The War Of The Century

The Deranged Fight

Castor wasn't only fighting to keep his wife, he was now fighting to prevent my marriage to Sir Byrne. He needed to win, for all three of us.

Their swords clashed loudly and stuck together making an X after the first swing. When they teared apart, it was clear by the smooth sound that eroded off their swords edges that they were both razor-sharp and ready to be quenched of murder.

A circle formed around the men fighting for their life and within a minute, gambling and bets of who would win rapidly escalated. I even heard calls of how they would die which made vomit push its way up my throat. I'd clearly had too much red wine.

Leo tried to keep me away just in case the worse result of the fight would happen. But I elbowed him back. I was a trained fighter-he'd refused the lessons calling them 'too violent for this day and age'. If anyone was going to get hurt, it would be him.

I couldn't tell who was winning and I dreaded how long this would go on for. More clashes. More nicks where the blades had only just caught the skin. More panting. More punches. More blood. More injuries. More screams from their audience. I whispered under my breath, "Come on Castor." But just as I presented him my hope, a deep squeak erupted from Castor. Blood streamed down his leg, Sir Byrne had twisted himself into a low circle and sliced him neatly. I could see the sweat glistening off my brother. Suddenly, his lips formed into a stiff frown and he lunged, catching the side of the opening in his armour. I squealed with joy.

Sir Byrne was infuriated.

He swung and swung and swung and swung so promptly that my eyes couldn't keep up with the events happening right in front of me. Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. But someone from the crowd had tripped my brother forcing him onto his knees. The man that tripped him was Lord Oriol. Sir Byrne kicked my brothers sword from his hands, stood above overpoweringly and raised his heavy-looking blade high above. I screamed, "NO!" My brother was soon to be dead and this was how I'd always remember his face: his right eyebrow cut and oozing red, his foreheads sweat sliding down his chistled features and the look in his eyes that yelled 'I don't want to die.'

But he didn't die.

It seemed as though Ekon had also noticed the foul play Lord Oriol had committed by tripping our brother and for once Ekon cleverly copied someone else.

Ekon's blade entered through a small gap in the armour, completely obliterating Sir Byrne's stomach. A deafening and completely shocked groan wedged out of his teeth. Blood spluttered from the mouth hole in the helmet which ruined the shine of the metal. When Ekon removed his sword, firstly twisting the handle to inflict more pain, Sir Byrne fell to his knees defeated. Then fully onto his side where he died a minute later.

I creeped behind Jaxston and pickpocketed his dagger which was strapped to his thigh, now it was strapped to my hand. I jumped over the body of the loser and kicked the walking stick Lord Oriol leaned on. The wooden pole rolled away to Castor's shoes. Castor had lifted from the ground, thankful to be alive. Like how Castor was, Oriol fell onto his one last knee, crying out when his kneecap broke in half.

I tugged what was left of Lord Oriol's hair and balled it tightly into a fist. The stolen dagger in my hand landed perfectly against the skin of Oriol's neck. I soon realised silence was the loudest noise in the entire hall.

I asked very kindly, "Father, what should we do with this traitor?"

Tiona charged toward me and, by the expression on her face she wasn't happy how I was treating her father. Castor gripped her arm yanking her back into his arms. She scratched, bit and pounded his body away. She was desperate to halt me.

My father stepped toward me smiling, "My darling daughter, you know what we do." A twitch, that's what I'll call it. My hand twitched and just so happened to slice Lord Oriol's throat open as if he had been a piece of ham. A juicy piece of ham that bled everywhere when his head hit the floor.

The first eyes that I felt were Tiona's. She was screaming but I couldn't hear her. My reactions had slowed and I was deaf for those short and long seconds. Castor had his thick arms wrapped around her small chest and he was maintaining her back to be pressed against his ribs. She was balling out and collapsing slowly.

The second eyes I felt were Leo's. He wasn't crying. He was mentally strong like that. Although, he had that look again. That disappointed look-I was exactly like his brothers, perlirious, bold and stupid. He was taking long breaths in and out much unlike Tiona who was breathing too much. His eyes-my eyes-had small pupils as he continued to look at this side of me which he detested. I couldn't be the sweet little sister he wanted me to be and I was sorry. So sorry. He was alone.

Lastly, the third and final eyes that I intensely felt belonged to Lord Venimont. Light, honey eyes which I guessed his son that I would be marrying also owned. He was smiling at me. He seemed...proud? Proud of my ability to murder without caring. I knew from lessons that he had three sons, no daughters. I could only guess which I'd be marrying.

I handed Jaxston his blade which he snatched angrily back and once my senses returned, I made my way to my bedroom not looking back at the many eyes that followed me.

What a perfect wedding. Wouldn't you agree?