A Joust of Knights

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Godfrey ran, Merek, Ario, Akorth, and Fulton beside him, out from the shadows of the city courtyard, away from the Empire army pouring through the gates, determined to save Silis. As he reached an alleyway and prepared to duck into it, he turned back and looked. He was both delighted and scared to see the hordes of Empire soldiers rushing through the gates, slaughtering Volusian soldiers left and right. On the one hand, it was all thanks to him and his men, and it was exactly what he wanted; on the other hand, the storm he had unleashed looked like it was going to kill everything in its path—including him.

He still could not understand why Empire was fighting Empire, and as he took a close look at their armor, he realized it was a different sort of Empire armor, all black, their helmets with pointy noses. He looked up high, at the banners they were waving, and he noticed they were bearing a different insignia. He struggled to read it.

“What army is this?” Merek asked, wondering aloud the same thing he was.

“Why does Empire kill Empire?” Ario asked.

Godfrey squinted, trying to make out the letters on the banner, written in the ancient language of the Empire; he had been schooled in it as a boy, but he had cut too many classes, sneaking out for the taverns. Now he wished he had studied harder.

Godfrey tried to decipher it through his drunken haze, his heart still pounding, still covered in sweat from their crazy feat of opening the gate and letting these people in. They were getting closer, but he was dying to know who they were before disappearing.

Finally, he made out the insignia, the words: The Knights of the Seven.

It all came rushing back to him, all of his history lessons.

“They represent the four horns and two spikes,” Godfrey said. “They are from the far side of the Empire. They would not attack Volusia unless she had done something to betray them.” He finally understood. “It’s a personal vendetta,” he added. “They are going to kill everyone here—including us.”

Godfrey watched as more men—an endless stream—flooded into the city, slaughtering the overwhelmed Volusians left and right, throwing axes into their backs as they ran, trampling them with their horses, a great army of death and destruction taking over the city like ants. He watched as the army approached a group of slaves, and he was hopeful to see them liberate them. But he was shocked and outraged to watch the Empire army slaughter the defenseless slaves, too, all shackled to each other in their path.

Maybe, Godfrey wondered, he should never have let them in. Perhaps they were even worse than the Volusians.

“They haven’t come to liberate us,” Akorth said. “But to murder everything in sight!”

Godfrey, thinking the same thing, watched them topple an immense statue of Volusia: the fifty-foot statue, made of marble, slowly fell, landing on top of dozens of Volusian soldiers, crushing them and shattering with a huge explosion, the pieces scattering in every direction. Another division of soldiers rushed forward and began setting fire to everything in sight.

“There!” Akorth yelled.

Godfrey turned and saw him pointing to the harbor on the far side of the courtyard; there was a row of ships, sitting there empty.

“We can make it to the harbor!” he added. “We can still slip out in the confusion, before anyone knows we are here. This is our chance!”

They all looked to Godfrey, and Godfrey knew they were right. They were at a crossroads: to their left, the alleyways, and a chance to free Silis. To their right, finally, freedom.

Not long ago Godfrey would have jumped at the chance for escape, would have run in his drunken haze, jumped on the boat, shoved off, and would have sailed anywhere the tides would take him.

But now, Godfrey was changing; something was stirring within him. Something he hated within himself, but he could not control. Some damn thing which felt a lot like chivalry. Like honor.

“Silis,” Godfrey said. “She saved us when she didn’t need to. She did right by us,” he said, turning to the others, realizing he was speaking from his heart. “We vowed to help her, and we cannot abandon her now. She will die.”

“We have helped her,” Akorth countered. “We have helped destroy her city—she got what she wanted.”

Godfrey shook his head.

“She did not want death,” he said. “She was not expecting this. They are going to kill her, to kill everyone in sight.” Godfrey sighed, hating what he was going to say, but feeling he had no choice. “We cannot turn our backs on her now.”

They all gaped at him, disbelieving.

“That is freedom there,” Akorth said, pointing, frantic. “Do you not understand?”

“You disappoint me,” Fulton said. “You, Godfrey, of all people, infected with this trait called honor?”

Godfrey looked back firmly, resigned.

“I will not leave this city,” he said, “not without saving her. If you wish to go, I understand. I won’t stop you—and I don’t blame you.”

The others exchanged a glance, then finally, Akorth shook his head.

“We’re too damn stupid to let you die alone,” Akorth said.

“If we survive this,” Fulton added, “you owe me the best damn drink of my life.”

Godfrey smiled wide, as the others clasped him on the shoulder and they all turned and ran, ducking into the alleyways before the army could catch up.

They darted through the alleyways, twisting and turning, taking shortcuts, clinging to the walls and hiding in the shadows, until they finally reached Silis’ palace, still safe on the far side of the city. The Empire army had not reached it yet, though Godfrey could hear their shouting not far behind, and he knew they would reach it soon.

Godfrey ran through the wide, arched opening into her palace, running up the steps three at a time, racing past the guards and not stopping as they shouted at him. He ran up floor after floor until finally, gasping for breath, he reached her floor and sprinted down the hall to her chamber, the guards close behind.

He burst open her door, its wood shattering, and found her lying there, relaxing on a chaise lounge. She jumped up, startled, as they all burst in—and at the same time, her guards ran up from behind and grabbed Godfrey.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

Several more of her guards poured into the room, surrounding Godfrey and his men.

“Volusia is overrun!” Godfrey called out, gasping for breath. “Come with us! Quickly! There is still a chance to escape!”

Silis, eyes widening in shock, turned and rushed to the doors to her balcony and threw them open. As she did, a wave of noise entered the room—the calamitous shouts of men killing and ransacking.

She stepped back from the balcony, horrified, as she looked out, and Godfrey knew she must be witnessing the devastation to her city.

“Let him go,” she commanded her men, and Godfrey was relieved to feel the hands off of him.

She turned and examined Godfrey, staring into his eyes, and her face filled with gratitude and surprise.

“You came back for me,” she said, realizing. “You risked your lives for me. Why?”

“Because I promised I would,” Godfrey replied truthfully.

She laid a soft hand on his wrist.

“I shall never forget this,” she said.

“Let’s go now!” Merek called out. “We still have a chance to make the ships!”

She shook her head.

“We would never reach them,” she said. “We’d never make it out of the harbor.”

Godfrey suddenly realized she was right, and realized that by coming here, by acting selflessly, he had actually saved his own life.

She looked at them and spoke earnestly.

“I have the perfect place, built for times like this,” she said. “A secret chamber, hidden far beneath this palace. You will join me.”

“My lady!” one of her men protested. “There is not room for them all!”

She turned to him coldly.

“They came back for me,” she said. “I will make room.”

She turned and hurried through the room, and they all followed her as she opened a secret door in the wall and entered a hidden spiral staircase. As Godfrey followed her in with the others, the stone wall closed perfectly behind them, concealing them in the darkness. Silis grabbed a torch from the wall and led them down, flight after flight, deeper and deeper into the blackness. As they went, Godfrey could hear the shouting of the army getting closer, surrounding the palace.

When they finally stopped Godfrey was confused, as the stairs seemed to end in a stone wall. But Silis nodded to her guards, they pulled a lever, and the stone wall slid open, revealing a hidden door, eight feet thick. They pushed it open with all their might, as Godfrey and the others watched, amazed.

Silis turned to them and smiled.

“Loyalty,” she said, “has its rewards.”