Solace of the sun, p.24
Solace of the Sun, page 24
She put her hand on the trigger.
Boots skittered on the ground.
Someone was running up to the knights from behind.
A hand gripped a warhammer.
The knights turned around.
The newcomer plunged the hook into the lead knight’s neck. As quick as it came, so too did it leave. Blood burst from the gaping hole. The knight gurgled a gasp, falling to his knees and clutched the wound with both hands.
Judith stood there, his weapon coated red.
Robin gaped at him, too stunned to move.
The knights in mail armor picked their jaws up from the floor before readying their swords. The one to the outlaw’s right readied a stab.
Judith was quicker, sending a firm fist into the knight’s neck below his ear, sending him rearing away.
The other knight slashed his sword wildly, ripping through Judith’s gambeson.
Judith caught the next swing with a plate bracer, sending the blade back with a crashing ring, before he delivered a swift kick to the assailant’s center to drive him to the ground.
Sir Cirain unleashed a savage war cry, charging with his sword held high.
Judith flourished his weapon, a wicked grin painting his bloodied visage.
Robin took aim with the musket. The chaos proved too uncertain a target.
Cirain raised the sword for a downward slash, feinting into a descending stab aimed at Judith’s shoulder.
Judith countered it with a narrow sidestep, missing the blade by a hair before sending a sharp elbow to Cirain’s face.
With the knight stunned, Judith cocked his arm back before readying the blunt end of his hammer for two strikes against the foe’s breastplate—caving it in. He finished by pummeling his hook into the knight’s midsection, piercing the armor. As Cirain jerked back in pain, Judith lost his grip on the hammer.
Judith pulled out his knife before shouting at Robin, “Run, get out of here!”
The first knight writhed on the ground, blood spurting from his neck as his sabatons scratched the dirty ground in mad desperation. His gauntlets were soaked red.
Cirain raised a menacing sword toward Robin, struggling for air. The hammer was stuck in his armor, sunken into flesh.
She pointed the musket at Cirain, warning him off.
One of the chainmail knights grabbed Judith’s leg before pulling on it, sending the outlaw crashing to his knees with a heavy thud. Judith responded by slicing through the assailant’s cheek. A shrill scream left the knight, silenced by the blade piercing into his skull through an eye socket.
Cirain ripped the warhammer out of his stomach, tossing it to the ground. He rushed Judith, tackling the man to the ground with a fierce growl.
Judith threw the knight to the side before climbing atop him, sending a bloodied fist into the man’s nose.
The other knight in chainmail pulled a knife from his belt before plunging it into Judith’s side.
Robin’s heart sank.
She took aim with the musket, hands shaking as Judith howled in pain before head-butting the offender.
Cirain grabbed Judith’s head, sinking his plated thumbs into the man’s eyes.
A pained cry burst from Judith, stabbing wildly but only striking armor.
“Stop!” Robin cried. She fired, but saw to her dismay that she had wildly missed the mark. She fumbled for another cannister of black powder.
Judith found his target, blindly bringing the blade down to pierce Cirain’s mouth.
Cirain’s arms immediately grew limp, body falling still.
The last knight recovered, sending another wild stab at the man’s chest that sank through effortlessly.
Blood pooled in Judith’s mouth, which he spat upon the knight before pushing him away with a heavy shrug.
The two men wrestled before the knight climbed atop Judith and plunged his knife into the man’s chest. Blood flew as the outlaw tried in vain to push the man off.
Robin finished pushing the musket ball, taking aim. “Stop, please!”
The knight didn’t hear her, readying his knife for the final blow.
She fired.
An explosion rocked her hands and pushed her shoulder back. As the smoke cleared, the knight clutched the hole in his chest with a terrified cry.
Robin sprinted forward, smacking the musket’s butt into his head with desperate pants. She hit him again and again until the knight stopped struggling, one last ragged breath leaving his shattered jaw before he fell still.
When the dust settled, Robin was the last one standing.
