A Whisper to the North

Chapter LXV ✠ A Whisper to the North

King Amon was sitting on his throne with Wilona at his side, speaking to him. They were discussing the troops that have sent word back that they are on Wessex's doorstep. Once they conquer Wessex, they can subdue all the other armies, and then they can take back all of Bryttania.

"Father, may we keep Una until she gives birth? Then I can get others to dispose of her and keep the child she took away from me!" Wilona begged.

"Do whatever you wish, my child, but I must ask why you choose to spare her? Are you not content with your future children you will have?" Amon asked.

"Of course, but this child is special. It's of Arawn's blood, Marchosia's dark lord. Besides, you know I am barren, so it will prove difficult to try to have another. My magick might be too strong for my body now since I am not getting any younger." Wilona said.

"Would it not displease, Arawn, for us to end Una? You are thinking foolishly. Remember Wilona, Arawn can read your heart and soul, and he will end them both if he suspects malice from anyone to Una."

"Well, shouldn't you be dead already, and Yvar? Arawn should have mascaraed half of the people Una encounters. Everyone hates her." Wilona laughed.

"Yes, well, she is still Arawn's child. I believe it is purely up to Una, who lives and dies. If she hasn't killed us yet, I doubt Arawn ever will." King Amon scoffed.

"Ahh!" They both heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the guards outside of the door.

They watched as a sword pierced through the door. Splinters shot out, and at the end of the blade, a large thick tendril of blood dripped.

"Father!" Wilona screamed.

"Guards!" Amon stood.

The door slowly opened. Pinned on the door was a guard who was held up by Una's sword. A large gush of blood was spewing out of the guard's chest. Amon stood there in fright, gazing at the woman. He was frightened by her. She was tall, shapely, and well-muscled. A freighting but beautiful beast Una was, staring harshly at Amon with a wide grin.

"Gods!" Amon exclaimed to himself.

"Hello, grandfather," Una said, low and firm.

In her hand was the head of the other guard. He was beheaded instead of pinned through on the door like the other one. Una threw the head, and it skids across the ground leaving large striations of blood along the way.

"How...how did you get out of the tower!?" Wilona asked angrily.

"Silence, child!" Amon scolded Wilona.

Una laughed to herself as she turned around and walked back to the door.

"You should require your guards to have hair cropped to their shoulders like warriors. Though their hair is lovely, growing it out to your back like nobility makes for a great hold when you're cutting into their flesh." Una sneered as she put her foot on the corpse skewered through the thick wood, and pulled.

She twisted and busted her sword out through the door and cleanly slid it out of the dead guard. He fell limply to the floor as blood surrounded him in an ever-expanding pool of rich dark crimson.

"Una Pendragon." King Amon hissed.

"That is not the title I use." Una grinned as she slung her blade in the air and flung the blood in a thick streak across the floor.

"You are no queen, there are only one true king and queen, and they sit on this throne," Amon said.

Una began to walk toward them as a line of guards braced themselves in front of Wilona and Amon. Her white dress was covered in blood up to her knees. Her face was freckled with tiny droplets of blood. She could taste the tannins of blood in her mouth. She had mascaraed half of the King's guards as she found her way to the throne room.