A Prince of Fire

Chapter 36: Caspen

As soon as Tressa disappeared through the front door, Caspen felt his body relax slightly. She would get to Clementine; she would keep her safe. Hopefully.

Caspen turned to the two assassins who had stopped them. He barely recognized them in the smoke filled hall. They were both tall and muscular, their bare arms covered with scars and burns. The one on the left was holding a sword, the other one had a small dagger. They grinned wickedly at him, like cats trapping a mouse. They knew Caspen was at a disadvantage but they certainly didn't know that he was ready for it; whatever they planned to do, he was ready.

Neither of them spoke; they weren't here for small talk. They gave each other a brief look and Caspen used this distraction to make the first attack. He lunged forward, swinging his right foot up and kicking the nearest one in the side of the head. He stumbled into the second, holding his face. Caspen sent another kick in his groin just as the man holding the sword stepped forward. Caspen ducked in time to avoid getting his head sliced off and grabbed his sword hand. Caspen used his strength to push upward in hopes that he would let go, but Caspen knew it was useless; the man was stronger than him. Caspen let go and backed away just as the other man landed a punch to his nose. Caspen felt the warm sticky blood run down his chin, and he spat at the man, grabbing him by the shoulders and kneeing him in the face.

He flew backwards, dagger falling out of his hands, and Caspen side-stepped in time to avoid the sword as it flung through the air where he had been standing. He moved like lightning, dodging the beefy man and his sword. Caspen turned, facing the man as he raised his sword above his head. Caspen was ready for it. He raised his chained arms just as he brought the sword down and the sound of metal breaking metal filled the room. Caspen's hands were free of the chains.

Caspen whipped the chains forward and cringed when it smacked into the side of the man's face. He stumbled backwards and Caspen dove for the dagger and as his hand wrapped around the hilt, the sword came down again and he managed to roll sideways. The man Caspen kneed in the face was slowly recovering, stumbling to get to his feet. Caspen jumped up and backed away as the sword slashed through the air again.

Now, with his hands freed and a weapon in my possession, Caspen knew he would make it. The man he kneed glared at him with such hatred and blood dripped down his putrid face. He ran towards Caspen, not noticing the dagger in his hand, and raised his fist just as Caspen sunk the dagger into his stomach twice, three times, before he fell to the ground. Caspen didn't hesitate; he didn't feel any remorse and he turned to the man with the sword. He barely glanced at his fallen comrade and pointed his sword at him.

"You won't get away with this Caspen," he growled. "The boss will find you and your little girly friends and he'll make you watch as he tortures them."

Caspen jumped, swinging his foot up to his shoulder, landing a swift kick and barely managed to duck in time to avoid getting stabbed. The man took a step back as Caspen darted forward, using his arm to push the sword away, He thrusted the dagger into his side. The man cried out, holding his side with his free hand and Caspen used that opportunity to sink the dagger into his neck.

He gurgled and choked on his blood, his eyes wide as he watched him. "I won't let him touch Clementine or Tressa; not while I live." Caspen growled, watching in sick satisfaction as he fell to the ground.

Caspen stood there, panting before the smoke filled his lungs and his breathing turned into coughing. His nose ached terribly and he could taste blood in his mouth. He didn't have time to worry about that, however, because the sound of Clementine's scream reached his ears.

He knew it was her. Nobody else's scream made his skin crawl like that. He turned to the corridor leading to the West Wing, where the fire had started. Her scream echoed through his ears and his heart pounded vigorously. She was in trouble.

Without thinking, he ran away from the two dead bodies lying in the smoke filled hall, and made his way towards the West Wing. To Clementine.