David Dalglish - The Prison of Angels

He stopped, leaning farther out the window and squinting.

“Aurry, get over here,” he said. When she did, he pointed to the street. “What is that?”

She joined him, and with her sharper eyes she spotted men marching up the road toward the front of the castle. He estimated at least four hundred, maybe five. They waved no banners to show their allegiance, but their tunics looked familiar. He couldn’t place it, but Aurelia could.

“Kevin,” she said. “Those are Kevin Maryll’s men.”

The two shared a look. There was no valid reason for Kevin to be marching so many men into the castle. No reason but one. As they watched, craning their necks down and to the right so they might see, they noticed Kevin walked ahead of the throng, talking with the castle guards. As the doors opened to let him in, he stabbed one of the guards, then rushed inside. His soldiers followed, using their very bodies to prevent its closure. Harruq swore as he jerked his head back inside the room.

“Time to go,” Harruq said. “Make us a portal and take us somewhere far, far away.”

“What of Susan?” Aurelia asked as she began the motions with her hands.

“I’ll come back for her once you three are safe.”

Her look said she wasn’t happy with the idea of him remaining behind, but she focused on casting her spell. Harruq waited, expecting the familiar blue line to rip open before him, tearing into reality and creating a gateway to somewhere well-known to his wife. But instead nothing happened. He blinked, glanced around thinking he’d missed something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Aurelia frowned, and her brow furrowed as she concentrated harder.

“Something is…strange,” she said. Again she tried casting the spell, and again nothing happened. Harruq watched, his anxiety increasing tenfold.

“I think I know what’s going on,” she said after a third time yielded similar results. To test, she went to the window. Ice surrounded her hand, forming into a thin lance that she hurled out the window toward the courtyard. Barely an inch beyond the window ledge the ice dissolved away as if it had never been. Harruq grimaced, confused but knowing that whatever it meant, it wasn’t good.

“The entire castle is surrounded by some sort of invisible…wall,” she explained. “No magical spell can make it through without disappating. Worse, it’s disrupting any sort of translocational magic. I’ve tried opening portals, even to somewhere inside the castle, but they won’t take. I can’t get us out, Harruq.”

He could only follow half of what she said, but he understood the deeper meaning behind it.

“Kevin’s ready for us,” Harruq said. “He knew you would be with me.”

The two shared a glance, each thinking the same thing. If Kevin was ready for them, if he’d gone through all the trouble to trap them there, then he wanted them for a reason. Most likely, he wanted them dead.

“He seeks the throne for himself,” Aurelia said. “We’re just obstacles in his way.”

“We’re more than obstacles.”

Harruq opened the door, to where the four guards waited. All four looked nervous.

“Steward,” one said. “We thought to interrupt, but weren’t sure.”

He didn’t need to ask about what. From the floor below they could hear the faint sounds of steel hitting steel. Kevin’s men were swarming the castle, killing all of the guards.

“We’ve been betrayed,” Harruq said. “All of you, get in here. Guard the little prince with your lives.”

Despite their apparent nervousness, the men saluted and hurried inside. Harruq glanced up and down the hall, his mind racing.

“We can’t hold them off forever,” Aurelia said, coming up behind him. Aubrienna clutched her mother’s hand, her eyes wide with fear at the sudden commotion.

“Sure we can,” Harruq said. “But we don’t need to. There’s a scepter back in our room. If I can get to it, we can summon a whole army of angels to protect us.”

“What about Susan?”

Harruq looked back into the room. He couldn’t get the scepter and Susan, at least not both at the same time. Aurelia could go, but that left the children with only four guards to hold off Kevin’s men until one of them returned.

“There’s nothing we can do,” he said. “We’ll just have to hope she lives. Stay here. I don’t care if they brought a thousand men. You’re strong enough to stop them.”

He kissed her, then bent down to wrap Aubrienna in a hug.

“You stay safe,” he said to her, kissing her cheek. Standing, he drew his swords and went over the layout of the castle in his mind. No matter which way he went, he’d need to go down the stairs to the lower floor. Presumably the floor was already lost, the guards within overrun. If only he could get down there without need of the stairs, bypassing the bulk of the forces…

He looked to Aurelia.

“The outside of the castle’s been blocked,” he said. “But not inside, right?”

His wife gave him a confused look, then understood.

“I won’t be able to get you back up,” she said.

“Leave that part to me.”

Aurelia went to nearest door, pushing it open. Inside were simple beds, clean and unused for some time. Gathering her energy, Aurelia unleashed it in a focused point, blasting a hole in the stone floor just large enough for Harruq to hop through. Peering down, he found another room, this one far fancier, reserved for visiting lords and ladies. Beside the bed lay a heavy gentlemen, blood pooling around his throat. Harruq shook his head, then turned back to his wife.

“Love you,” he said before hopping down. He landed atop the bed, rolled off, and then drew his swords.

“Should have put my armor on after all,” he muttered as he slid to the door, which was slightly ajar. Glancing out, he saw soldiers rushing down the hall, their tabards bearing the Maryll family crest. All wore heavy chain mail for protection. Harruq winced again.

“Really, really should have put on my armor.”

When he decided the hall was as empty as it would get, he burst out, then spun in an attempt to orientate himself. To his left were over fifty men filtering into the stairwell leading up. On his right were only a few, and they froze at his sudden appearance. Harruq barreled down the hall toward them, relying on surprise to take them out quickly. The first tried to stab him but woefully underestimated Harruq’s speed. Without slowing, Harruq slashed his throat and sidestepped his collapsing body, swatting aside the second’s hesitant defense before shoving his swords into the man’s stomach. The chainmail resisted, but the magic in Harruq’s swords was strong, and they pushed through to pierce flesh.

With a roar, Harruq yanked them out, kicked away the body, and slammed both blades down against the paltry attempt to block by a third soldier. The steel shattered, Harruq’s ancient blades flaring red as they continued on, chopping through either side of the man’s shoulders to crush in his collarbones. Using the swords to maneuver the corpse, he flung it behind him, into the path of the soldiers breaking off from the stairwell.

The way was clear, and he ran like mad toward his room. From all sides he heard scattered combat, and he tried not to think on how many died. Would Kevin execute the servants, too? The cooks, the cleaners, the errand boys, all to hide his crime? He prayed not, but the screams he heard said otherwise.

A glance behind him showed at least fifteen men in chase. The breath in his lungs felt like fire, and again Harruq chastised himself for growing so lazy. Orcish heritage might have granted him extra muscles and stamina most men could only dream of, but it meant little when he spent two thirds his day in a chair, chugging down wine to keep himself from going out of his mind. The stone walls were a blur as he ran. He turned a corner, slamming into a group of four soldiers.