The lords and ladies at the center of the large entry room of Rikaydian palace all rose from their seats, many dragging their chairs with them toward the center of the room as they were immediately surrounded by Kesten’s warriors. Many of the nobility had served as officers at some point, so they wouldn’t be completely ignorant to their current plight.
One of the lords, an older gentleman, wasn’t quick enough, and fell to the blade of a glaive. Screams crescendoed through the large room.
Hatan clenched his teeth and sprinted at the nearest thug, driving his sword straight through the man’s back. Another soldier saw it happen and nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Hatan. “Regent,” he stammered.
He knew who Hatan was then. Good. Better to die knowing one’s killer. Hatan retrieved the glaive from the man he stabbed, then spun toward the other soldier. He deflected two blows before Hatan took him straight across the hip.
Then the world shook.
Everyone fell to the floor, Hatan included. It was like a crash of thunder, but it rippled through every fiber of nature and drowned out every sound. The palace walls trembled, dust cascading from the ceiling. It seemed like Malahem itself was displeased with Vitori’s uprising.
Hatan struggled to his hands and knees, but it felt like a force was driving him to the ground. They needed to get the nobles out of the palace, rally Hatan’s forces, and oust Vitori. Not a simple task when all the nobles were completely surrounded. The dizzying feeling subsided, but the ground continued to tremble. Hatan leapt to his feet, running on shaky legs. He reached the next soldier over, who was still struggling to stand. Even from that position, he jabbed a glaive at Hatan. Hatan batted it away and dispatched the soldier with one stroke.
He was so vastly outnumbered however, that even taking out one soldier felt meaningless. There were nearly two-hundred enemy soldiers in the room, with more coming.
The roaring ground grew quiet enough that screams and shouts finally broke out over the din. Fortunately, some of the nobles had gotten the idea that they needed to flee the palace, and they were leading the rest of them toward the palace doors. Most of them were armed only with their brasswood chairs, holding them up as shields. His best chance was to join them and help them push through, if possible. Worst case scenario, they’d have to hold off long enough for Falshon to get in through the main door so that they could evacuate the nobility. If they survived. One lord had already been killed, and a few others seemed injured.
Hatan ran at the backs of the nearest soldiers, cutting one down, and bashing another one in the head with the butt of the glaive. This got him through the scattered line. He went to the front of the group of nobles. “We need to reach the front doors,” he shouted. “Hold those chairs out. We can’t move too fast.”
It was a snail’s pace. They were going to get butchered. Several of the nobility were slowed by injury, and a few of them already had to use canes just to walk anyway.
Hatan ignored the gasps and pleas of the other nobles. He didn’t have time to address them all. They needed to survive. He ran down the line, charging at a couple spearmen near the front who were preventing them from moving on. He slid toward them, countering a few jabs. Fortunately, Captain Akailen was one of the lords who was helping direct the retreat. Seizing the moment of distraction, he ran forward with his chair, ramming it down on the spear nearest him. He was also armed with a shortsword that he thrust through the soldier’s chest just as Hatan cut down the other spearman.
Akailen grunted and said, “Good to see you alive, regent.” He grabbed the spear and handed it back to one of the other nobles. Hatan did the same with the other.
A dozen more soldiers stood between them and the door. The trembling in the ground stopped at that moment, and more soldiers came pouring in from the palace. They’d be surrounded within seconds.
They had to rush them. It would get bloody, but there was no other way.
Hatan shared a knowing look with Akailen. “Charge!” he bellowed. Akailen repeated the order. A couple other nobles understood the order, but it was just the four of them rushing at twelve opponents. Half of their enemies were well-armed soldiers, and the others were more of those mercenary thugs. Tilayna should never have brought them to Jehubal. Her mistakes haunted the city, even in her death.
A lord who’d taken one of the spears was one step behind, and a lady—none other than Sinteya Jenali herself—came in holding the other.
Hatan charged without pause, slashing side to side to parry attacks from several weapons. It was hard to single anybody out with the sheer diversity of weapons.
“To your left,” Sinteya shouted, coming up beside him, thrusting her spear into the arm of one of Vitori’s goons.
Hatan was just glad she had the sense to warn him. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d seen soldiers accidentally injure their comrades as they fought in a line. He focused on the right side, stepping back despite his desire to move forward. An ax ripped off the right sleeve of his shirt before he was able to roll back and swing his glaive into the attacker’s arm.
