Dragon Knights – Kirin
Pheonix DeLoures
Chapter Five

“The alarm!” Gwyn screeched again, her eyes wide. “Mother, Papa! Where do I go!? What do I do?” She cried, almost collapsing into tears.

Kirin knew that the alarm usually meant that bandits or raiders were attacking the town and that soon enough Soldiers from the Castle would be on their way on the fastest horses, and what had taken him an hour and a half to travel on foot would only take twenty minutes on horseback, but by then many people could be dead.

He’d been on the Alarm patrol at the castle only once when the alarm had gone off, but now he knew the urgency the town’s people felt while waiting for the Soldier to arrive. Well, Kirin was no longer a simple Soldier, bound by the day’s duty to watch the town and listen for the alarm, he was a Knight, and it was his honor’s duty to protect these people. Gwyn screeched again, and he looked down at her. And Gwyn’s parents were there.

“Gwyn, I’m lost, and I need to get back to the market, maybe I can help,” He grabbed hold of her shoulders, and turned her to face him. She nodded, the tears in her eyes shining in the light of the suns.

“Follow me.” She said, darting around him. He ran after her, trying to keep up as she ducked down alleyways, dashed around corners and finally skidded to a halt next to a large rain barrel with the lid leaning against the side. He came to a stop behind her, boots scraping in the gravel at his feet.

There was already carnage everywhere; carts were overturned, their wares spread across the ground, mingling with the blood of the townspeople whose bodies lay amongst the slaughter of their tiny market town. The sight of death was nothing new to Kirin, but this was something different. These were not bandits as the bandits and raiders had been before, simply taking from the wares; people expected those kind of bandits. This was killing for the sake of killing, murder simply for the fun of it. He could see on the far side of the square a group of women had been tied and thrown on the ground, amongst them girls who looked no older than Gwyn did.

Gwyn made a small noise, a mewling sound in her throat, and he realised that she was probably thinking of her parents and friends. Without time for thinking, Kirin grabbed hold of her small frame, and tucked her into the rain barrel, clamping the lid down on top, and tossing his heavy sack of armor and boots on top. He knew they had to be enough for now, as he didn’t have time to put them on, and didn’t have time to hide Gwyn.

“Stay in here,” he told her, hoping she would understand, “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

Sword drawn, Kirin rushed into the fray, taking note of the townspeople with pitchforks and some with older swords. ‘Family weapons,” He thought, as he ran his sword through the back of the first unsuspecting bandit. Unfortunately, this led to the others noticing him. His sword sung through the air, as he lashed at the first one who approached him. The man was large and burly, his movements slow. Kirin waited for the man to strike first, and cleanly ran him through with his sword.

The second man to approach seemed more cautious, his squinty eyes inspecting Kirin. He lashed quicky, Kirin blocked. The sound of steel ringing through the air charged Kirin’s blood. He felt the crackle of bloodlust, but calmed it, as he always had. Something about the sound of steel ringing on steel made the hair on his neck stand on end. Again the second man lashed quickly, again Kirin blocked it. He waited for his opening, and when the man struck again, Kirin ducked underneath the blow and rammed the blade into the man’s gut. He ripped the blade sideways, and dashed toward an elderly man who was being menaced by another large bandit.

Kirin cut the burly bandit’s Achilles tendon and the man buckled to the ground backward. His large body hit the ground with an inelegant thump, and Kirin slashed his blade across the man’s throat. He flicked a glance at the old man, who stared at him with a blank expression on his face.

Deciding that the older man could deal with himself, Kirin dashed toward the area the bandits were keeping the captured women. He leapt over a few bodies, and screeched to a halt with his blade sticking out the front of yet another bandit. He wrenched his sword from the body, dropping the murderer to the ground. The other three who were guarding the women turned on him, ugly looks on their faces. Kirin could see that most of the women were bloodied, pieces of clothing torn from their bodies. Even the young girls.

