Paul stepped towards Michael who raised his sword, Paul effortlessly swiped it out of the young mans hands with his own sword. He grinned cockily. Michael stumbled backwards and Paul moved closer, holding his sword to Michael’s throat.
“I’ll enjoy this.”
“No! Paul please!” Sara shrieked and went to stop him but her father restrained her. “I’ll marry you! But please spare him!” she begged.
“I don’t think so, princess, I’ll kill him and your father will ensure you still marry me so I can get the best of both.” Paul said arrogantly. John went to help but fell to the ground from his wounds from before. Paul laughed, looking at the remainder of Michael’s allies, helpless, injured. He raised his sword high about to strike down on the poor servant boy when suddenly, someone came running into the room, an axe held above his head, before Paul could turn around, the axe was in his back. He stumbled around to look at his killer, it was a large built very dishevelled looking slave. Lincoln.
“Cowardly death for a cowardly lord!” Lincoln spat. Paul stumbled forwards, his sword ready to strike down his killer, the king went to draw his own weapon but Whistler by then had staggered towards him, a sword tip pointing at the kings throat.
“I wouldn’t, if I was you.” he held a smirk on his face as the king looked defeated. Michael picked up his sword and disarmed Paul who fell to his knees. Michael saw red, he thrust his sword into Paul’s chest, to hasten his death.
“That’s for attacking Sara!” he kicked Paul’s body off of his sword. Michael then raged towards the king, weapon ready.
“Michael no! Please!” Sara called, her face a picture of horror, her big hazel eyes begging.
“He tortured innocent people, he tortured Lincoln!”
“He’s still my father, I do not want to see him dead, but we need to overthrow him, send him and all of his loyal lords to the slave pens, they can finish off that disgusting monument but the dedication of the monument can change, we can dedicate it to our fallen heroes!” Michael relaxed and walked away, she was right. Lincoln ripped the axe from Paul’s back and turned to see the king rise from his seat, weapon drawn, he was about to kill Michael.
“No!!” Sara cried. Lincoln threw the axe, it skimmed the kings head cutting his ear clean off! Whistler was back in position with the sword at the kings throat.
“I told you that was a bad idea.” he said as the king panicked about his ear. John clambered up, went to the kings dresser where his crown sat.
“I wanted you dead. I would kill you myself but I refuse to murder a father in front of his daughter. You are a lucky man, your daughter saved your life, too bad you’ll never see her again.” he picked up the kings crown and tossed it out of the window. “Oops.” he grinned. More of the rebels came running in at this point.
“We have arrested the king! He is to finish that monument as a slave, in place of you.” Sara said, “by my order, take him to the dungeons!” she said. Her father pleaded with her as he was dragged passed, she did not look him in the eye and did not shed a tear, for at least his life was spared. Michael went to his brother, arm over shoulders.
“You saved my life, twice, thanks, but how the hell did you get up here in your state?”
“I just couldn’t let you go in alone, little brother, I had a feeling you might need me, so I grabbed an ale, then headed up.” Michael laughed.
“I’m just glad we’re all safe.” Sara came and wrapped her arm around Michael’s waist, smiling at Lincoln.
“My lady.” Lincoln politely bowed his head.
“No formalities needed, Lincoln, you were a hero of this battle.” they heard a wince and turned to see John fall to the floor. He was gripping one of his wounds. Michael immediately ran to his side.
“Damn, I don’t think I’m going to make it out of this castle, Michael.” he said through gritted teeth as he collapsed flat on the floor.
“We’ll get you a doctor, stay with us!” Michael said.
“No, I can’t, just see that my men are taken care of,” he coughed and blood trickled out of his mouth. He had held out long enough to see the fall of the king but his body was just too wounded to get through the injuries. “I saw the end of King Tancredi, I am dying a happy man.”
“I’m so sorry, John.” Michael said as his eyes became shiny with tears, a man he had fought beside, as an ally, a friend, was lost to this battle.
Word spread that Paul was dead, the king had been arrested, his men surrendered. The castle was filled with cheers, laughter, celebrations. The joy was so great that it could be felt in the air. The heroes that had seized this victory stepped out onto the kings balcony, they could see the battle had spread to the main courtyard and their allies were cheering and then the cheers were directed up at them. Michael, Sara, Lincoln and Whistler smiled, then Whistler was shouting down to his men, waving his sword in the air as celebration, congratulating them for surviving.
The battle had spilled into the kitchen and Katie and Veronica were assisting the rebels, using any utensil they could get their hands on. Katie was just about to take up a cooking pot to crack over one of the guards heads when a servant boy came running in.
“Lord Paul is dead! The king is in the dungeons! We are all free!” he yelled and Katie grinned smugly at the guard as he dropped his weapon. She placed the cooking pot on the side. A guard had pinned Veronica in a corner, he looked at her scared face, trying to decide whether to take her off and rape her or admit defeat. Katie came along, cooking pot back in hand and knocked him out with it. She helped Veronica straighten up, brushed her off and then they ran off into the celebrations. Katie shouting out, cheering with the best of the men, when suddenly, one of Whistler’s men grabbed her, grinned and then planted his lips onto her. Veronica giggled. Katie pulled away, slapped him for being so forward but then resumed kissing him.
On the kings balcony, Lincoln and Whistler’s injured forms were supporting each others weight while they cheered with the rebels in the courtyard below. Michael and Sara gazed into each others eyes, the loud shouting and cheering faded to oblivion, they smiled, tears escaped Sara’s eyes.
“I’m sorry about your father,”
“It was my idea, that bastard deserves it. I just didn’t want to see him die.”
“Understandable.” he said. “But still…”
“It’s ok Michael, the people are free, that’s all I cared about.” he pulled her closer, they smiled bigger than they had in a long time and finally, they finally had a kiss for all to see, one they did not need to fear, a pure, perfect kiss. They did not realise but the cheers grew louder at their embrace, at their kiss.