The Forgotten

Chapter 25

Lynden's powerful first strike with his great two-handed blade caused the soldier's head to roll in front of the other soldiers, all halting and afraid to go next. Not only his head, but the knight before them cut through the soldier's blade, seemingly preventing any block from having an effect.

While the guards froze, Lynden continued to walk forward, having not stopped since blowing the horn. He saw them backing off but noticed another group of guards flanking him. He didn't truly know how many had him cornered, though he knew he had to show no fear. Even with all the guards around him, none wanted to take the first strike.

"Fools, attack him now, or I'll take your lives myself when I'm through with him."Myval commanded, his voice echoing in a deep rumble across the square.

None disobeying the king, they all attacked at once. Closing in around the ebony-clad warrior to stop him from shattering any more weapons. Lynden had made the intended effect but didn't think the fear of the King could make them attack, knowing that many would die at the end of his blade.

Not wanting to lose momentum, Lynden charged the first guard looking to break the circle around him. Dipping his chin into his shoulder, protecting his neck, he held his blade firmly with two hands in a forward thrust.

He ran at the guard as a wild swinging mace connected with Lynden's body. His armour did a good job of preventing broken bones, though a blow like that will still leave a nasty bruise.

Having expected to shatter the knight's ribs, the guard's face drained of all colour and he saw the final moments before his life ended. The charging thrust penetrated the guard's steel armour, the sword going right through his chest out the other side where the guard behind him took a jumping leap back to avoid being stabbed in the chest himself.

Lynden pulled the giant sword from the guard's body; it being a curse and a blessing. The confined space made it hard to manoeuvre, but still the power of such a weapon made every strike deadly.

The brown-clad knight with the black blade while skilled can not fight such numbers. He had killed many already but they were being replaced by others. While he drew the blade from a corpse, he was taking heavy hits to his ribs and leg. The force of so many blows was enough to knock him off balance, yet the hit to his leg while not damaging to the armour caused him to stumble as he stood from the trauma.

Myval looked on at the knight being killed slowly in front of him, laughing before he said, "I thank you for wearing that armour, not only will it look nice on my wall but it will give you a slow death. Then once you're gone, I'll kill these rebels." Gesturing at the prisoners as he finishes.

With a loud cry Lynden, who had been taking so many hits from guard, swung his sword in a wide arch making a full turn around his body.

Shouts of pain were let out as they attempted to parry or avoid the sword stroke. Those who were taken by surprise fell, three guards struck. Two laid unmoving while another was clutching his chest, a great gash in his armour had appeared.

The attackers had the upper hand, they all faltered allowing Lynden to rise. While his armour was tough, the constant strikes he had taken caused small dents to form in the perfectly sculpted breastplate.

As Lynden stood there clearly favouring his left leg, blood started to pool up around the helm and torso. A strike to the head grazed his face causing blood to flow freely from his cheek, staining his armour.

Between heavy breaths, the warrior said, "Let's finish this."

He grasped his sword with two hands, preparing himself to charge again before he heard the sound of horse hooves from behind him.