Hey , why didnt you remind be about this thread? I thought you paused the story.

VanTee20:


Thanks sir..

My phone has been stolen . . Might be a while before the next update...

abeg vantee wher u dey,dis ur story dey my body sumtin o,abeg cum updat na

VanTee20:
My phone has been stolen . . Might be a while before the next update...

Ah!,who did this?

carmelion:

Ah!,who did this?

I honestly don't know. . . The story will be back on track very soon tho'...

UPDATE: OPENING DATE: 1ST DECEMBER 2015.
DEADLINE: 5th FEBRUARY 2016
ABOUT NAWOT:
The Nelson Adeyeye Writers Of Today(NAWOT) is an online competition that is organized by Sandra Adeyeye C.E.O of Eminent Creators in honor of her late father Mr. Nelson Adeyeye as a way to encourage the writing and reading culture of the Nigerian youth.
This competition promises to be an exciting and uplifting showcase of well-laid out Prose that promotes creativity at it's peak.
AWARDS:
There shall be a selection of the best twenty stories by our judges. These shall make up our anthology other prizes to be won include but are not restricted to:
Best writer Romance Category - 15,000
Best writer Science Fiction and Fantasy Category - 15,000
Best writer Mystery and Horror Category - 15,000
Best writer Action and Thriller Category - 15,000
Other consolation prizes, a copy of the anthology and other books shall follow.
RULES AND REGULATION:
In order to be eligible, participants are to note the following guidelines as regards submission of entries.
1) Participant must be a Nigerian youth between the ages of 16 - 30 years.
2) Participant must send a mail containing a black and white passport photograph, age, sex, phone numbers, email and facebook i.d in a separate mail from the mail bearing his entry.
3) Entry to be submitted must be Prose, original work of participant and must be an unpublished work, not submitted for any publication during the period of this competition.
NOTE: entry should not bear author's name on it. Just the title and the word count.
4) Entry must be between a 1,500 (minimum) - 2,500 (maximum) word count. Entries must be complete, concise and bear a comprehensive plot, i.e a beginning, middle and an end (no season). Entry font should be Arial size 12 and double spaced.
NOTE: subject of mail should signify what category the author is entering his story. No entries in PDF format will be accepted.
5) Participants can compete in four categories during this competition. I.e every writer is entitled to four entries per competition. Science fiction/fantasy category, mystery/horror category, action/thriller category and romance category.
NOTE: each entry attracts a fee of #1,000.
6) Every entry must have an attachment of the scanned bank draft which has the title of the submission boldly written on it.
Account name: Eminent Creators
Account number: 0201029142
Bank: Gtbank.
7) Every entry must be in English language, with minimal usage of vernacular; and if unavoidably used, must be explained as a footnote for better understanding.
All entries must be submitted to nelsonadeyeyewritersoftoday@gmail.com on or before 5 February 2016 (late entries will attract an extra fee of 500). Date for the prize-giving ceremony shall be communicated to participants via mail.
MODE OF SELECTION:
Participants will have excerpts from their stories displayed on our blog and Facebook page for voting by our public audience within a span of two weeks. Excerpts with the highest votes/comments within that period shall scale through to the next stage of selection.
Final announcement of the winners shall be left to the jurisdiction of the competition's in-house judges whose decisions shall be Binding and Final.
Finally: Writers retain the rights to the stories they submit for the NAWOT competition. The twenty winning stories are published as an anthology and open for purchase after the launching. After that, the winning authors are free to publish anywhere, as long as due credit is given to the NAWOT competition and/or Eminent Creators. Eminent Creators staff and NAWOT team members are not eligible to participate in the competition.
Good luck.

Signed:
Hillary Zita Successa
For the competition department.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A Personal milestone, Perfidy has reached a hundred Ms word pages. . .

A few hours after the council of noblemen had unanimously agreed to install Sir Millicent as the official regent of the Nersean Empire, the Knight and his cohorts gathered in the crypt of Lady Suzannah’s manor to discuss the final steps in their revised conquest plans. They sat at a round table with various huge dishes of delicacies and big jars of wine in their fore.