“Judith,” she cried, dropping the musket as she kneeled by him.
Multiple stab wounds riddled his chest. Dark red tears ran from his injured eyes, and his breathing was shallow.
“What . . .”
“I’m here.” Robin clutched his hand.
“They’re all dead?” he asked.
“They are.”
“Perfect,” Judith spat.
“I-I-I need to get you to a healer,” she said. Judith’s skin was turning pale.
“Too late,” he said with a strained sigh. His free hand ran over his chest, wincing. “This . . . this is how it ends, huh?”
“No, it isn’t.”
He released another desperate breath before a shuddering gasp passed through his grit teeth. “Saint Macielle, the pain.”
Robin stared at him, not wanting to accept that such a fierce man was now facing the death he had avoided for so many years. “You can’t die. Not now!”
“Sorry, Robin. Guess—” He cut himself off with lung-racking coughs, blood continuing to spew from his open wounds.
The inevitable couldn’t be denied. There was a price to pay for all their recklessness, and it was Judith’s life.
It was time to say goodbye.
“You saved me,” she whispered solemnly.
“Guess I did—” He cut himself off with another series of weak coughs. “Alek, he . . . my knighting, asked me if I was s-serious about those oaths I took.” Judith clutched his chest desperately. “He was j-joking around, but I-I told him I was. I wanted to help others. Sacrifice myself for them. And I have.” He squeezed her hand.
“You would have made him proud,” Robin said, tears forming in the pit of her eye.
“I know.” Judith pulled her in close, his voice fading. “Stay with me, please. Until the end.”
For years, he had suffered the misfortune of being framed for murdering the only man he had ever loved. In Judith’s wake was a legacy of violence and misery, yet he had kept true to his knight’s oath. Robin would be the last to know the good grace of his charity.
As she stroked his black hair away from his pale face, the man visibly relaxed, unleashing a last, final breath.
Sir Judith Addington greeted the Sun Above with a content smile on his dying lips.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lip choked on his tobacco smoke as Robin approached in the darkened night, bringing a fist to his mouth to cover it as he desperately hacked up his lung. She watched him with bewilderment and made a quick mental note to never indulge in the foul stuff herself.
“By the seven seas,” he managed through a cough, “where’d you come from?”
“Business,” Robin replied tersely, not making eye contact.
“Right, well, welcome aboard, I suppose.”
She quietly thanked him before rushing onto the deck. Relief like a cold tide on a warm summer’s day washed over her. Safety. Captain Donaigo had made good on his promise not to surrender her, though he may change his mind if he learned of her dirty deeds committed hours prior. She had to rid herself of the gambeson before returning to the ship, for it was covered in the blood of a good man.
Judith’s limp body was all she could see as she brought her weary body to her hammock. She had to leave him there, in that dirty alley, even though he deserved better. It was hard to process that the man was truly gone. There was the emotional weight of the martyr and his sacrifice, for he had given his life to save her from rabid dogs baying for blood in response to their master’s murder.
For a moment in time, she imagined him coming with her to Navarra, and perhaps staying with her instead of returning to a land that held nothing but heartache for him. He could have taught her everything he knew, and they could have forged a new bond together. The world had left them alone with no bonds to speak of, but they could have become the family they were bereft of. Robin didn’t want to be on her own, and with Judith Addington, she could have been invincible. What evil men would have dared to make their trespasses against her when she had the slayer of the sea monster himself by her side?
But he was gone, like everyone else in her life.
It’s my fault, she thought. Just like how Mother’s death was my fault, just like Father’s. If I had done things differently, they would all be here now. Is this the fate of everyone who enters my life? What if Valevie and Natalia die as well? I should have told them to come with me.
Am I cursed to walk this world, forever alone, because to know me is to resign oneself to death? Will everything I do always end in misery and pain, no matter how well-intentioned I am? I’ve sullied my hands with blood in the most righteous ways possible, but what if that wasn’t enough? What if the years go on and I remain this damaged husk, no matter how hard I try to fix things?
