him should he fail?

Her father pinched his nose and sighed, heavy hearted. “I cannot apologise enough for what happened to Tobias-“

Drake, suddenly, swung his sword at them; his face turning beetroot red. Katelyn flinched back; as did her father much to her surprise. She felt the gust of wind it created and trembled; falling deeper into her father’s embrace.

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” warned the Master; slowly, dangerously. “You have no right! Any and every privilege you had to it was lost when you decided to skewer him!” 

Katelyn, impulsively, flew away from her father and took a stand. She’d had enough. Any fear, intimidation or cowardice she felt, disappeared in an instant. How dare he accuse her father like this? How dare he assume he wanted to kill his son?

“It was a fight to the death you imbecile!” she snapped, pointing a finger at him. “Your son was either stupid or naïve enough to actually believe he could best the king!”

“This happened long before you were even born, girl! You have no idea and no comprehension of what happened, of what your beloved father put me through!”

“Drake, why must we tear ourselves apart over something that happened so long ago?”

Katelyn turned and saw her father get unsteadily to his feet. She assisted him without thought, securing her arms around his waist and pushing all her strength and weight against him; keeping him alive and on his feet. He winced, briefly, then readdressed his old friend with a stiff lip and raised chin.