Sir Millicent opened the floor with his signature mellifluous voice, “Today, we are gathered to celebrate my installation as the regent of this grand empire, the process of which will be completed by tomorrow. This not exactly where we want to be, but we can at least celebrate the fact that we have gotten close enough in so little time. So let us drink and be merry while we decide on what our next course of action will be.”

“Admittedly, we have very little more to do to get the absolute power that we seek in our hands,” Lady Suzannah said. “But there is still something that bothers me about this whole thing.”

“What’s that? Let me guess, you’re thinking the Prince will return and ruin everything we’re doing?” Sir Millicent postulated. “The truth is he won’t. He just can’t. He will be taking on that crazy beast in the rebel camp tonight. What’s his name, Finn?”

“Frasser,” Finn answered. “He was a street urchin before we signed as a prizefighter ten years ago. It might be of interest to you that he has not lost any of the hundreds of fights he had undertaken since then.”

“Impressive record,” Lady Suzannah replied casually. “But I’m not as concerned about the Prince as Marcus. Like I said the other day, he remains the biggest threat to the success of our plans.”

“Excuse my forgetfulness but who is Marcus?” Lord Bradeigh asked through a mouthful of fried trout.

“He’s the same person as Sir Maxime at the last tournament. He is a rare breed of warrior who possesses alarming military finesse and mind-blowing magical powers. We call people like him gods’ favoured.”

“Ah! I remember the weasel that couldn’t even show up for his joust with Sir Millicent,” Lord Bradeigh said derisively, giving his balding dome a little scratch. “But I still don’t understand why you consider him a potential problem.”

“Don’t you get it? He is destined to be invincible. No man will ever defeat him. If by any chance, he joins forces with the opposite side, then that’s big trouble for us. .”

“What makes you think he will join forces with our enemies? So far, he has seemed pretty uninterested in the affairs of the state. ”

“I’m sure you won’t say that again when you see some things for yourself,” Lady Suzannah said exasperatedly as she turned to the northern wall of the room and muttered a spell. ”Mu Aestiya!”

There were three quick flashes of light then a moving picture of five persons riding towards the Rebel camp instantly became visible on the wall.

“That’s him sharing the black mare with the dark haired girl.” The Sorceress said. “They are going to attempt to free the Prince from the Cevout camp.”

Sir Millicent dropped the goblet of wine in his hand and walked to the part of the wall where the image was projected. “We have come too close to our objectives than to just sit back and let one little boy and his friends ruin it all for us. We are going to leave him to attempt to break the Prince out of Cevout. If he fails, well. If he succeeds and tries to come with the Prince to reclaim the throne as I think he will, better. We will have the Phantoms waiting for them.”

“Oh! I never thought of that,” Lady Suzannah cried. “There is no way he would be able to defeat Phantoms.”

“Yeah,” Sir Millicent said as he returned to his seat and lifted his goblet of northern wine. “A toast to continued success in our endeavours.”

“Cheers,” The others chorused.

“Now, how about we revisit the issue of execution of special criminals that Lord Bradeigh brought up the other day?”

* * *

The Prince, accompanied by three rebel guards, descended the flight of stairs that led to Melissa’s new cell with slow, thoughtful steps. He sighed as he remembered how much begging he had done before Dunstan granted him this little visit. One of the guards opened the gate and Galleine let himself into the dimly lit, stinky little cell. He saw his love interest tied to a long stake by her arms and feet. He saw her head bowed and her hair rumpled and caked with dirt.

“Melissa,” He called her gently.

She glanced up and stared at him blankly for a split second in lack of recognition, and then when she realized who was in front of her, she brightened.

“My lord. . .” She mouthed gently. Words seemed inadequate to capture her feelings in that moment.

“Melissa, I am really sorry for everything that you have gone through because of me. It’s. . .”