The silent questions rang through her mind as she closed her eyes and faded to black, her last wish one of desperation to be rid of this deplorable country once and for all.
☀
The incessant ringing of bells jolted Robin from her sleep, and her eyes opened to a dull light illuminating the dank surroundings. Sailors awoke from their stupors and rushed toward the ladders leading above deck, quietly complaining about the noise. Collecting herself with a tired groan, Robin followed.
The ship’s crew gathered on the side of the deck to peer into the harbor, all speculating about what the bells could mean. They were coming from inside the city, and confused eyes peered into the darkened streets.
A flash of orange creeping out into the night sky gave them their answer.
Fire.
“What building is that?” one sailor asked.
“Dunno, but it’s gotta be big if it’s touchin’ the sky.”
“Aye yeah, look at it burn. This place is one big tinder box, ain’t it?”
“They’ve gotta stop the spread soon enough, else the entire city’ll go up in flames.”
Sailors on other boats gazed and muttered to themselves, all speculating on the case of the fire. Somebody in the distance shouted indiscernible orders. Smoke stung their nostrils.
“Oi, Lip, think we should get ready to cast off in case the flames reach the harbor?”
“Aye. I’ll wake the captain.”
“I am here,” a familiar Navarran accent said.
Heads turned around to watch as Fernande Donaigo stepped forward to peer at the flames, and the captain unleashed a sigh. “Luad’a protect us.”
Lip appeared at the man’s side. “Orders, Cap’n?”
“It’ll reach the ship if the harbor goes up in flames!” one sailor said.
Donaigo nodded. “Make ready to cast off. We will sit in the water until the flames are gone.”
The Mariana’s crew broke off, readying the ship to pull away from the dock. Robin desired to help, but feared her lack of experience would be more of a hindrance than a boon.
Donaigo joined her at the edge of the deck, peering at the fires slowly spreading across Hieran. “It is a good thing the Brotherhood is here to contain the flames,” he said.
Robin grunted. She wasn’t confident in that sentiment.
People rushed out onto the streets, seeking the refuge of water. Some of them carried buckets, filling them before retreating into the dark to combat the fires. Vagrants slowly filled the port, their hacking coughs echoing across the sky.
Just like Corrin.
“Clear away!” a voice shouted through the streets. A cadre of men holding torches appeared in view, some of them atop horseback. Most wore black tabards over chainmail, commanded by fully plated knights. Archers marched alongside them in disciplined columns.
“Do not let the ships leave!” one knight shouted. “Burn them down! No heretics will escape!”
The sailors clamored, asking each other what the man had said. The intent was soon becoming clear as archers took up formation and readied their arrows, flames licking the tips.
“Loose!”
A hail of lit arrows cascaded upon the docked ships, impacting decks and hulls.
“Down!” Donaigo shouted. “Down!”
The command echoed across the ship, and the sailors hit the deck while covering their heads. Multiple arrows scattered across the deck. One impacted a crate, and the mean nearby threw a heavy cloth on it to stifle the flames.
“What the fuck are they doing?” Lip shouted.
“Buckets!” Donaigo commanded as he rose to his knees. “Idle hands, grab buckets! Throw water onto the flames!” He repeated the order in Navarran, and the sailors ran to the edges of the ship with pails in hand. They tied them with ropes before lowering the buckets down into the churning waters below to collect what was needed.
Robin knew she had to help. A sailor thrust a full bucket in her arms, and water splashed over her shaking hands.
They’re purging Hieran. Just like they purged Corrin. But why?
Robin froze in place, blood running cold.
Because we killed Alistair.
Robin could do nothing but watch in petrified horror as the knights continued to burn the city to the ground. There was no effort being made to quell the roaring fires that would soon threaten every building. More people flooded into the harbor, and the other docked ships began preparations to cast off. They all had the same idea, and that was not to perish in the growing madness.
