Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene LXVIII

An arrow whisked by as King Brijsk's mighty steed trampled its way back through the Eastern Kingdom. He turned in slight surprise at the sound, and looked over to his knight, who was galloping to his left. The loyal deputy turned in equal puzzlement, having heard the whoosh himself. The second knight, who travelled not too far behind, perceived nothing, but quickly caught notice of his king's discomfort. Both attendants gripped their reins with concern and picked up speed. Almost instantly another arrow hit King Brijsk's horse squarely in the rear. They were under attack. A quickened panic; the tiny-looking arrow protruding from the upper back leg of the powerful mount. Then they saw it; high to the west of their intended path: twenty, perhaps thirty horsemen waiting on the hillside, ready to cut them off. It was an ambush.

Without thought King Brijsk turned east and headed into the more forested brush. The trees added a degree of cover, but now they heard the gallop of horses that came in tow. Arrows whizzed as they pelted on - followed like stricken foxes through the woodland. An arrow tip rattled off the hem of King Brijsk's armour, then another thudded into his horse. The giant beast raced on regardless. Its natural fury undisturbed by the second piercing wound. Then, the wooded cover opened up again, and suddenly it became an open pursuit. A huge troop of men on horseback hounding hungry at their tail. The sound of hooves a deafening raid, louder in the open air. Meanwhile, the horsemen that waited on the tor ahead thundered across from their post to close the exit.

Another arrow clipped the shoulder of the first knight as he steadfastly covered his king's left. More stray arrows raining down intermittently. They pressed on, but it was a baleful task - slowly it dawned that they were completely encircled. As they came fully into open field a ring of enemy troops hemmed them in. With nowhere to go they came to a weary stop, and dismounted, ready to surrender. Unfortunately that wasn't an option. As they reached for their swords to lay them to the ground the order was given. Their adversaries raised their bows in readiness to shoot. It was not a capture, but an assassination. As King Brijsk grasped this dark truth he grasped his sword and barged headlong towards the encircling forces. The assailant leading the ambush quickened his instruction in response. An instant bike wheel of arrows filled the grassy field. One timely arrow ripped into the skull of the second loyal knight. Grimly, he fell to the ground. Another ripped through the arm of the first, though as the rest volleyed down he was largely spared by his heavy armour. Without fear he charged onward in tandem with his burly king.

King Brijsk's huge sword ripped through his first victim as he headed bullishly into the crowd. He then aggressively cut down the next. A bloody gory terror. His enormous stature brutal in its capacity to deliver destruction. One horse panicked and cast its rider from the saddle in response. Another turned in an attempt to avoid the maddened monarch, but only succeeded in cascading further into the rush. The wounded first knight in brave mimicry followed his king, and gloriously cut in half the head guard. A blunt act of vengeance for his cowardly order. In the closeness of battle arrow shot became futile, both men shielded by the melee of flesh. In delayed response the enemy horsemen unsheathed their swords to harry at the renegades. One hundred to one they lurched at the northern king and his loyal kinsman. The two cut down foes with rapid speed. Prophetic in their animal instinct. As the bedlam heightened the king's horse, arrows still pointing from its bloodied hind, hurled through the mass of men. Spooked with terror, it careened headlong, trampling men under foot. Its heavy build like a monstrous battering ram.

King Brijsk took a deep gash on his knee and briefly stumbled, before gathering his momentum and pressing on again. Another two men quickly slain, as he and his knight moved on to further victims. Their desperate endeavour like a bloody dream, where only violence could find the door to wakefulness.

Though a giant in size, and heavy with age, the king's limbs moved with grace. Dispatching each foe with swift athleticism. One, then the next. Then another. His broadsword cracked the temple of one adversary. Delivering certain death. He then forced the blade through the stomach of another that came charging at him on horseback. However, this time, though the wound was fatal, the effort to remove the blade came hard. As the horseman tumbled weightily towards him the king strained to re-wield his weapon. For the first time he struggled to respond in the chaos. A further enemy came at him from the side. He freed the blade and turned to swipe. Clipping the armour of the oncoming rival ..but it was not enough. A long, pointed sword came sharp into his back, impaling his large torso. The elephantine king fell forward, face down into the mud.

His faithful knight caught sight of the tragic blow as he too swung vigorously in the mayhem. For the slightest of moments his instincts fell dumb. Then a cowardly arrow from afar pierced his eye. The king, and his two royal protectors had been executed.