“Don’t be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

“No,” The Prince objected. “It’s because of me that you and your brother are in this hell hole. But I promise to do everything in my capacity to set things right as soon as possible.”

Melissa nodded dumbly. She lacked the strength to argue any further. “How is my brother?”

“He is going to be fine.”

“What do you mean he’s going to be fine?” Melissa queried concernedly. “Did anything happen to him during the fight?”

“He passed out, but I’m sure he will come to soon. That’s if he hasn’t already.”

“You mean Craig knocked Alan out in that?” She chuckled drily. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Craig didn’t. I did.” Prince Galleine corrected and when he saw the dark expression that crept onto Melissa’s face, he knew he had some serious explanations to do. “I took Craig’s place because I thought it was the best way I could prevent Craig from being battered by your brother. Alan could have beaten the hell out of him and maybe even killed him because that is part of the fight and. . . “

“My brother is not a monster!” Melissa interjected.

“I didn’t say he was. I was saying he could. . . “

“Shut up! I’m sick of listening to you,” Melissa screamed, her despair reaching its peak.

“Melissa. . .” The Prince called gently, as he reached out to pacify his steaming lover.

“Don’t touch me!” Melissa yelled. “Just go. Go away, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

The Prince stood there dumbly, unable to comprehend how quickly things had deteriorated between him and Melissa. He stood a few more moments before he turned and headed for the door of the cell wordlessly. As he reached the gate, he turned and tried to say something but then he decided against. He stared at Melissa for a few more seconds then he was gone.

As soon as Prince Galleine left her cell, Melissa broke down, letting the gates of her tears fling open. Torrents of salty water streamed down her sunken cheeks. She hadn’t meant what she said about not wanting to see the Prince again. The hopelessness of her current situation, the uncertainty of the future as well as her fear of her brother getting seriously injured had combined to make her utter those statements which she wished she could take back now. But then should the Prince have just walked out like that?

“I hope we get the chance to make up,” She muttered to herself.


* * *

The watch tower at the Cevout facility was specifically designed to keep any kind of influx of attacks from the federal troops or any other hostile party at bay. Three rebel guards were always posted there both day and night thereby making the rebel camp one of the hardest places to sneak into in Nersea. However, like most things in the natural world, the watch tower had its own Achilles heels. This weak point was in form of a blind-spot to the west of the tower where it was possible to hide and not be seen by the guards on duty. This blind-spot was where five persons: Marcus, Elliott, Xesandra, Helena and Royce, hid themselves ahead of the duel between the Prince and Frasser.

Xesandra had discovered that secret spot two years earlier when she and her sister, Veramanda, had chased a small band of renegades that had looted their home village.

“Are you sure we are really invisible to the guards from here?” Elliott asked as he looked over his shoulders nervously. “I have a feeling of being watched.”

“Nonsense,” Xesandra remarked. “Nobody is looking at you except us. You think if they’ve seen you, you won’t have got company by now?”

“Xesandra’s right, we are safe here,” Helena said. “By the way, the Prince’s duel is in an hour’s time. We haven’t agreed on how to get the Prince out.”

Marcus whose arm hung loosely around Helena’s waist replied. “I think we are going to be breaking more than the Prince out. When I saw him the other time, there were two knights. I suppose they were kidnapped with him.”

“There were about six people reported missing at our administrative headquarter,” Elliott informed. “There is the prince himself, the two knights in his company, his man servant, his lover who was the reason the Prince left Austieres in the first place and her brother.”

“How are we sure they are all here?” Xesandra asked.

“We can’t be sure,” Marcus answered. “The best we can do is make estimates and calculated guesses.”

“That said, I don’t think we need an elaborate plan to get the Prince out of here,” Elliott observed. “All we need to do is attack once the duel commences.”

“Mindless attack. Typical barbarian strategy,” Xesandra asked.

“Watch your tongue lady,” Elliott warned. “I have a very short fuse with uncouth people.”

“I wonder what you think you can do.” Xesandra replied.

