Forgotten Embers

81. Is It Well?

There was a faint noise like footsteps coming from the hall, and Eliezer heard it, so he left her there alone with a sweet kiss of her cheek.

"Stay here," he requested softly with a brush of her hair and a loving squeeze of her neck. "I'll go and scout it out. I want you safe."

Dorcus offered a short nod and an appreciative smile. "Alright," she said, her head dully aching from crying.

Her eyes were red from tears which stained her humble cheeks and stung from sadness. She looked up at him longingly and reached out a hand as a silent request for favor. Eliezer took it and helped her as she stood shakily to her feet with her strength sapped from sorrow.

"Eliezer," she addressed quietly, not relinquishing his hand.

"Yes?" he anxiously acknowledged with loving eyes and furrowed brow.

"Please be careful," she requested softly as she rested her head on his shoulder and pressed her watering eyes to his neck.

Eliezer closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he wrapped his arms loosely around her, his fingers gently brushing against the back of her shoulder, and he was silent for a moment as he held her.

"I will," he whispered, kissing her neck.

"Good," Dorcus said, raising her head with a small smile.

Eliezer looked at her, and she could see the concern building in his eyes as he watched her.

'Eliezer, please... don't fear for anything. It is well with me. I promise you.'

He slowly raised his hand to the heated skin of her flushed face and gently cupped her cheek as he amorously considered her tender countenance before he left. "I won't be long," he promised her with a glowing smile which she found to be contagious.

"Alright," she nodded, turning her eyes back to her brother, her heart ripped with sadness.

'Oh, Timothy, why...'

She hadn't the time to finish the thought when there came a pained cry from behind her. Dorcus turned quickly from the pale body of her dead brother to the open room at her back and caught the sight of her companion writhing in agony with a sword thrust through his middle. She watched in horror as the bloody blade which ran him through was pulled violently back from his abdomen with a final twist of the steel saber and he crumpled to the ground.

"Eliezer!" she shouted, rushing towards him, but the swordsman prevented her, raising his bloodstained saber with the same promise of the cold metal which had pierced her companion's skin.

She watched helplessly from a little more than a sword's length away as Eliezer's blood spilled out, and her heart rent as her body numbed with pain which spilled from her heart out to her fingertips.

"Eliezer," she said again, overwhelmed with compassion for him.

She heightened her gaze to the young man standing in front of her, fully clothed in the uniform of the Royal Guard with his sword at the ready. He was slender and determined, his blue eyes filled with a cold, desolate sadness.

He took a step towards her, his sword a threatening sight, and she gave him a puzzled glance.

'What is he waiting for? Surely, he would not have me to watch Eliezer's death only to kill me. It would be much worse for us both to die at once.'

He took another step towards her, raising his sword to her neck, and she remained fearfully still.

'God, please...'