Again he could feel the bloodlust rising, and again he pushed the sickening feeling down. He attacked the bandit farthest to the left first, rushing at him. Their blades met, their eyes locked. Steel screeched against steel, vibrating through Kirin’s shoulders. He snarled and pushed the other man backwards. The man stumbled a step and Kirin kicked him hard in the knee. If he had been wearing his Soldier boots, the blow would have broken the other man’s knee, as it was, he just stumbled some more, dropping his sword. Kirin rammed the hilt of his sword into the man’s nose, could feel the bone and cartilage crunch beneath the force of the blow. The man fell to the ground, too injured for Kirin to care if he still lived or not. He kicked the man’s sword off to his left, far enough that the man would have to crawl a great deal to get it. He whirled to face the other two behind him.

They attacked at the same time, Kirin blocked the blow of the first and stepped backwards in time to narrowly avoid being slashed across the face by the other. The second man advanced, pressing Kirin backwards as the other circled out of his vision. He knew the other man was going to strike him from behind, and he wasn’t wearing his armor. He lunged at the man in front of him, Locking his blade against the other man’s, he thrust forward, hoping th knick the man off balance, but to no avail. Apparently the man had seen him do this trick before. Kirin was pushed back, and stumbled a step. He whirled around, blade outstretched, and felt his blade bite deep into the man who had been sneaking around behind him. The man had been no more than a half a foot behind Kirin, sword raised to take off Kirin’s head. Kirin pulled his sword from the man’s gut, and ran him through again, before whirling around to the other man, sword at the ready.

A dark haired woman was practically on top of him, her deep green eyes met his as he realised that she had just landed on his sword. He could feel her blood rushing warm against his hands, and he peeled his eyes from hers to look up and see the bandit rushing away. He heard the sounds of the Soldiers in the distance, coming to save the town again, but this time they were too late. Way too late. The woman who was now leaning against him, his blade sticking out her back, caught his gaze again with her familiar emerald eyes. Her eyes started to go dim, the life draining away.

“Gwyn...” She murmured sadly, her quiet voice reminiscent of bells tinkling. An older man came over to them and laid his hands on Kirin’s shoulders, and started to pick up the woman’s body. The woman who was clearly Gwyn’s mother. Kirin released his sword dumbly, staring at the still body of the beautiful woman. The man set her down on the ground and pulled the sword from her body. Another woman came over, with a piece of cloth that the man used to clean Kirin’s sword. The sword was placed back into Kirin’s hand, but he couldn’t grip it. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t get his thoughts together. The sword clattered to the ground as another horrifying sound split the air.

“Mother!” Wailed Gwyn from the ground where she hand tumbled only moments before after freeing herself from the barrel. “Mother, No!” she cried, scrambling across the dirty, blood-strewn ground. “Mother, please don’t leave me!” She screamed, her voice catching in her throat. “Please, goddess, please don’t take her, please,” She sobbed, crawling towards the body of the woman on the ground. The other people all stood back a ways, some of the closest ones stepping back further. One little girl reached out but was stopped by her mother.

“Mama,” She sobbed as she cradled the dark-haired woman’s head in her arms, “Please mama, wake up, please.” Her sobs shook her tiny body, and to Kirin she appeared even smaller now. “Please, please, please no.”

People around her kept shaking their heads, and finally the little green eyed girl looked at those around her, “Help her!” she cried, beseeching them all with her eyes. They all just shook their head sadly, some even stepped backwards. Her head dropped, her long dark hair a perfect curtain shielding her and her mother’s faces from the gawking townspeople.

Kirin fell to his knees, his fingertips brushing the cold hilt of his sword. He recoiled in disgust, pulling away from the instrument of death, and falling to his shoulder. Now the tears he didn’t know were falling ran across his nose, spilling onto the ground. No one moved to help Gwyn, who had now fallen silent, but the older man from before now came to Kirin and laid his hands on Kirin’s shoulders.

“You saved us, boy; you saved her. There are always casualties in war.” And that was it. The crowd began to disperse, and two men came to take the body. Kirin got to his knees now, grasping his sword, the look of loathing plain on his face. He couldn’t peel his eyes from Gwyn, who looked so vulnerable, cradled around her mother’s corpse, refusing to let go as the men tried to take the body. Kirin stood, sheathed his sword and took halting steps toward her. He fell to his knees next to her and his hand found its way to her shoulder.

With a shudder and a cry, she released her mother and collapsed against him, sobbing.