“Stop it, you two!” Marcus said. “I actually have a plan but I don’t know how viable it will be.”

“Fill us in,” Helena said.

“Well, I will suggest that when the fight starts we create a big diversion, I don’t know how yet. We will get a good number of guards to come out. Xesandra will be waiting to cut down those that rush outside while Elliott and I will go inside to break the Prince and the others out,” Marcus explained.

“Not as easy as it sounds but it’s worth giving a trial anyway,” Xesandra commented.

“Great idea darl,” Helena said with a little peck to Marcus’ cheek.

“Darl?” Marcus repeated, not sure he heard her right.

“Yeah, darling,” Helena said with an expansive smile..

“Excuse me, when you were delegating responsibilities, you made no mention of me,” Royce observed. “Do you not think there is anything I can contribute to the success of this quest?”

“You will contribute alright,” Elliott replied. “You can assist miss badmouth here in keeping off the rebel guards or you can come with us into the facility.”

Royce considered his options for a few moments before he replied, “I think I will be more useful alongside Xesandra. But I doubt if we will record any success with this adventure if you two don’t stop antagonizing each other.”

“That’s true,” Marcus added. “I know you don’t like each other, but for the sake of us all just bury the hatchet.”

“Alright, for the team’s sake,” Elliott said, before stretching his hand to Xesandra. “Friends?”

The dark lady kicked outstretched his hand away and made a face at him, “Forget it, I don’t like you, nothing is going to change that.”

Before Elliott could react, a loud whistle went off in the rebel facility.

“I suppose that is signaling the start of the fight,” said Helena.

“Right,” Marcus replied. “Let’s get to action. Helena, you and Royce should think of something that will the guards out of there. Xesandra, position yourself well to get clean shots at the rebels. Elliott and I will go into the facility. Are we clear?”

The team members nodded in reply.

“Shouldn’t we even have a team name or something?” Helena said

“Good idea. How does Saviours of the Prince sound?” Elliott suggested.

“Terrible,” Xesandra replied, shaking her head in mock disgust.

“What about Red Knights?” Marcus offered. “I remember those wonderful tales my father told me about Knights. And what they do is pretty much the same as what we are doing.”

“Brilliant. Red is my favourite colour and being a Knight is cool too even if the order is not official,” Xesandra replied.

“Any objections to the name?”

No one objected. That was the birth of what was to be the most feared knighthood in the history of Casville. Moments later, the Red knights were positioned in their strategic places. Marcus breathed hard as he and Elliott leaned against the back wall of the facility waiting for Helena and Royce to strike.

“What is she doing?” Marcus heard Elliott ask.

“Who?”

“Xesandra,” Elliott replied, pointing her to Marcus. “She is making fire. That’s not part of the plan.”

“She wants to shoot burning arrows which is a very good idea considering the fact that a burning arrow is way more dangerous than an unburning one,” Marcus said. “Let us focus on our part of the plan.”

“Yes, yes, focus.”

Marcus tried to laugh at his friends antics but he found out that he couldn’t. He swallowed instead. It’s going to be a long night, he thought.

Congratulations Sire

Thank God ypu are back....Great job

stuff46:
Congratulations Sire

Thanks Sir

RICKYMARIO:
Thank God ypu are back....Great job

Thanks for sticking around Sir. . .

Vantee let me quickly say that I like ur story but then I find it unable to relate with certain action scenes,e,g what happened when xesandra came to help in d sect temple.

Essyprity:
Vantee let me quickly say that I like ur story but then I find it unable to relate with certain action scenes,e,g what happened when xesandra came to help in d sect temple.

Thanks ma'am. I think that particular scene came off like that because of Xesandra's mastery of archery. She was shooting multiple arrows at a time and the sect members didn't get half a chance. Anyways, I'll strive to make the upcoming action scenes more relatable with. Thanks again.

