CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Kendrick sat huddled against a wall, hidden inside the passage beneath Silesia, Godfrey, Akorth, Fulton, Brom, Atme, Srog and Sandara with him. The eight of them had been holed up there all night, hiding out from the slew of Empire forces looking for them. All night Kendrick listened to the hurried footsteps of soldiers scrambling, eager to find them. But they were too well hidden, thanks to Sandara.

They had all spent the night recuperating, Kendrick sleeping for the first time, stretching out his weary limbs, as did the others. Sandara had given them each water and wine, and had applied various salves to help heal their wounds. Although sore and stiff, Kendrick was beginning to feel back to his old self. It was surreal to be here, to feel alive again. He had been sure he would never come down from that cross alive again.

Kendrick looked over at his brother Godfrey with a whole new respect. He lay slumped against the wall, Akorth and Fulton beside him, three people in the world who Kendrick would never have imagined would aid in his rescue. Kendrick knew that Godfrey did not have the martial skills of a warrior—but he had to admire him for what he did have: craftiness, and supreme survival skills. After all, of all of them, Godfrey was the only one who had managed to survive, and to free them. He also had a lot of heart. Disguised as an enemy soldier, Godfrey could have ran away; instead, he risked death to come back for all of them. It raised Godfrey in Kendrick’s eyes; he thought of him now as much as a warrior as any of his compatriots in the Silver. And he owed him his life.

“I have to thank you,” Kendrick said, leaning over to Godfrey.

Godfrey looked up, surprised.

“You are my brother,” Godfrey said. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Besides, we didn’t do much.”

“You are wrong,” Kendrick said. “You did a tremendous thing. You displayed bravery and valor. Most men in your position would have turned and ran. But you came back for us.”

Godfrey shrugged.

“I shirked my duties my entire life,” he said. “It was the least I could do.”

“The hardest part of all of it was not having another drink,” Akorth chimed in, smiling.

“This hero stuff is hard,” Fulton chimed in. “If it came with a few pints of ale, it might be more tolerable.”

Kendrick couldn’t help smiling back.

“Don’t worry,” Brom said, leaning over. “If we make it out of here alive, I’ll see to it you get an entire tavern named just for you.”

“You are a wishful thinker,” Akorth said. “We are completely surrounded. There are thousands of troops out there. We have nowhere to go. How will we survive this?”

“We’re not,” Fulton answered, shaking his head. “We’re going to waste away in this tunnel, like a bunch of rats, and die here.”

“Either that,” Akorth said, “or surrender.”

Kendrick shifted, agitated, having grappled with the same thoughts himself all night.

Kendrick looked over at Sandara, who sat against the wall, looking calmly down. She was even more beautiful in the dim light of this cave, beneath the flickering of the torch, than when he had seen her up on the cross. His heart beat faster looking at her.

“You helped us just as much,” he said to her. “You risked your life for the enemy.”

“You are not my enemy,” she said. “I serve Andronicus out of obligation, not desire.”

“Still, you risked death,” Kendrick said. “For all of us.”

Sandara lowered her eyes.

“I did what anyone else would have done,” she said.

Kendrick felt his heart pulling for her, felt a stronger attraction to her than he had to anyone in his life. He wondered if she felt something for him, too.

“If we ever get out of here,” he said to her. “I will find a way to repay you.”

She slowly shook her head.

“No, my Lord,” she said. “You already have. You allowed me to take action, to finally run from Andronicus’ army. I should have done so long ago. I may die, with the rest of you. But at least now I will die as a free woman, and not as a slave.”

“What is all this talk of death?” Atme boomed out. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t plan on dying on this day.”

“Nor do I,” Kendrick chimed in.

“Nor I,” said Srog and Brom.

“I’m fine with not dying,” Fulton said, raising a hand in agreement. “After all, I haven’t had my full of ale. I’m not ready to go to heaven yet.”

Heaven?” Akorth laughed. “Aren’t you presumptuous?”

Fulton reddened.

“Well if I’m going to hell, you’re coming on my coattails,” he answered.

“I’m paving my own way to hell,” Akorth replied.

“Why don’t we all pave our way together?” Kendrick asked.

They all turned to him, hearing the seriousness in his voice, falling silent.

“What do you mean?” Godfrey asked.

“I mean, I, for one, do not plan on lying here to die like a dog. Nor am I prepared to end my life in surrender, so that Andronicus can torture us.”

“Nor I!” Atme shot back.

Kendrick, feeling emboldened, sat up straighter, feeling a new power rise within him.

“Then I say we fight!” Kendrick said.

“Fight?” Akorth asked, puzzled.

“We may all die,” Kendrick said. “But we will die together. On our feet. Now is our moment, before we waste away. We will go out there and surprise them, and kill as many Empire as we can. And come what may, we will go out in one final charge of valor!”

The others cheered, jumping to their feet, each drawing their weapons.

Sandara stood and nodded solemnly to Kendrick. She walked to him, lay her hands on his forehead, leaned in and kissed it.

“May the gods be in your favor,” she said, “in this lifetime and the next.”

She crossed the room, undid the bolts, and opened the secret chamber door for them.

Kendrick led the others as they charged from the chamber. They emerged from the black hole into the bright light of morning, exiting in the Silesian courtyard, Kendrick squinting against the sun. There was a large group of unsuspecting Empire soldiers before them, and they all charged them with a great battle cry, and before the soldiers could figure out what was happening, they had slaughtered all of them. There were quickly a dozen dead.

Hundreds of Silesian captives, stood nearby and watched, bound to each other. Kendrick had an idea.

“FREE OUR BROTHERS!” Kendrick yelled.

The group of men ran to them and sliced their ropes, freeing one after the other.

The men broke free with a shout and ran and grabbed weapons off of the downed soldiers, and off of the corpses lying on the battlefield. The group grew larger by the second, each person freeing someone else. Soon there numbers swelled to over a hundred men.

The main camp of Empire soldiers, on the far side of the courtyard, were only beginning to realize what was happening, and they began to turn at the sound of the shouts. They clearly had not been expecting this. They stood there, shocked.

“CHARGE!” Kendrick shouted.

Hundreds of Silesians, led by Kendrick, let out a great shout, racing across the courtyard with weapons held high and vengeance in their eyes. Srog, Brom, Atme, Godfrey, Akorth and Fulton ran beside them, across the courtyard, towards the distant group of Empire soldiers, who now turned and charged for them.

Kendrick knew they had no chance of winning. But he no longer cared. This was what it was all about. Honor. Glory. Valor. He had fire in his veins, and he was prepared to fight the battle of his life.

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