In Dreams: Red

The Wall Falls

Shoving my way through the soldiers, ours and theirs, my first thought is my mother. I am torn between my duty and family. My mind tries to rend itself in two. Where do I turn first? I understand my father's instructions, as stilted as they are. I'm to defend the tunnels, protect and evacuate the elderly, women and children, but I'm not going to deny the ache in my chest at thinking of my mother and Helena and her family... I am just having a really hard time deciding which way to turn first.

With a frustrated howl I race towards the nearest tunnel entrance I know of, first things first. I can't evacuate anyone if I don't know if the tunnels are safe. I don't even bother with the niceties, slamming open the door and pounding down the tunnel without thinking ahead. I hope I'm heading in the right general direction, my blood pumping so loud in my veins I can't hear anything over it and my own harsh breathing. I'm going to tear the world apart, no one is going to take anyone else from me. Somehow, the sound of battle still makes itself heard over my own body's rage and I pound around tunnel curves and bends and take turns and branches trying to find the battle, screaming my bitterness at the first enemy soldier I see. I swear that's what saves my life. He freezes, unsure how to handle the wild creature flying at him, eyes wild, and I duck under his sword and jab a blade between the joints in his armor and leap for his throat with the another. The blade catches under his jaw, hooking on the bone with a jittering rasp I can feel all the way down my arm. I abandon it with a snarl as the soldier curls over. I don't have time. Two more are rushing my direction. The first makes the mistake of trying to strike a downward blow at me because I'm smaller than he. I drop to a crouch. My blade severs the tendons and nerves behind his knee and he goes down with a scream. I want to dispatch him quickly, but the second soldier is on me quickly. This one tackles me to the ground. I am not certain what his intent is, but a dozen horrifying thoughts go through my head as he straddles me. He curses and tries to hold my struggling body still. He's got my shoulders pinned to the ground, holding my upper arms while he sits on my hips.

“Just kill her already!” The other soldier spits. I buck, my hand still clasped around the knife, all I need is a little more leverage, a little extra room to move my arm...

“I can't.” Hisses the other. “It's her you fool. Didn't you see who you were attacking? Gods, the King woulda killed you.” The words barely make their way into my head, but I still briefly.

“What? It's her? The Right Hand?” The first soldier struggles into a seated position. I grin evilly as I watch him struggle with his deadened and useless leg.

“Yes you Gods-damned i***t! To think we were almost the cause of her destruction.” The soldier straddling her removed his hand as if to rub his face and then realized what he was doing. We had a brief scuffle as we battle for control. Sadly he hadn't freed the hand with the knife in it. I curse at him. “I'm going to need your help, she's a wildcat. I can barely contain her.” I buck again. Shouldn't have admitted that. If that is true, then I have the possibility of wearing him out. It will just depend on which of us is more determined to overpower the other. And I can guarantee it is me. I pull my knees up as hard as I can, nailing him in the back, but there's not enough power behind it to do more than jostle him forward a little bit. If his leg would move just a bit further forward I could bury my knife in his thigh or calf. I bare my teeth at him.

“I promise you, I will get free, and you will die.” I snarl. He chuckles uncomfortably.

“That may be lass. But it may be that I get you back to our King before that happens, eh?” He responds. Ice floods my blood. There can be no good outcome of being brought before the enemy leader. Visions of my head on a pike dance before my eyes, but worse is the treatment I may receive before the merciful kill.

“I can't stand like this.” The other soldier interrupts.

“You have an extra working leg, don't you?” Barks the one holding me down. I roll my eyes. “Look, just slide your arse over here and hold her Gods-damned legs down so I can get her wrists more firmly and wrest her from the ground.” The injured soldier complains, but scoots himself across the tunnel floor, leg dragging, to lay heavily across my knees.

“I outta hobble her as she's done me.” He growls and the soldier in front of him turns as much as he can while still restraining me.

“No you will not!” He bellows. The injured soldier turns his face.

“I was just saying...” The injured soldier begins

“Wipe it from your head. You know what the King wants.” The second soldier yells. He takes several deep breaths, and then says more calmly. “Besides, how am I supposed to get both of you out of here if neither of you can walk?” The injured soldier is silent, so the one straddling me nods and starts moving slowly. He lifts his hips off of me and of course I begin to buck and kick. The injured soldier curses, wrapping himself more firmly about my knees. I gain purchase, slamming my heels into the tunnel flooring and lifting him from the ground.

