The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (46 page)

BOOK: The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe)
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“Go to hell,” Colonel Gunter hissed.

“Then I'll gladly take the Queen with me.” John Drake pressed the sword blade into her skin.

Elizabeth's mother grimaced and bit down on her gag.

Blood seeped from her cut and trickled down to her shirt.

“Please don't hurt her!” Elizabeth surged forward. “I'll go with you!”

Colonel Gunter extended his hand to block her. “Elizabeth, don't,” he rasped over his shoulder. “It's a trick. Let me handle this.”

“Perhaps I wasn't being clear.” John Drake slid the blade a few inches more across the Queen's bleeding throat. “I intend to decapitate your mother, if Colonel Gunter refuses to hand you over.”

The former Queen began to sputter, choking on her own blood. Her gag turned bright red.

Colonel Gunther knew that her wound was deep enough to slit her gu
llet. John Drake was aware that his ruse would never work on him, so he purposely made the Queen suffer to entice Elizabeth to the bargain instead.

Elizabeth took the bait. “Stop! Stop, please!” She rushed onward, pushing away the Colonel’s ou
tstretched arm. “Let her go! I'll do whatever you want!”

Colonel Gunter grabbed her by the right wrist, just as John Drake reached for her left arm.

“I've no more use for you!” The Duke slashed Elizabeth's mother's throat with the sword he held with his other hand in one swift stroke.

It all happened so fast, yet Eli
zabeth saw everything in slow motion.

The
jagged silver blade lacerating her Mother's delicate flesh ... the spray of her Mother’s blood spattering on her face ... the sweet and salty taste of the crimson droplets that slid to her lips ... her mother's large, lifeless eyes rolling back in their sockets as her head was severed ... the dreadful crack when her Mother’s skull hit the asphalt before it rolled to her feet ...

Elizabeth stared blankly at her mom's decapitated remains and felt numb, floating in a dream-state.

A sharp pull jolted her. Chad—, she must go to him. Another strong jerk drew her away. She blinked, shaking away the dull ringing in her ears and recognized the man who had dealt the lethal injury to her mother. Chad and the man were in a tug of war for her.

All around them, the battle had resumed, though she didn't notice e
xactly when. Only one thing penetrated her trance.
She must get away from the dangerous man.

“Get your hand off me!” She stru
ggled, wrenching her arm, but he wouldn't let go.

Chad suddenly gave her a forceful yank and she crashed against him—, with the man still holding on to her arm. She caught the sheen of a silver sword and heard the snap of fracturing bone.

John Drake stared in dismay at his arm, amputated at the wrist in the blink of an eye by Colonel Gunter. He'd miscalculated how agile the
Angel of Death
was with a sword.

“Colonel Reynolds!” he bellowed, ignoring the shooting pain as he l
ocated his severed hand and reset it back into place.

Colonel Reynolds materialized from the clashing mob. “Your Grace! Are you all right?” He ripped off a wide belt from a fallen soldier and wrapped it around the Duke's arm and hand, to s
ecure the contact into place for the few minutes it will take to regenerate.

“Where the hell is General Robi
nson?” John yelled over the commotion.

“I haven't seen him, Your Grace.”

“Damn it! His team was supposed to deal with Elizabeth!”

“Most of his men have fallen, Your Grace.”

John cursed loudly. “Gather all the men you can and go after them!” He pointed at the retreating figure of Colonel Gunter and Elizabeth quickly disappearing into the throng. “And order all Officers to burn the casualties' remains. We must not leave any prisoners for the European Army to interrogate!”

Colonel Gunter knew that escape wouldn’t be easy. Engaging in combat while trying to protect Elizabeth would greatly hamper his abilities. He could've finished off John Drake, but his focus was unfairly divided and time was of the essence. “Major Greer! Clear the way and cover for us!”

The Major and his men efficiently modified their formation into an inverted triangle and began to push forward. The enemy came at them in rapid succession. Almost immediately, their progress halted. His men were fighting ten to one, the clink of their swords deafening, body armors covered in blood. They were doomed to lose.

Colonel Gunter glanced at Elizabeth. Terror was written all over her face, but for them to hold off until reinforcements came, he knew he must support his men.

“Stay inside the perimeter,” he pulled her towards the center, “and watch out for the swords.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn't object.

“I need to help my men.” He handed her one of the daggers from his belt. “If anything goes wrong, use this to defend yourself.” He closed her fingers over the hilt. “Don't wait for me, do you understand?”

“No!” Her eyes glazed with tears.

“Don't wait for me!” He let go of her hand and threw himself into battle.

Chapter 62

Battle of the Descendants (Part III)

 

       Elizabeth stood trembling in the middle of the safe circle, increasingly aware that the protective boundary around her was rapidly shrinking. Major Greer and his men fought bravely, but they had sustained wounds and were weary. Chad took on the most number of enemies, but he was only one man and couldn't be everywhere at once.

Suddenly, she was seized from b
ehind. Startled, the dagger slipped from her grasp to the ground. An arm coiled around her neck in a headlock. She shifted her weight and kicked backwards.

“Easy, Princess.”

She would never forget that voice. It had come from the same attacker who had killed her mom. He wrapped another arm about her, restraining her arms against her waist. She buckled her knees, but he effortlessly dragged her away. Her gaze wandered to the mayhem surrounding them.

Major Greer and his men were deep in combat and Chad had more than his share of opponents. And now, this madman and his comrades were successfully hau
ling her towards the perimeter breach.

She drew what breath she could from his suffoca
ting hold, and screamed.

Colonel Gunter swiveled at the sound of her pier
cing cry.

