He was tempted to swap sword hands but wasn’t sure his wounded left arm would hold up against the heavier broadsword. The momentary pause as he considered his options was a costly mistake. Ossa flew at him with a left-right combination that Burchard wasn’t able to block in time. The slices across his arms were not deep, but they stung and made it more difficult to react quickly. Backing up a few steps, Burchard hissed as he felt the point of a sword against his spine. Wondering how he let someone get behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and realized it was Reggie who was holding a sword to his back. Burchard lowered his sword.
Ossa grinned at him, sharp teeth flashing. “You didn’t really think your brother would beg you to save him, did you?” Ossa’s head tilted. “See, your brother, he wants the same thing I do—for you to get out of our way.”
Burchard blinked in surprise. Get out of Reggie’s way? What on earth is Ossa talking about? The doors to the garden shuddered. It sounded as though someone was using something to ram them. Hopefully it’s Sir Peter.
Ossa clicked his tongue. “Your friends are not going to be able to rescue you. I took some precautions after you escaped last time.”
Just then the doors blasted off their hinges, sending wood chips spraying over the garden.
The moment Reggie’s sword slipped from his back, Burchard shifted away from Reggie and Ossa, bringing his sword up. A black blur hurtled toward them and launched itself at Ossa. Out of the corner of his eye, Burchard could see Sir Peter, Sir Daniel, and Ruschmann coming into the garden. His relief was short-lived as knights with darkened armor and tattoos on their faces came running through the doors too.
One of the dark knights made a beeline for Burchard. He had no choice but to take his attention from Fang and Ossa to defend himself. The clang of swords filled the garden. Occasionally, there was a strange swirl of shadows. Burchard swiped at his forehead with his left hand as sweat threatened to trickle into his eyes. Back at their tents, what felt like days ago, but he knew was probably only hours, a slice to the armpit had done the trick, so that was what he was trying to do with his current opponents. Unfortunately, these knights seemed more skilled than the others had been. He wasn’t sure if it was because Ossa was here and somehow controlling them or if they were just a different kind. Either way, Burchard wasn’t sure they were going to make it out of Camp Tooth alive.
Spin, strike, block, strike, parry, over and over. Finally, his adversary gave him the opening he needed. Burchard took the risk, swapping his sword to his left and driving it upward into the unprotected armpit. Black blood sprayed as the sword punched all the way through into the knight’s chest. Burchard yanked on his sword, but it would not come out. He wrapped both hands and twisted, and finally it released, dripping black blood—or what he thought was blood.
He wasn’t sure where Fang and Ossa were, but his attention was drawn to Ruschmann near the center of the garden, facing none other than his brother Reggie. Burchard took a few steps toward Ruschmann when another dark knight charged at him. Sighing in frustration, Burchard viciously chopped at the dark knight, a burst of energy bubbling within him. Just as he drove his sword into the knight’s armpit, his eyes met with Reggie’s. His brother gave him a malicious grin as he locked swords with Ruschmann, lifted his foot booted in plate armor, and slammed it into Ruschmann’s unprotected ankle.
Ruschmann’s inhuman scream of pain rang throughout the garden before he collapsed on the ground. Without thinking, Burchard let go of his sword and sprinted toward his brother as Reggie raised his sword to take the killing blow. Burchard barreled into Reggie’s stomach, and they fell to the ground in a thrashing heap. Burchard punched with everything he had, fervently hoping one of the knight masters would help Ruschmann before another enemy killed him.
One moment Reggie was grappling with Burchard, the next his body went limp. Burchard let his fist drop and peered at his brother in concern. “Reggie?” he said hesitantly, his body tense, ready to defend himself if his brother was faking it.
“Burchard?” Reggie’s answer was muffled as his eyes slowly opened.
“Do you still want to kill me?” Burchard asked.
Reggie gave him a quizzical look. “That depends on how long it takes you to get off me. What did you do? Eat a horse?”
Burchard scooted off his brother and offered a hand. Reggie took it and stood up, peering around the garden, still looking rather confused.
“How much do you remember?” Burchard asked.
Sir Peter walked over to them at that moment. Confusion lacing his voice, Reggie asked, “What do you mean?”
Burchard glanced between his brother and knight master. “I think Ossa—the dark knight Ruschmann and I met the first time we came here—had Reggie under some spell or something. We may not like each other very much, but we both fight for Etria, and that will never change.”
Reggie let out a breath. “I remember arriving at Camp Tooth and sending you to make camp on the edge of the trees. Then, I did the inspection. After that…it gets hazy. I think I gave orders when the knights in the dark armor appeared. The next thing I remember is you punching me.”
“This is all rather strange,” Sir Peter said. “But now is not the time or the place to figure out what Ossa’s purpose was to control Reggie. It would be in our best interest to round up any survivors from the squad and get on our way to Alderth Castle.”
Burchard nodded in agreement. “What about Ruschmann? I don’t think he can walk.”
“You can carry him,” suggested Reggie.
“You could help,” retorted Burchard.
“No thanks,” Reggie replied and walked away.
Growling to himself, Burchard went over to Ruschmann. I should have known Reggie would go back to being his normal useless self as soon as possible.
“I can help you,” offered Sir Peter.
Burchard shook his head. “No, I can carry Ruschmann. Reggie only said it because he doesn’t believe I can do it.”
Sir Peter gave Burchard a concerned look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you carry him,” he said carefully. “Not that you can’t, but you are already injured.”
Burchard turned away from Sir Peter, not wanting to reply. He’s probably right. Burchard helped Ruschmann stand up, and then, standing in front of his friend, he shifted his weight onto his right leg, placing it between Ruschmann’s legs. Then, grabbing Ruschmann’s right hand, he draped it over his shoulder. Squatting, Burchard slid his head under Ruschmann’s armpit and positioned his friend’s body over his shoulders, then slowly stood.
Ruschmann had stayed silent through most of it, Burchard glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “You look a little queasy.”
Ruschmann gave him a half-smile. “I’ll try to not puke on you.”
Burchard took a few steps, then felt something on his leg. He glanced down and saw Fang. Her fur had black blood in it, but she seemed unharmed. “Come on, let’s go.”
15
Grunting with the effort of carrying Ruschmann, Burchard was happy to see the horses standing within the walls of Camp Tooth, not outside the gates. Despite their best efforts, Sir Peter and Sir Daniel had not found any surviving members of the squad. Reggie couldn’t remember what Ossa had done with them. Burchard knew it bothered Sir Peter to not know what had become of the Etrians, but no one wanted to linger at Camp Tooth any longer. Not when Ossa could return at any moment.
Sir Daniel was still in the lead. He snagged the reins for Ruschmann’s horse and brought it over to Burchard. “Do you think you can ride?”
“Anything would be better than having Burchard pinching my balls,” Ruschmann grumbled.
Burchard turned beet red. He had been trying not to pinch anything on his friend, but carrying him over his shoulders was the only way he could manage a load that weighed more than he did. He relaxed his grip on Ruschmann and slowly squatted. Ruschmann groaned and took his time dragging his body upright, still leaning heavily on Burchard.
“How are you going to get on your horse?” Burchard asked.
“You could boost me from my right knee instead of my foot. I think that would work. I can still use my left foot to push off,” Ruschmann replied.
