Girl With The Golden Cat Eyes - 18 Onward, into the new world 8
They followed the river south. Their horses trotted at a leisurely pace and while the events at Fable’s End had left deep scars in the survivors, they left with a Goddess and a new lease on life. Not exactly something comparable in gold coins, and definitely something they weren’t going to tell the others, but to them – it was a story worthy of a song. Then again, they all agreed to keep the part about awakening the Creator of the World. Not even they had completely digested that bit of their journey.
Ten minutes later, they saw the end of the village as they followed the river as it curved to the left. There was also a large group of mounted men on the road as they galloped towards them. Randol, who took the lead, was about to have everyone dip onto another road to let them pass, but then he saw who was leading the host. Earl Assem. He didn’t look like he was here to give them a warm goodbye either.
Randol sighed and had everyone stop. It only took a less than a minute for the group to come to a stop before theirs, and man, Assem was burning with rage.
“There you are!” He snarled as he pointed a bare steel saber towards Cyril. “I’ve come to pay you back for what you did to me.
His nose was discolored where the mug she had thrown at him struck. It looked strange, and funny, that he’d appear in public like that.
“Dear cousin…” Randol wanted to sigh again, but he wore his armor. After he had paid the stable boy to clean it up, it shined under the sun with the colors of the Royal family. He still had his pride and honor to uphold now that he didn’t look like a vagabond. “If you wish to make a formal complaint, you can send a raven to Father Emperor.”
“Fuck your father, and fuck you!” Assem roared. “I want that bitch on her knees now! I want her to beg for her pathetic life, and when I and the rest of my knights fuck her stupid, I may spare her!” Some spit came out with that last word. His eyes burned with a fury Randol hadn’t ever seen in the man before.
“I will–”
“I don’t care what you will! “Assem’s voice whipped across the group and cut Randol’s words off. “This is my fief! My lands! And yet, she dared to humiliate me in my own land! She isn’t apart of the royal family, so give me to her!”
“No.” Randol disregarded any notion that he could defuse the situation. Assem had always been a prideful weasel, even when he was struck down by his betters. He would always lash out at whomever he could wield his titles and little authority over. But he couldn’t hand Cyril over.
“I do not care what you want!” Assem barked again. “Hand her over, or-” He turned the point of his sword to Randol. “I’ll take her and the rest of the girls!”
“I’ll give you one chance,” Randol’s eyes narrowed and his voice became dangerously cold. “Sheathe your weapon and return to your keep. I will forgive this transgression only this time but continue… ” He pulled his sword from his side. “And I will met out punishment for this.
Cyril tightened one arm around Priscilla, who slowly pulled her wand out of the new leather belt she had gotten early. Before, she would have shaken at the thought of an actual fight. Now though, she was ready. Assem and his shit-eating knights were nothing compared to death incarnate. Mai also brandished her sword and Desmond his wand.
Assem dismounted his horse, along with the rest of his host, and he gave Randol a sinister smile. “I have lived under your damn boots while I was in the Capital, but I thought I finally became free once I got this backwater land. It turned out, I quite like it here, no dear Randol, or Father here to tell me what to do. Even if that damn maid is here, but I’ll change that today. If I can’t do what I want in my own lands, then I might a well-cut that pretty head of yours off and declare war on Uncle!”
In spite of the dangerous situation, Randol was perplexed by how crazed this man was getting over such a simple knock out. Just how hard had she hit him to make him this crazy? He dismounted his horse always, and the others followed suit.
“And do you all agree with him?” Randol turned his attention to the knights behind Assem.
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All of them shook their heads and stepped back, but the crazed Earl didn’t notice. They all held their hands up while they guided their horses away from the host. They had also attracted quite a crowd around them and even more, people gathered on the other side of the river.
“Back up.” Desmond said to Cyril as he also backed away from the confrontation.
The girls followed suit as Assem suddenly thrusted the tip of his saber at Randol’s exposed head. While Randol was a trained warrior and an official Knight, he barely avoided the sudden attack due to the lapse in his attention. He leaned to the side and brought his sword up.
Steel on steel sang as sparks flew from as Randol deflected the blade away. Assem quickly stepped back, brought the sword with him before he thrusted again. This time, he aimed for the small opening just below the lip of his breastplate. Randol was surprised by his quickness. Last time they had spared ten years ago, he could barely hold the sword properly. Now, he moved with some proficiency.
Unfortunately for Assem, some was not enough to beat Randol.
Retaliation came too quick for Assem to pull away as the prince sidestepped the stab. He stepped in as he threw a heavy punch towards Assem’s chest. The metal-covered hand-hammered the man, who’s only protection was his finely made golden doublet, and he reeled away foaming with anger. The hit must have hurt as Assem clutched his chest, but he kept his sword up.
“You’ll pay for that!” He roared like some cookie-cutter bad guy and lunged at Randol with a slash from the right. The attack was easily deflected as Randol parried the blow, reached out with his free hand and grabbed his shirt. Once he grasped the fabric, he pulled Assem around and ran him nose-first into the brick foundation of a raised house. Randol let him go and made some distance while keeping his back towards his group.
Blood was smeared across the stone where Assem had been struck against. The sound had made a dull slap and the sound of his nose breaking. Assem curled up on the dirt road as he wailed in pain as blood gushed from his nose.
“Give up!” Randol said. He’ll admit, the man had improved in his swordplay, but it was still like fighting a child. He didn’t want to take the life of this scumbag. It wasn’t worth it, and him being an Earl was enough of a political issue. He just wanted this farce to end. Assem slowly struggled to his feet, and nodded, still attempting to stem the blood flow.
Randol sighed in relief and sheathed his sword. “I apologize for the offense Lady Cyril has done to you, and I’ll make it right,” Randol explained. “But this is now how it will happen, and it won’t end with you making her a slave. Wait until I get to the capital and I will send remuneration.”
Assem only nodded. They stood in their respective spots for a few awkward moments before Randol gave his partings and gestured for his group to follow. Cyril was behind him while everyone else had decided to lead the horses on the river’s side. Things looked to have been settled as Assem finally managed to stop the blood and glared at Randol as he passed. When Randol passed, Assem suddenly whipped his sword around and pierced towards his unplated back. Steel rings only protected his back, and that was only for slashing. The saber was sharp and its tip truth. It would never have the ability to stop his thrust.
“Look out!” Priscilla cried as she tried to form a spell along with Desmond. Mai rushed forward, but she would never reach him. Assem was only a couple feet from Randol…