Blade and Soul by C.M. Estopare

Author:C.M. Estopare [Estopare, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Norse, assassins, Magic, Dragons, royalty, norse mythology, Dark Fantasy
Publisher: C.M. Estopare
Published: 2017-06-25T23:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

Marceline

The sobbing ceased. Replaced by the callous roar of hungry flame.

Marceline set foot in the vestibule, following after Ludovic who froze in the doorway. Sliding her way past him, she coughed. Her throat raked by the acrid scent of smoke pouring in from the outside.

The entire vineyard quickly caught flame, the growing blaze's orange tongue swallowing up purple grapes and swirling vines.

Everything, everything was lost.

Failure shriveled Marceline's tongue. She was getting used to the taste.

Trudging into the vestibule, she tried hard to ignore the dried coat of blood painting the walls. The floor. Entrails dotted her path, and she kicked slimy pink parts away. Made her way towards Florent who sat at the very back of the vestibule beneath the balcony two stories above.

From some ways away, slowly marching soles moaned against the ground. Remy walked. Stooped to pick something up and continued.

Marceline listened to Ludovic sigh.

“Keeper,” Marceline called, coming to stand over the vineyard keep's hunched body, “where are your back doors?”

The man cocked his head. Looked at her with his jaw slightly hanging. Blood peppered his face like flour. His eyes were dead. Glazed.

Marceline tapped her foot against the floorboards. Clenched her fists and watched the vineyard keep stare at her dumbly.

“An alternative exit—show us—now.”

He simply stared. Cocked his head again and swam in her eyes. His every breath shallow. Light.

She was quick in her anger. Unrestrained as she yanked him by the sturdy collar of his garments and forced him to stand. Pulled him to herself and choked him with his own clothing, “Answer me.”

Silence. He would say nothing, do nothing, but stare.

Gritting her teeth, she thought of hitting him. Thought of pummeling the answer out of him as the smoke in the vestibule grew thicker. As the fire grew brighter and the world dimmed all around her.

Remy's moaning boots did not cease.

Quickly stomping boots came closer. Approached her at a hastily limping pace.

“You're...you're going to be okay buddy...I'll just...get every part of you...” Remy’s voice.

Grunting, Marceline flung the vineyard keep to the floor. Eyed him with a pointed gaze, raised her hands and threw them to her sides.

The stomping stopped. Ludovic approached her.

“There's probably another door in the kitchens here on the ground floor. We'll find it.”

“Before the smoke smothers us?”

Ludovic winced. His fingers splayed by his sides, blackened. Welted. Red skin shone like flame upon his blistered hands. His face blanched, the color leaving him as he turned on his heel. Ignored Marceline's question for Remy's attention, “Drop it, Rem. All of it. Let it go.”

Marceline gasped at the state of his hands. They trembled near his sides, trembling uncontrollably.

He'll never be able to use them again...

She swallowed. Scanned the room for Remy.

Remy stood like an animal hunted. A doe in the cross-hairs of a crossbow. In her bloodied arms she cradled Aldric's remains. Marceline forced herself to watch as Remy stooped to snatch up what Marceline could only describe as Aldric's lungs. Purpled and twisted. Scarred from being ripped from his body.

She had never seen entrails outside of a body—only in pictures had she seen anything like this.

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