As he and Catherine ran into the thick forest, William's memories of Tazan were still raging. The undergrowth was dense, their route was perilous, and Westham patrols were a constant menace. Every stride away from the village was a step toward independence but also a step into uncertainty.
Under the cover of old oaks, they took sanctuary in a hunter's hut that had been abandoned. It provided refuge and a brief sense of security, but the air was musty. Catherine's presence was a comfort to William's exhausted spirit as she cared for his wounds with forceful yet compassionate hands.
Their relationship grew stronger as the days stretched into weeks. A web of connection was woven between them through whispered dreams, shared stories, and snatched glances. Love developed during the peaceful times, when crickets were chirping and leaves were rustling.
However, "Sukas Dem" cast a looming shadow. King Russell issued a proclamation requiring every lady of noble birth who turned 25 to marry a man of his choosing or be put to death. Given her noble ancestry, Catherine was a prime target. (Venere.it)
William suggested a covert union because he was determined to keep her safe. They exchanged vows in a remote glade under the starlight, with no one else to witness the ceremony. They made straightforward, sincere, and legally enforceable pledges.
They started looking for allies the following morning as the sun peeked through the woods. They arrived at a secret community of dissidents who had endured Russel's oppression and were looking for reform. One of them was Robert Bruce, a well-known figure.
Bruce, who was believed to have died in the cave's fires, was standing in front of them, wounded but still alive. His perseverance and the tenacity of their mission were demonstrated by his survival. He greeted them with information, resources, and a fresh sense of direction.
They came up with schemes to overthrow Russell's government together. Their daily activities shifted to sabotage missions, intelligence collection, and mobilizing the underprivileged. In the hearts of the oppressed, hope started to flicker.
But the calm was short-lived. When William returned from a reconnaissance expedition one evening, he discovered the enclave in disarray. Tents were ripped apart, supplies were strewn around, and stress was in the air.
There was no sign of Catherine.
On their makeshift bed was a hastily written note that said, "I must confront my history in order to protect you. Have faith in our affection. —C.
William felt panic sweep through him. His eyes were filled with desperation as he turned to face Bruce.
"We have to find her," he said.
Bruce grimaced as he nodded. "Then we must venture into the heart of darkness—Westham itself."
The burden of their task weighed hard on them as they readied themselves for the treacherous voyage. Even though the road ahead was dangerous, they were driven forward by duty and love.
As he and Robert Bruce scuttled through the brush toward Westham's edge, smoke was still in William's lungs. Like an unbreakable vow, Catherine's note blazed in his pocket.
As their feet stirred the fallen leaves and their ears strained for any sound of pursuit, they moved in silence. A tall stone wall with guards patrolling beneath flickering lamps was visible as the trees grew thinner.
Bruce pointed to a small opening between two watchtowers and muttered, "Stay low." With his heart thumping against his ribs, William nodded. Even at this distance, the king's gaze was on him.
William froze when he heard a sentry shout. The guard waved his torch back and forth. Neither man moved for a second. The guard was knocked off balance when Bruce winked and bounded forward. William trailed behind, his heart pounding, until they both fell into a narrow ditch beneath the wall.
William's nose clogged with dust. After spitting, he gave Bruce the blade. "Go," he said. "I'll take care of you."
William squatted in the shadows above, and Bruce ascended quickly, ascending the stone. From within the castle courtyard, moonlight glinted on steel as soldiers trained and armor clanked. The gate opened beneath them, and a carriage with wheels crunching on cobblestone rolled out.
Bruce knelt down and gestured to William. Half forgotten, half unbarred, they arrived at a side entrance. The stench of old bread and sweat filled a passageway within. The walls were lit with torches. A woman sobbing and the sound of pacing footsteps were heard in the distance.
William picked up his pace. Catherine's tears, that is. That was a dread he understood.
They came to a little cell at the end of a short hallway after turning a bend. The chilly stone was adorned with chains. William saw her through iron bars: Catherine, kneeling on hard ground, her eyes wide with fear and relief, her silver hair matted.
"Will," she muttered, her voice trembling.
The lock was surprisingly brittle, so he wrenched the bars open. Stumbling forward into his arms, she stood up. He held her until she leaned back and stared at his face as her body went limp. "You arrived."
He planted a kiss on her forehead and said, "Always." There was a catch in his voice. "I promise never to abandon you again."
She held on to him while crying. "If I didn't wed the prince—" they said.
He balled his fists up. "We'll put an end to that. Tonight, "Sukas Dem" will come to an end.
Bruce slipped up next to them and looked down the hallway. "We need to move. Soldiers could arrive at any moment."
William lifted Catherine's arms, her wrists bruised by chains. Bruce brought a small knife; William pried the shackles free. She winced and steadied herself.
They backed away, stepping into the corridor. Suddenly, a heavy boot echoed behind them. William froze.
A tall guard blocked their path, sword drawn, eyes cold. "Thought you could slip away, traitor?"
William's grip on his father's blade tightened. "Let us pass."
The guard sneered. "Not without a fight."
Bruce lunged, blade flashing. William followed. Sparks flew as metal clashed. Catherine huddled against the wall, watching the struggle. One guard fell with a groan; another pressed forward, swinging a mace.
William ducked and countered, but the guard's blow grazed his arm. Pain stabbed him. He tasted copper.
Bruce tackled the second guard. The hallway filled with shouts—footsteps pounding, torches swinging into view. More soldiers surged in.
"Catherine!" William shouted. "Stay behind me!"
She nodded, fists trembling at her sides. William squared his shoulders, raising his sword.
The soldiers closed in. William could feel the weight of every lost buddy, every promise to his father and brother. In one breath, he yelled a promise he would never keep silent again.
Then, from the darkness beyond the archway, a voice came out—smooth as ice: "William Moses, you dare to challenge me in my own halls?"
William's blood froze. He gazed behind the line of warriors to see King Russel walk from the shadows, crown glinting, cloak skimming the floor.
"End of the line," Russel remarked, holding his arms wide as more guards amassed.
William tightened his grip on the blade, Catherine gripping his hand. Bruce raised his blade.
Russel smiled, and the torches flared brighter.
"Choose your last words wisely, William," the monarch said.
William's heart thundered. Catherine pleaded with him to have strength in her eyes. Bruce took a defiant stand.
The hallway suddenly seemed too narrow. The torches flickered, the walls seemed to breathe, and the gap between life and death shrank to the size of a single heartbeat.
He brought his sword up. "This is over!"
With a laugh, Russell pulled out his rapier. "I don't think so."
As they charged, Steel sang.
However, a loud roar shook the castle before their blades could collide. The ceiling shook, causing dust and tiny stones to fall on them.
William's heart was racing as he looked up.
The enormous iron chandelier above them swung down on them with dreadful speed as it broke free from its moorings.
There was anarchy.
The corners were dancing with flames. The soldiers dispersed. William reached for Catherine, but the chandelier fell, shattering everything in their path.
Will they all be crushed by the chandelier? And in his own castle, has Russell let loose something even more sinister?