Camelot

Thirteen - Matilda

Thirteen – Matilda

 

“Forget to check the tunnels did we?” asked the same man.

His lips were right near my ear, making me shiver with fear as he spoke. He held the dagger tighter, causing me to grip onto the hand that held it there.

“Oh look, it’s the same room we killed ‘er father in,” said a second man.

I recognised his voice as the man with greasy hair who had interrogated my father the night of the attack. He stepped around the man holding me and stood before me, grinning at my capture. From up close, he disgusted me even more. His teeth were all rotting and black and his eyes sunk into the back of his head.

“Looks like you’re gonna meet the same fate eh?” he laughed.

At that moment I wasn’t too sure what I was doing. I could have acted quickly, taking the men out one by one as they appeared with a simple incantation. But now there were three against one and the chance of escaping with my life was much slimmer. It was almost as though they had cast an enchantment on me and I had been frozen.

“Oh she won’t die here,” said the first man, tightening his grip once again. “We must take her with us. We’ll make a spectacle of her death, might even make some good money out of it.”

The greasy haired man and another man who must have been standing behind me chuckled aloud, agreeing with their apparent leader.

“Yeah good one!” said the other man.

“You will not get a cent out of my death!” I growled, struggling against my captor.

“Going to be difficult are we?” asked my captor, pressing the dagger deeper into my throat. “I guess we could always kill you now?”

“Good luck,” I whispered, beginning to draw focus my magic.

I smiled at the greasy haired man standing directly in front of me, once he saw the smile his bemused face suddenly dropped and he began stepping backwards.

“Ahatian,” I said softly, low enough to not be heard.

The heating spell took hold and the dagger at my throat suddenly began to smoulder, causing the man holding it to cry out in pain before dropping it to the floor and clutching his hand.

The heavy footsteps beside me alerted me of the unknown man running towards me ready to attack. I turned to face him and once again smiled.

“Ic ƥé wiƥdrífe!” I yelled.

His body flew across the room and crashed into the flimsy wooden screen that I often got dressed behind. The man groaned and rolled around amongst the broken wood.

The man who had dropped the dagger lunged for me again, which I quickly sidestepped causing him to run into the bed frame.

The last man was cowering at the door, his hands shaking too much to get it undone.

“Oferswing,” I spoke.

His head smacked against the wooden door, causing him to become knocked out cold.

The man who I’d cast into the screen was still lying on the floor, with the only movement in the room being the man who killed my father standing in front of me. I enchanted the dagger so that it was hovering in the air, just in front of his throat just like he had it against me.

“Why did you attack my kingdom?” I demanded.

The man stayed silent, clearly not quite convinced that I would actually kill him.