“Bloody...! Would you get hold of her!” The injured soldier yells. My wrist is slammed against the tunnel flooring, trying to loosen my grip on the blade I have gripped in my hand. I hiss, but hold on tight. The slamming continues until I let loose with a yowl of anger and pain. I'm yanked up from the floor, legs still held by the injured soldier. I nearly topple. One arm is twisted behind my back, the other pulled over my head.

“I'm going to loosen my grip on this now.” A harsh yank on the arm being pulled down behind my shoulder. “If you struggle, I will break it. The King said whole, but he didn't say I couldn't break parts of your anatomy to get you to cooperate.” Hisses the soldier's voice in my ear. He moves behind me and slides his hand to my wrist taking my arm up and away from my body before twisting it behind me too. He grips both my wrists in one of his and I immediately begin to struggle again as his grasp loosens. My arms are wrenched upward, forcing me to bend over to ease the pain, which makes my stance even more precarious since the other soldier still clings to my legs. I'm slinging curses at them both when the belt is lashed around my arms. I twist, trying to make the chore more difficult and nearly overbalance us both. The soldier behind me has finally had enough. “Stop it!” He bellows, shaking me. I turn to spit at him and he slaps me cold. My ear rings and I screech.

“Gods-she's not even human.” The injured soldier at my feet shouts over the noise I make. The soldier finishes binding my arms and smacks me again, hard enough this time that for a moment everything in my head gets a little fuzzy and dizzy. When I can concentrate again, I'm being pushed forward down the tunnel, stumbling.

“...that's why the King wants her. I mean, you've heard the stories right? They say she was Gods-created, this one.” He shakes me and I nearly fall. “The things they say she can do... Well, she is a powerful little thing, I'll give her that. She'd make good breeding stock.” I slam my foot down on the soldiers. The boots he wears are softer leather than the protected kind many of my father's soldiers prefer. No iron across the arch or shin. I celebrate my success as he curses and stumbles. His grip softens slightly and I yank my shoulder back and down. I am nearly free, and I finally see why. He's supporting the other soldier on his other side.

“Stupid boy.” I sneer. “You should have kept both hands on me while you had the chance.” I let my body fall to the ground and kick out with both feet. I hear the satisfying noise of his knee crack as the joint is twisted out of place. My arms are bound too tightly for me to wiggle my butt and legs through, he's bound me nearly to the elbows. I roll over to get my knees under me and struggle to my feet, but the soldier grabs my ankle and brings me down again. I kick at his face and he shouts. The other soldier is struggling over his compatriot with his sword.

“Gods-damn it, I don't care what the King says! She's dead!” He swings his sword and as I try to roll out from under it, another sword barely catches the blade before it reaches me. I look up to see Corwin's panting and blooding face. He turns to face the two. The one whose knee I've just broken is struggling to rise, the other looks pale and washed out. Blood loss.

“About time.” I wheeze.

“Sorry my Lady. Still rousting them out of the tunnels further in. You finally made enough noise to be noticed. Or was that one of them screaming like a girl?” Corwin asks, jutting a chin at the soldiers.

“Like I scream like a girl.” I answered, sounding offended.

“No offense Lady, but you do.” Corwin throws a grin at me, but the soldier with the broken knee jumps at him and he brings his sword down across the back of his neck. He falls dead on my legs, head nearly decapitated.

“Ugh, really?” I complain, kicking him off. Corwin shoots me another grin.

“And you?” Corwin asks the last soldier. He snarls, but throws his sword at Corwin's feet. “Lady?” Corwin requests of me.

“Kill him.” I answer. The soldier's protests are cut off by Corwin's blade.

“Why are you still laying there like a damsel in distress then?” Corwin turns and leans on his blade. I eye the sword.

“You're going to blunt the tip as badly as your brain.” I remark, then roll to expose my bound arms. Corwin whistles.

“That's all? And you couldn't escape that?” Corwin is shaking his head with a teasing grin when I roll back over.

“I promise you a slow death you-” I spit and Corwin laughs.

“Go on then, roll over I shall cut you out.” He teases.