VanTee20:


Thanks ma'am. I think that particular scene came off like that because of Xesandra's mastery of archery. She was shooting multiple arrows at a time and the sect members didn't get half a chance. Anyways, I'll strive to make the upcoming action scenes more relatable with. Thanks again.

That's ok. U are telling a very good story here.

vantee wats hpnin

What a wonderful story line u ve here VanTee20, just reminded me of the story of Merlin and Prince Author of Camelot, very farmiliar....
Thanks for taking ur time to pen this piece of work done.




Patiently waiting for another mind blowing updates.[color=#000099][/color]

Thank God I'm here at last. My Oga 8-)Van carry go

Hello vantee, u av a new follower! I must confess, ur story is more than wonderful, to d extent it seems as if i am watching a movie!

Pls vantee do us(ur readers) a great pleasure of updating dis story.................... Dont just leave it hanging cos as for me, am loving it like my life depends on it!

Pls reply & respond to our pleas and update dis story!

This story is something else. One of the best stories I've come across here. I wish u success and a greater future, Mr. Vantee20. I'd be waiting for the updates.

mhiz:
vantee wats hpnin

I'm sorry ma'am. School is the main reason for the stagnancy of this thread. I promise to do something asap.

christygenius:
What a wonderful story line u ve here VanTee20, just reminded me of the story of Merlin and Prince Author of Camelot, very farmiliar....
Thanks for taking ur time to pen this piece of work done.




Patiently waiting for another mind blowing updates.[color=#000099][/color]

Thanks Christygenius. More updates are on the way

STANCO31:
Thank God I'm here at last. My Oga 8-)Van carry go

Welcome bro.

oghenekome51:
Hello vantee, u av a new follower! I must confess, ur story is more than wonderful, to d extent it seems as if i am watching a movie!

Pls vantee do us(ur readers) a great pleasure of updating dis story.................... Dont just leave it hanging cos as for me, am loving it like my life depends on it!

Pls reply & respond to our pleas and update dis story!

Wow, your comment has inspired me to write again. I'll be dropping the next update in matter of minutes. Thanks.

curvydiva:
This story is something else. One of the best stories I've come across here. I wish u success and a greater future, Mr. Vantee20. I'd be waiting for the updates.

I'm humbled by your comment. Thank you very much. Updates coming soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Malzene D’Aubriere lay on the cold, hard floor of his cell with his mind completely devoid of any intelligent scheme. He had given up on plotting an escape plan or anything to that effect since he had seen those doom visions from the crystal. All he had done since then was to sleep, wake up to eat the sordid meals that were passed to him through the little space under the giant door of his cell and then go back to sleep. He awaited his fate with as much serenity as was humanly possible.

Presently, Malzene pricked up his ears as he heard sounds of approaching footsteps. He listened more intently and gleaned from the sounds that there were no less than three persons coming in the direction of his cell. He found that very odd because no more than one person came to his cell at a time and that usually was the bearer of his food.

A few moments later, the door creaked open and four persons walked into the dark cell. Three of them wore the green garbs of the royal guards and held burning torches while the fourth person spotted a sparkling silver robe and a wand of matching colour. This person was none other than Lady Suzannah, Malzene’s eternal foe.

“What do you want?” He barked at his guests.

“Leave us,” Lady Suzannah ordered the guards. The guards bowed, hung their torches on the wall pouches and left.

“Are you not afraid that I might just run up and strangle you?”

The beautiful lady smiled darkly, “Well, while you may not know that the guards I just dismissed are still very much around and they will come rushing in at a snap of my finger, we both know that you don’t have half the strength to carry out your threat.”

“What do you want?” He repeated his query in a voice heavily laced with bitterness. “Or have you just come to rub my helplessness in my face?”

“Far from that, I have better things to do with my time than coming all the way to gloat in front a crushed foe,” She said. “I’m here to help you, just like I have done so many times in the past.”

D’Aubriere couldn’t stop himself from laughing long and hard. “Please tell me that is an irony.”