In her eagerness to make progress, Sinteya stepped a little too far forward, getting close enough for a sword edge to cut her on the back of the wrist. Hatan rolled toward her and slashed her attacker across the back, but a spear grazed him across the back of his neck.
Sands. That was way too close. This was why he hated fighting without his armor. Luck was the only thing that had spared him there, but he wasn’t sure how much more luck they even had. The surge of nobles started shoving from the back, forcing Hatan and the others forward. They’d get forced into the enemy lines.
Beside him, Sinteya braced her injured hand and instead resorted to one handed jabs merely as a support to Hatan.
Her efforts were better than nothing, but Hatan could barely keep up with the onslaught. Captain Akailen took a jab to the leg, and the other lord got stabbed in the shoulder. Some of the other nobles held out their chairs as they got squished up beside Hatan. He got shoved forward and one of the enemy soldiers hit his elbow with the pointed edge of a poleaxe. He gritted his teeth against the pain.
It took everything he had just to deflect the flurry of attacks. Everyone was getting wounded. They were about to be slaughtered.
The door to the palace crashed open and a rangola burst through the opening, followed by another. It was Genda and Bahdin! Hatan and Migo’s rangolas. He let out a low whistle, signaling the trained rangolas to attack. They leapt in without any hesitation, taking down four of the enemy soldiers before they could even react. Falshon came in right behind them, Emil and Rivar standing with him.
“Charge,” Falshon roared. The remaining soldiers ran away in panic, but four more of them got caught between both sides.
“Get these civilians out of here!” Hatan yelled, moving to the side and ushering the nobles toward the door. Sinteya nodded to him as she ran for the doors.
He returned his attention to the battle as Bahdin came up beside him, snarling at the enemy soldiers. She was well-trained, but would only attack as he confirmed targets. “Jum!” Hatan shouted, pointing his glaive at the enemy lines. She pounced forward in a low jump. A spear glanced off her scaled upper hide, and Hatan moved in beside her to attack the spearman.
“How many do we have?” Hatan shouted over to Falshon.
The captain came to fight beside Hatan as they ushered the nobles out the doors and forced a safe pass for them. “Half the city, regent,” Falshon said, withdrawing his glaive from the gut of a mercenary. “We spread word regarding Vitori’s overthrow, and the militia came running.”
Hatan parried a blow aimed at Falshon’s hip, batted away a sword thrust, elbowed a soldier in the face, then hacked a different man across the shoulder. Bahdin ran through the enemy line, scattering four opponents away as one of them fell to her claws with a terrified scream.
With a moment to breath, he glanced back at the main doors. Half the nobles had gotten through, but they were trying to bring reinforcements in at the same time. Emil stood by the door, trying to keep everything coordinated as nobles threw their chairs aside and ran outside.
“Secure more space,” Hatan shouted, running down the line of nobles. He whistled and Bahdin came to run beside him, Falshon a step behind as they worked to push back the line that divided the nobles from Vitori’s thugs. At least two other nobles had fallen. “Sleet,” he cursed, forcing his way to the rear, hacking viciously at the enemy soldiers trying to pick off the nobles.
At the sight of Bahdin, the soldiers immediately withdrew their focus from murdering the nobles, and instead formed up to face Hatan, Bahdin, and Falshon. They were wary to face up against a battle trained rangola, as expected.
Rivar showed up as well, waving his longsword at the nearest enemy soldier as a warning. “Regent. Figured you needed some backup. Good to see you alive and well.”
“For the moment at least,” Hatan said, jabbing at his current opponent. He spun his weapon around, grazing the top of a soldier’s head before kicking him away. “Jum!” he said to Bahdin. She leapt in without hesitation, finishing off the injured soldier.
Hatan and the two others moved in to support her. All three of them were trained on how to support a rangola in combat. She would need plenty of support from the sides to ensure she didn’t get surrounded, but Bahdin was skilled in penetrating a line. She knew to keep her head low and rely on her scaled hide to stay safe.
They held off at the front for the rest of the nobles to finally make it out of the palace doors. Hatan led the group back to get more of a reprieve while more forces came in through the door.
Falshon was right. All kinds of people had come to fight against Vitori, and though not all of them wore armor, everyone had a weapon. Emil helped filter them out, putting experienced soldiers at the front with untrained citizens in the rear.
