Chapter 140 - Her Tormentor

Nathaniel's group met the pursuers of the King about half an hour later. The leader was a Falumor in pricy clothes. Hardly any of them wore armor, but it would have only slowed them down, as their weapons were made for fast and nimble attacks.

Metal clashed against each other as the two parties engaged in battle. The numbers were on Nathaniel's side, but that soon changed as the tired soldiers fell one after another.

At first it was only one, getting pierced through by the opponent's spear. Then another tried to avoid an attack, but slid from his horse and got trampled over. The third miscalculated the heaviness of his injuries and bled to death. The fourth, fifth, and sixth were just unlucky. The seventh managed to kill two opponents at once before he noticed the sword stuck in his lungs. Finally, the eighth gave his life for a healthier comrade to fight on.

Nathaniel's face was grim, his sword like lightning striking down again and again. The injuries limited his movements, but he made up for it with experience and a sharp intuition. Despite his exhaustion, he was a deadly foe, who knew how to use the energy he had efficiently.

Guarding his left flank was Aston, panting harshly. He wasn't used to continuous fighting, and his magic was nearly depleted, making him feel a bit dizzy. It was hard for him to keep up with his one opponent, still he barely managed to block any attack pointed at Nathaniel's weak side.

Another of their soldiers fell. He had stopped one attacker from slipping through their blockade to go after the King but paid with his life. Now Sam took his place, continuing to cross swords with a Falumor soldier.

To nobody's surprise, all the pursuers of the King were of Falumor origin. Despite the Queen taking over the palace, few icelandic guards would consent with being sent to kill their King. But the Queen now had other soldiers at her disposal. After all, before she was the Queen, she was already a Princess of the Falumore Empire, an Empire that was bigger and more dangerous than the Icelands.

As the fight continued, the Falumor soldiers also sustained wounds and losses, but fortune was slowly turning to their side. Now it was six against eleven, a bad situation for the Icelanders. Most of the horses had also been killed in the fight, leaving the warriors to fight on b.a.r.e ground.

As Nathaniel's horse died, he gritted his teeth and jumped off the falling animal to cross swords with the last rider again. Their blades collided, and the smaller, dark-skinned man laughed. "You're like a fly in the mud struggling to live. Just what makes you fight so hard? Hm?"

He increased the pressure. Hardly keeping up, Nathaniel noticed that this soldier had not even a scratch on his uniform, like he didn't fight before. And he vaguely resembled someone he knew. Suddenly, Nathaniel was enlightened, and retreated a step. "You are one of the Queen's brothers."

"So what?"

The Prince of Falumor didn't leave him be and caught up before Nathaniel could catch his breath. The latter felt like he was being toyed with. All his strikes were parried easily, while the attacks were just on the brink of what he could take, always pointing at his weak side. While warmth slid down his side, Nathaniel suddenly felt cold.

"Falumor was always satisfied with being the Iceland's ally. What changed?", he managed to press through gritted teeth after a few collisions of their blades.

"How do you know this wasn't planned from the start?", the outlandish Prince retorted with a grin.

"You could have taken over anytime. There was no reason to wait till now, was there?", Nathaniel rejected the thought, and with a sudden burst of strength, pushed his enemy away for a breath of air. Sadly, the pause didn't take long. The other Prince was hard on his heels.

"Ha! As if we would weaken our nation just for this tiny piece of land!" As if he wanted to punish him for underestimating the Falumors, Kadir's sword shot forwards and he landed a blow on Nathaniel's left leg. Blood splashed in the air, and Nathaniel's leg gave in.

"Pitiful little Prince. Oh, yes, I know who you are", Kadir said, an evil glint in his eyes, and circled him with his horse. As Nathaniel followed him with his eyes, he noticed that the rest of his soldiers laid face down in the mud, their bodies unmoving. He recalled their names, their exhaustion but compliance when he forced them to go into another battle. He knew that it was a dangerous decision back then. However, he didn't allow himself to feel guilty now. He had to be wary of his foe, notice every movement, since it could be the last thing he ever saw. There was not time for distraction, no tile for feelings now.

Even the relieve to see Aston still alive was forced down. Out of all the warriors, the Falumors had kept the two Princes alive. Even though, Nathaniel doubted they would let them leave this place alive.

Aston had a blade on his neck, forced on all four by the boot of the soldier behind him. It was a humiliating position, and his hands were fisted as he fought against the boot that was pushing him down even further so he would kiss the mud. Aston's blue eyes were filled with endless rage, but also with a terror and shame he hardly ever had to bear with.

When he met Nathaniel's gaze, his mouth was pressed into a thin line. Then he nodded ever so lightly. Nathaniel's apathic eyes didn't change, as if he didn't notice the signal. Though he had blood all over him and was on his knees, pressing a hand on the leg injury, his gaze was distanced like all this was but a play, a game that could be changed any moment. Nobody knew what was going on behind this mask of his.

The Falumor Prince had ended his circle, and now looked down at him with disappointment. "How boring. I wonder why my sister was so afraid of you. Where is the mysterious power of the monster, huh? This magic that can turn everyone to dust? I guess my sister exaggerated. What a shame."

His lips turned down, Kadir seemed to sincerely mourn for what he thought to be a tough opponent for himself. "I thought I had finally found someone worth fighting. But you are just a poor little boy who terrified his mother by looking like her tormentor. You are not even worth the time I thought about you."

Looking like her tormentor? Nathaniel's brows furrowed, the first emotional response since the start of Kadir's monologue. He knew that the other wanted to provoke a reaction, but he was still getting curious. Remembering the paper Sam had given him, he finally opened his mouth, glaring coldly at the opponent. "I don't look like anyone."

Kadir's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, you do. Very much so, actually. I saw him only once, but you two look exactly the same. Much too pale and sickly thin with these grotesque red eyes. The ugliest men I ever saw in my life. Your father, that is."