“I wish it is. Do you know just how many times I have kept your secrets safe even though I could have nailed you with them? When the late king put a price on your head, I knew exactly where that secret cave of yours was and I could have gotten someone to tell the king but I let you be. When you met the crown Prince in the hills, I was in the background watching. Those times when you treated the prince and his friends of their wounds, I could have easily sold you out as well. . .”

“What exactly do you want? This is the third time I’ll be asking the same question.”

“Alright, I learnt you have met this boy, Marcus Di Santo, on several occasions,” Lady Suzannah said. “I want to know about him.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything you know.”

“Why?”

Lady Suzannah hesitated a while before replying, “The boy is a spiritual mystery. I’ve been trying for years to discover who he is and every other thing there is to his powers but so far I have got nothing of note. Since you have had physical contact with him severally, I suppose you’ll be able to say a few tangible things about him.”

Malzene broke into another mirthless laugh. “You don’t really think I will help you. Do you?”

Lady Suzannah shrugged, “I was hoping you will be wise enough. After all you will get a states’ pardon and some Ciblis to boot.”

“I might be tempted if I haven’t seen the future. But now I know that my fate is to be executed, so even if I tell you what you want you’ll still have me executed.”

“I can’t believe that you are this silly. Do you not know that the future is never static, that it is entirely based on the actions you take now?” The sorceress said. “Well, since you are determined to go to your grave early, I won’t attempt to convince you to the otherwise. Just know that whether you help me or not, Marcus will be defeated. He’s no match for Phantoms.”

“Phantoms?” Malzene repeated in a voice that conveyed derision. “You mean these green clothed fools that accompany you around.”

“No, I mean an army of the dead.” Lady Suzannah said smugly.

“By the gods! How is that possible?”

“I have told you severally D’Aubriere, you are nothing but a babe in sorcery.” Lady Suzannah said as she turned and made for the exit door. “See you at the execution.”

As soon as Lady Suzannah got out of Malzene’s cell, Finn, who had been waiting for her all the while, briskly walked up.

“What did he say?”

Lady Suzannah eyed the huge man with undisguised disgust. It was common knowledge that she grossly disliked him. The only reason she continually put up with him was because Sir Millicent constantly vouched for his unwavering loyalty and usefulness.

“He doesn’t want to help. Not that it matters anyway. We have our Phantom card left to play and . . .”

“What?” He asked when she lapsed into silence midsentence.

“You don’t worry, just tell Sir Millicent that everything is under control.”


* * *

“Kill him! Kill him!”

The bloodthirsty spectators at the mini amphitheater in the rebel stronghold cried with raw pleasure as Frasser placed the forked tip of his trident at the base of his opponent’s neck, ready to deliver the mortal blow that the viewers so much loved to see.

“Please. Don’t kill me,” The defeated man pled with blood gushing out of his mouth as he said each word. “I will give you all the Ciblis I’ve made in my career.”

“Nay, nobody faces me in this damned ring and live to tell the tale. You won’t be the exception.”

That said, Frasser drove the prongs of his huge trident into the flesh of the helpless inmate’s neck in one swift moment, causing blood to splatter on the surface of the ring. Wild cheers erupted from every corner of the amphitheater as the supporters of Frasser reveled in the victory of their man.

Craig watched all this through the bars of the little room opposite the ring with a growing fear for his liege, Prince Galleine. He was in the room alongside the Prince and one grim looking guard. In that moment, the guard produced a bunch of keys from somewhere on his belt and proceeded to open the gate of the room for the Prince to pass into the ring.

“Good luck Sire,” Craig said as the Prince’s figure slowly exited the cell. He got no reply.

The Prince walked slowly to the centre of the ring where Frasser stood waiting. He tried to ignore the incessant boos from the spectators and focus solely on picking out the weak points of his mountainous framed opponent. In a flash, he remembered the words of his tutor in the art of combats, Lord Harleim.

The bigger a man, the less speed he has.

Prince Galleine remembered the swiftness with which Frasser had attacked him during their brief scuffle in his cell and he instantly came to a conclusion that Lord Harleim’s rule holds no water as regards his current opponent.