This is my fault.
The orange light of flames illuminated the city’s skyline and all its denizens as they stood and watched, embers and smoke floating through the night. There was no end to it, and panic was rising. Gasps and shrieks erupted as the massive throng of armored men carrying torches pushed through, trampling through the crowds and casting more fires onto the structures. “Burn it all!” was the command echoed down the harbor. Wails of terror were the response.
“It’s their own bloody city! Why are they burning it down?” a sailor asked.
“Damn zealots have always been insane!” another man replied.
The continuing shrieks of citizens and the shouts of bloodthirsty knights interrupted their speculation. Robin tore her gaze to the other ships in the harbor. Some had yet to cast off. Knights charged the docks and their torches onto the ships within reach. Sailors panicked and cried.
One carrack that had lowered its sails caught on fire by a volley of lit arrows tearing through. Flames quickly licked up the oiled cloth, which transferred to the mast, and headed downward. The crew of the ship tried desperately to throw buckets of water at the flames to stop their spread, but as it overwhelmed them, the call came, “Abandon ship!” Sailors threw themselves off the doomed vessel into the waters below, only to be met with the Brotherhood shooting volleys of arrows at them.
“Muskets!” Donaigo commanded. “Shoot them if they throw the fire on us!”
Men from the lower decks emerged, handing up matchlocks and black powder to the awaiting deckhands. As the Mariana continued to push away from the dock in its desperate escape, the makeshift musketeers scrambled to the edge of the deck. It was not a moment too soon, as a line of men-at-arms had come onto the docks with torches ready to be thrown at the ship.
“Stop them!”
A volley of thunder strikes came, and a multitude of soldiers fell over in place as a cloud of white smoke emerged from the musket line. It did not deter the ones left, and the Brotherhood threw their torches onto the deck.
One landed to Robin’s right, scattering across a collection of nets and rope, and she threw water onto the flames before they caught on. She rushed to the ones raising and lowering buckets into the sea below to replace it, trying to keep balanced as the ship swayed across the black sea.
More musket fire emerged, cracking across the air. As the volley ended, the Mariana began making distance from the remaining knights and men-at-arms, who retreated from the dock and turned their attentions to the other ships yet to cast off. Lit arrows continued to land around them, but were becoming sparse.
“Rodrige!” Donaigo shouted. “Are we away from the flames?”
“Looks like it, Captain!” came a voice from above deck.
“Hard to larboard!
Robin nearly stumbled as the ship turned wildly. Hands clamped onto the railing to keep herself from falling over until the ship steadied as it pointed away from the harbor.
“Wind’s on our backs, Captain!”
“All hands, make sail!”
Sailors scrambled to the masts, climbing the rope nets and undoing the lines wrapped around the bundled sails. They cascaded in a loud mess of snapping fabric, wind blowing against them. The Mariana made speed, barreling toward the open waters.
“Captain, the blockade!” Lip shouted.
“Ready the cannons! If they will not let us pass, we will fire on them!”
The clamor on the ship died down as everyone turned to look at Fernande Donaigo.
“Cap’n, are we attacking the Retanian fleet?”
“We have no choice,” Donaigo said. “They try to burn down my ship! I will destroy theirs if they think to sink me!” He snapped his gaze to the deckhands. “Load the cannons!”
Men hastened to obey orders, the entire deck a cascade of shouts and tense attitudes.
The sound of a massive object crashing into the nearby water interrupted them.
“What was that?” shouted a crew member.
Donaigo’s voice boomed across the ship, “We are under attack! Rodrige, hard to starboard! Ready the larboard cannons.”
The ship lurched under Robin’s feet again, and she turned to see the barely visible war galleys approaching them. She looked to the other fleeing ships, for they too had come under fire from the ships of Retra, preventing their escape. Their own crews were shouting in disarray, and the chaos grew. A massive bolt crashed into the hull of a small caravel, tearing a massive hole and halting the vessel in its tracks.
