The Black Death (A Medieval Action/Romance)

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

 

“What have you done!?” Izzie gasped when she entered the town centre, guards holding back the crowds of villagers, as she stared up at Drystan, Dermot, Iagan, Jarred and Brandon held captive on the wooden stage erected in the middle of the square.

Where was Thomas?

Surely her eyes deceived her; Drystan and the others could not be about to be put to death.

Her mind flashed back to the villages she and the others had gone through after Colt had visited them. Innocents nailed to crosses, women raped and children gutted from naval to nose.

Rage erupted in her heart as she thought about the thing she had done for Colt; she had killed her own father.

“You made it!” Colt exclaimed as he saw the Prince, running down from his throne and embracing the young heir, “I grew fearful that you would miss such beauty,” he chuckled, waving his arm out as his guards gathered the first person to be nailed; Iagan.

“Colt!” Izzie stepped forward; she was still his second in command; surely she held some sway, “I would ask you to pause and break words . . . who are these men?” she shared a look with Drystan, hoping he understood what she was trying to do.

“My dear, Izzie,” Colt wrapped his arm around her shoulder and turned her to face the men completely, “Surely you haven’t forgotten your own merry men just yet and how you undermined my men,”

Izzie gritted her teeth; this was a test, she realised.

If she let them die then she would prove that she was with Colt but she couldn’t let them fall; even if it was for the greater good although she saw no good in them dying.

They had started out as acquaintances but it had grown into something more; Iagan had almost saved her life; she had protected Thomas and a bond had grown between them all.

“What would you have me do? Nail them to the crosses myself,” She growled over her shoulder at Colt and the Prince who just stood smiling; she still did not know his name.

“No, of course not!” Colt stepped around and addressed his new people, “I would have games! Our men grow weary and their spirits need lifting!”

Izzie raised her head and braced her shoulders; she would fight the devil himself to free them.

“Bring him out!” Colt roared and a door flung open to reveal Brother Thomas being shoved into the square; a sword thrown to his feet.

“Isadora? What- What is happening?” Thomas squinted against the bright light of the sun.

“Have you lost mind!?” Izzie snapped at Colt, “He is a God-fearing man and has never handled a weapon in his life!”

“Then it will be a simple fight for one with skills such as yours,” Colt growled at her as he took a sword off the guard and shoved it into her chest, “Now . . . kill him and see your friends freed.”

Izzie looked down at the sword gripped in her palm; it was nothing extravagant but sharp to the point, before looking over her shoulder at Thomas who was still turning in circles, trying to figure out what was happening.

Gazing up at the others, good noble warriors, with their hands bound as they waited to be killed Izzie knew what she had to do.

One life to save five and countless others that they would saved in their years to come.