A dangerous mistake. The split-second distraction cost him a stab at the back. He swung around, neatly lo
pping off the perpetrator's head, but another two took his place. He caught sight of Elizabeth. John Drake had taken her! He felt a cut on his shoulder. Angered, he gashed the culprit's belly with his sword.

More men moved in, but his attention was els
ewhere. He needed to get to Elizabeth before she and John disappeared without a trace!

A searing pain lanced through his left side. He gasped for breath. Som
eone had struck him and hit his lung. He swerved his sword at the offender on his right and swiftly cut his torso into two. But an endless stream of foes simply replaced him.

He surveyed his position.

Major Greer and the rest of the men had been swallowed into the swarm of the Duke's army. He estimated the time that had elapsed—, perhaps fifteen minutes or more had passed. Anytime now, General Bradford's reinforcements would arrive. However, he wasn't certain if the Major, his men, and even himself, would survive this extensive assault until then. 

For the first time in his career, Colonel Gunter elected to retreat from the enemy in front of him. His mission was to keep Elizabeth safe. He'd pro
mised to protect her. And so heedless of the wounds he'd suffered, he fought his way into hostile territory and gave chase to John Drake.

John Drake was furious. Elizabeth was fighting ev
ery inch of the way and Colonel Gunter was swiftly catching up. “Colonel Reynolds! Take some men with you and fall back! I'll make a diversion to distract Colonel Gunter. Make your move from behind!” 

Colonel Reynolds nodded and immediately disa
ppeared with his men into the crowd.

John Drake stopped in the middle of the street and swung Elizabeth around with her back against him. He held her by the throat with one hand and pointed a da
gger over her heart with the other.

Colonel Gunter instantly stopped in his tracks from a few yards away and drew his sword, approaching them with slow, calculated steps.

“Stay back!” John Drake spotted Colonel Reynolds and his men sneaking up behind him.

“Chad! Look out!” Elizabeth shrieked.

Colonel Gunter knew it was a trap. He moved just in time to avoid the thrust of a sword to his left. Another blade swished close to his ear. He swung his weapon low, slicing an assailant's thigh. His shoulder blade stung. He need not look to know how seriously it had been cut.

He saw the gleam of a blade ove
rhead. A loud clink sounded as he raised his sword and their cutting edges collided.

He felt a rip on his side. His flank burned and co
ntracted. But before it even subsided, another nick elicited a twinge that spiraled up his leg. He disengaged his weapon with a forceful shove—, only to parry with more swords than he could handle at once.

Damn it! How many more were there?

They came at him in an endless stream. Every painful gash he received, he could hear Elizabeth's anguished squeals. His body ached all over. He needed space to recuperate, but the likelihood was impossible. One wound would barely close, merely to be replaced by another. His physical resistance was struggling to keep up.

“Colonel Gunter!” His attention switched to John Drake just as he ripped Elizabeth's dress down the front. “Take a good look at what you can never have!” he jeered.

Colonel Gunter growled in rage and charged towards him. He wanted to tear John Drake apart and mince his flesh.

“Chad! Behind you!” Elizabeth's desperate shout penetrated his wrath-filled brain.

But her warning came too late.

Excruciating pain radiated from his back and tra
versed through his heart. He looked down to see the anchored tip of a dagger protruding from his chest. One of the Duke's Officers had staked him from the back.

He staggered to a halt and swiveled, swinging his sword in a wide arc. The Officer's head flew off in a rain of blood. Colonel Gunter grimaced at the piercing pain in his chest from his sudden movement. His sword slipped from his grip with a loud clang unto the pav
ement, next to a gleaming silver eagle pin that had fallen off the Officer's uniform.

From a few paces away, he could hear Elizabeth's panicked cries and saw the crisp slap on her face that John Drake dealt her.

No.
He couldn't die now and leave her with this monster. Not without a good fight!

He clamped both hands on the hooked tip of the dagger and pulled it off his chest. Then, he grabbed his sword and hacked every foe that dared block his way. Through his hazy v
ision, he saw the fear in John Drake's eyes before he flung Elizabeth to the ground and deflected his sword with his own.

They engaged in a flurry of attacks, thrusting and parrying, blades sparking on contact. If he were in better condition, he would've di
spensed of the Duke in a few strokes, but he'd lost a lot of blood and the mortal wound to his heart left him half-coherent. His ravaged body needed rest to recover.

Their blades locked. John Drake was a formidable swordsman. Colonel Gunter knew without a doubt as his r
eflexes slowed, that this would be his first losing battle. With the last of his fading strength, he heaved his sword forcefully to throw off John Drake, and then rushed to Elizabeth's side. She was sprawled on the same spot where John had tossed her, shaking violently in fright. “You must go!” He hauled her to her feet. “Go! Save yourself!”

Her shrill scream coincided with the terrible crac
king of his spine. John had driven his sword between his shoulder blades, sawed it downwards in a single stroke through bone and cartilage, splitting his heart.

Colonel Gunther lurched forward and felt his vigor slip away.

It was time
.

There was nothing more he could do.

“I-I'm sorry... I-I couldn't protect you—” he coughed and choked, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, God! Chad! No ... no!” Eliz
abeth stared at him with tear-filled, petrified eyes. She caught him as he fell on his knees on the pavement.

“Go—!” Colonel Gunter swallowed the flood of his own blood in his throat. “Go without me—” a series of violent coughs deluged him.

She vehemently shook her head. “No! Chad! Oh God, please—stay with me!” Tears cascaded down her cheeks, as she cradled him on her lap.

Just as his eyesight began to fail, he heard her whisper in his ear. “I love you, Chad.” She stroked his hair with a trembling hand and kissed him on the for
ehead. “I will love you, always.”

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