“Aye! Keep it down. Wait till I beat the life out of him and then do him in front of you all.” Frasser said to the inmates causing them to yell even more.

“Alright, let’s get this started. You two are not new to this. You are to fight until one of you dies or surrenders,” Dunstan instructed, and then he turned to the attendants around. “Serve them weapons.”

Both men were given the weapons of their choice. The prince was handed a broadsword and Frasser, his legendary trident. A low trumpet went off and both men stepped forward to attack each other. The Prince knew he had to be wise. Letting Frasser corner him would be a deadly mistake. He had to hold him off till he was tired then he would go for the kill.

The Prince charged at his ready opponent. He attempted to plunge his weapon in his adversary’s head but Frasser was too good for that. He blocked the sword with his trident then he retaliated by ramming his balding head against the Prince’s face.

The Prince staggered backwards as the brute force with which Frasser had head-butted him overcame his body’s inertia. In that moment, a molar and a trickle of blood escaped his mouth as he struggled to regain his balance.

Frasser charged again, aiming the trident at the Prince’s head. The prince was fast enough to evade that blow as he ducked but he was nowhere near being quick enough to do anything about the elbow that Frasser sent to his solar plexus. A low groan escaped the Prince’s lips as he staggered backwards still, leaving him completely opened to a slap-kick that Frasser landed on his face. This time he totally lost every iota of balance and fell.

The spectators cheered wildly. Frasser responded by doing his signatory killing sign. The Prince quickly scrambled to his feet. He wasn’t going to let the match be a walk in the park for his opponent.

Frasser was on him again. He kicked the Prince’s sword away with so much force that the weapon tore through the netting that covered the ring and then proceeded to pierce the chest of an unwary spectator. The Prince, now at the disadvantage of being weaponless, tried to use the age long trick of kicking the opponent’s balls but Frasser seemed to know what was in the Prince Galleine’s mind as he quickly raised his right knee and then crossed it over his crotch so that the kick failed to hit home.

Just then, a guard came running into the amphitheater, screaming, “Fire! The artillery is burning.”

The response to that shout was instant. The artillery was the home of every weapon of the rebels. The reason why it wasn’t heavily guarded tonight was because of the inmates fight going on. Two squads of guards immediately rushed out to put out the fire.

Dunstan then called to Frasser, “Finish this match already!”

Frasser, buoyed by Dunstan’s words, immediately charged at his weakened adversary. He struck the end of his trident hard against the Prince’s head and then followed up with a terrific looking series of bicycle kicks to Prince Galleine’s chest. The spectators gave a standing ovation to Frasser for the sheer impressiveness of his combative abilities as the Prince collapsed to the floor, too weak even to raise his hands up in surrender.

“Kill him! Kill him!” The spectators chanted, urging the man whom they have for long regarded as the god of the ring on to finish off what he started.

Frasser responded by repeating his killing sign and then sashaying over to where the Prince lay, battered and exhausted beyond words. The big man set the prongs of his trident to the base of the Prince’s neck just like he had done with his previous opponent. He was moments away from slaying the crown Prince in front of a crowd of rebels and prisoners.

“Hold it right there!” The voice ordered.

Every head in the amphitheater turned from the spectacle in the middle of the ring to see two men who had sneaked in through the service door at the rear end of the amphitheater, with two dead guards at their feet.

“We are here for the Prince and we, sure as hell, won’t leave without him.” The long haired youth who had spoken earlier, added.

There was a moment of eerie silence in the mini coliseum after which Dunstan thundered with fury, “The hell! Kill them both!”

Elliott turned to urge his companion on with a wink and a little smile as the squad of rebels closed in on them. “Fifty Ciblis says I’ll kill more than you.”

Marcus only grinned as he unsheathed his sword. “I’ll be damned if I don’t double your kills.”


