Prince of Fire

Chapter 4

The ones closest to the doors went down first. They screamed as they did so, the sound piercing the night sky, tainting the watchful moon and stars with guilt. Their blood sprayed into the air, splattering the walls and the ground in heavy droplets; a trickling fountain splashing into stilled water.

Guards rushed to intercept the blows of swords, knocked down flying daggers with an arch of their spears. But it was not enough; they were hopelessly outnumbered. And the assassins were skillful. They were shadows moving through the panicked crowd. A flash of silver here, a knocked arrow there, a throw from the back. Lords and ladies and children fell one after another.

"The Conqueror," hissed a deep voice from beside the King of Water. "You should not have taken the warning so lightly, Albert." It was Laurent's father, King William. He must have abandoned his throne in the chaos. "Now we will all die."

Albert's face was horror stricken, his blue eyes wide, jaw slack, lips trying to form words. He beheld the destruction of his people and said, "We do not die. We fight."

Laurent saw Queen Kaitlyn pick up a dagger from the floor, ignoring the blood coating it. She tore at the bottom of her dress, slicing away the fabric and the lace, then she kicked off her heeled shoes and charged into battle. Vicious as any predator, she stabbed the small blade of the weapon into black clothed men as they charged at her. She never missed. One of her thrusts pierced the chest of a man and blood sprouted as she drew the dagger away. He fell. Another charged at her from behind, but she spun like she did when she danced, and stabbed the blade into his arm. The sword dropped from his hand.

Pushing Victoria behind him, Laurent backed away toward the open doors in a daze.

It was a scene from the tales Laurent loved to read: The dark overlord led his army of demons to attack the king of a rich kingdom. The two mighty royals- the king and the dark overlord- would meet head on, draw their magic enchanted swords and fight. In the tales, the king always won.

But there was no army of demons. These were real men with beating hearts and souls.

And there was no dark overlord meeting the king at the head of the battle. The army attacked in surprise and the king's army were caught unawares.

Beside the Queen, King Albert snatched the sword from the fallen assassin. Water coated the blade when his hand touched it. He swung it in a graceful arc through the air, brought it down with a spin, and the black figures fell to their knees before him. Nearby assassins grabbed at their throats, water flowing from behind their masks. Some even tore them away as water gurgled from their lips. They all fell to the ground.

King William, snapping to attention from his disbelief, summoned fire to his hands. He aimed balls of blazing fire into the mob of black clothed men with expert precision. Their clothes went up in flames, screams leaving their lips as their skins burned. An assassin advanced on Laurent's father, seeing that he was unarmed. But the King willed the fire into the shape of a sword and met the blow of his attacker. After a few swings, the assassin fell, the skin where his clothes burned away charred.

Rose ducked beneath the white cloth draped over the tables, now stained red with the blood fallen servants, dragging the young Seth behind her. Thank the gods, none of the assassins seemed to be paying attention to the dessert table at the far end of the room.

A high pitched scream full of pain rose over all others. Laurent and Victoria both turned to where Kaitlyn fought and saw her clutch at her shoulder, blood pouring between her fingers. Her dress hung on her body in bloodied tatters, revealing cuts and bruises forming on her skin. The Queen fell to her knees, eyes sealed tight, and her cracked lips whispered words no one heard before the assassin stood before her brought his sword down. Blood sprayed from the deep slice it made in her neck.