Traitors everywhere

"Hurry, dam you!" The man cursed impatiently at the two as they left the carraige. Francois barked widley at the man. He shut the door and the Labradors whining became muffled.

They stepped out into the middle of the armed group. They were the soldiers, fully armoured and carrying an assorted mix of swords, spears and pole-axes. Zephiels own personal guard stood, weapons readied, to murder their king.

"Drop your weapons" The soldier growled, Zephiel did as he was ordered, unsheathing his sword and placing it carefully on the road. Rickard didn't move.

"Drop that sword or I will kill you." The soldier said.

"You are fools." Rickard was cool in his reply. He too was fully armoured in silver plate mail with gold trims. He was a giant of a man built from muscle. He had black hair tied into a ponytail and stubble covered his strong facial features. His dark brown eyes were full of confidence, Zephiel was shocked. He was going to get them both killed.

"You think we didn't know you were traitors?" Rickards booming voice filled the mountains and echoed back. "See this purple cloth, this is the mark of the assassins guild. If we don't return to the kingdom then the eight of you are all marked men." Rickard held out the stolen guild crest. Most of the guards had panic accross their faces. They all knew the assassins guild never missed a mark until they attacked Zephiel. "You turn and leave, then we will call off the assassins."

Most of the soldiers murmered in agreement and began to lower their weapons. Zephiel was filled with awe and confidence in Rickard now, he thanked God that he brought him. The clever ruse was working.  The soldiers began to back off slowly, they turned and began to walk away.

Rickard took a step forward, he unslung his gigantic claymore and buried it in the skull of one of the retreating soldiers. The sword was nearly four feet long, the captain swung it with ease and cleaved two soldiers in half. They backed into eachother, panicked and confused. Rickard then turned and stabbed the claymore straight through a soldiers visor, it burst out the other side and tore through a man behind him. The visor began to leak gore from the vision holes. The last three soldiers began to flee in utter terror. Rickard picked up one of the fallens shortswords and hurled it. The blade lodged in the back of a fleeing soldier, the last two escaped.

"Why did you kill them?" Zephiel cried as Rickard sheathed his claymore. "They were leaving" Zephiel was terrified, he despised violence, although under captain Rickard he learnt swordmanship when he was ten. Rickard wiped his blood drenched face and looked down at Zephiel.

"They would have returned and may do yet. We need to leave now." Rickard was the only man that could get away with using such a tone to the king. He was the most respected man in the kingdom, he was also fiercly loyal to his king. Zephiel nodded, he turned and grabbed his dog and stepped round to front of the carraige.

Rickard had begun untieing the horses from the carraige. The coachmans chair was stained with blood but no body could be found. Zephiel stopped for a moment, he mused over Rickards swordsmanship. Rickard was the only man in the entire world that could wield such a claymore. The young king loved and respected him, Rickard was strong, skilled, wise, loyal and resourceful. He chuckled to himself a moment over how Rickard had tricked the soldiers. After a bried moment Zephiel and Rickard both climbed on the horses and sped into the distance, Rickard had a destination in mind.

The End

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