* * *

Helena smiled to herself as she sat on a rock in the secret spot, reliving how she and Royce had disposed two guards of their weapons with logs and how they had proceeded to set fire on the artillery with burning torches and a few clothing.

Two persons ran into the blindspot, jolting Helena out of her reverie. For a split second, she thought it was Elliott and Marcus but she looked up to see that it was Xesandra and Royce.

“You stopped shooting?”

“Obviously,” Xesandra replied. “I’ve taken down enough men, besides, I’m down on arrows.”

Helena peeped out of the blindspot and saw that only a few guards below them were still mobile, most of them were still with death, even most of the moving ones were injured and nobody was climbing up to attack them yet.

“I hope your lover will do justice to his part.”

“He will. He never fails at anything he does.”

“Out of curiosity, Helena,” Xesandra said. “What attracted you to such a petty man? A pretty damsel of your class will be better suited to a high ranking earl or baron.”

Before Helena could reply, a terrible sounding roar erupted from inside the rebel facility. The three red knights in the secret spot quickly moved to get a better view of proceedings around the facility.

“What do you think is going on in there?”

“I can’t tell,” Royce, the usually silent one, answered.

In a few moments, the gates of the facility flung open and a multitude of people ran out, screaming and pushing one another as they scattered in all directions.

“What the hell is going on?” Xesandra asked a question that none of her companions could possibly answer.

Helena paid no heed to Xesandra and her questions. She kept peering at the crowd, trying to see if there was anyone who matched Marcus’ features.

“I think we should get out of here,” Xesandra opined.

“No way, I’m not leaving without Mar….”

Helena’s speech was punctuated by the sounds made by arrival of some persons in the secret spot. Helena turned to see Marcus with the Prince hoisted over his shoulder. Elliott similarly bore the weight of a redhead lady with sunken cheeks and dirt blackened clothing. Three men lurked behind Marcus and Elliott. Helena recognised them. One was the Prince’s servant, Craig and the two others were knights even though she couldn’t recall their names.

Helena instantly ran to embrace Marcus and plant a long kiss on his bloodied lips. A few blissful moments passed before they broke the kiss. Helena sized up her man again. Even in his pathetic condition, she found him largely alluring. Whoever said Sir Millicent was the finest man in Casville?

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. But I’m afraid the Prince is not. Let’s get out of here.”

“What was the whole bedlam about?”

“We killed a great deal of rebel guards and freed the inmates and then Marcus was lucky to kill Frasser in . . .” Elliott narrated.

“Let’s get out of here.” Marcus interrupted his friend. “I’ll feel lot better without the Prince’s weight.”

The red knight and those with them began to move towards the exit of their safe haven.

“Sir Claude, What’s wrong?” Marcus asked when he noticed that the Knight did not appear like he wanted to leave with them.

He shook his head in reply, “I’ll stay to make sure we don’t get tailed.”

Marcus wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Sir Claude that it was sheer folly to stay back. All he could succeed in doing was to get himself killed or injured. The rebels could follow them if they wanted but Marcus knew that before noon tomorrow he and his companions will safely be in the federal territory, where no rebel dared to enter. But Marcus didn’t say all these because he was tired out from his recent exertions, he simply lacked the strength to argue.

“Okay, if you so wish.”

“See you at the citadel.” Sir Claude said as the company began to leave the secret spot.

Marcus nodded in reply, even though deep down, he had the strange feeling that he was seeing the last of Sir Claude.







THE END OF CHAPTER TWENTY

Sacrificial lamb. Lovely update

Wonderful!

stuff46:
Sacrificial lamb. Lovely update

Lol. Thanks sir.

RICKYMARIO:
Wonderful!

Thanks sir.

[quote author=GoldenMosquito post=43008239][/quote]
You said what sir?
Btw, your moniker is amusing.

Wow! Wow! Vantee has done it again! Thank u for honouring our request, we are gratefully grateful!

The update was more Dan wonderful and i feel honoured....................

As per Oliver twist tyns nah, bros abeg no vex buh we want more!