CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING
THIS NOVEL CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:
~ BLOOD AND VIOLENCE
CLANG!
Gaalin paused, the decorative sword he had been holding in his hands was now split into two pieces. The hilt in his hands, and the blade embedded into the wooden floor in front of Eskil's waist. Shakily, he turned towards the stairwell where Libelle was standing in a silk, floor length robe.
A bow in her hands, her icy eyes on fire with anger. She descended the last few steps and crossed the room barefoot until she stood before him. Glancing down at Eskil, she felt an unfamiliar pain stab at her heart; she didn't want to see his blood, not now, not ever. Gaalin began stammer out an excuse, his tongue twisting over the words.
She didn't want to hear any of it. Using the end of the bow, Libelle swung hard and fast and struck Gaalin across his face with the weapon. She looked at him threateningly, her stoic expression gone, replaced with pent-up rage that was quickly being directed at no one else but him.
"M-my lord. My lady, I-I," Gaalin began to stammer out, holding his cut cheek.
Libelle snapped at him, her lip curling over her teeth. "Silence! I do not want to hear a single word from you."
She knelt down by Eskil's side, ripping the daggers from his flesh and tossing them at Gaalin's feet. Eskil looked exhausted, the effects of the spell and the subsiding electric pain having drained all his energy. She helped him to sit up, then helped him back to the chair he had originally been resting in. He offered her a sarcastic smile as he rested his head against the chair's back.
Libelle spun on her heel and cornered her retainer. "What were you thinking?"
Gaalin was taken aback, he did not expect such rage from her.
"I only intended to help. If he is truly Eskil, I thought it only best for him to be dead."
The answer did not sit well with her. "Did I ask you to take his life?"
"No, but if he's dead, he will no longer be a burden to you, my lord."
To his surprise again, Libelle struck the opposite side of his face with the bow. "That is not for you to decide. Eskil is my responsibility. Do you understand that?"
Gaalin nodded slowly.
"He will not harm anyone, and he is not to be harmed. That means you do not touch him without my permission. Understood?"
Gaalin nodded again, despite his desire to argue with her. Why should the death bringer be protected? He had slain so many mortal men and women, and he had prevented their souls from ever reaching Valhalla. He was a vile creature, worse than the most evil of men in the land. Why should such a being be offered sanctuary?
Ignoring the many potential remarks he could use in an argument, and disregarding his frustration, he backed away from Libelle. She lifted Eskil's less injured arm over her shoulder and aided him in returning to his feet, guiding him towards the stairs.
"My, my lady. You can't be intending to allow him onto that floor. What if he were to try something?"
She paused for a moment and then glared back at him. "Return to your quarters, Gaalin, and do not disturb me for the rest of the night. I have to repair what you have done."
She started up the stairs again.
"My lady, what if he were to try to harm you?" Gaalin called with panic in his voice.
This time the threat in her eyes was empty of compassion, and the power emitting from her as she spoke was more dragon-like than any normal mortal could possess. "I guarantee you, he won't. But if you speak to me one more time this evening, it will be you who has to fear my wrath, and it will be you who will be left bleeding on my floor."
Gaalin swallowed hard, watching as Libelle escorted Eskil up the flight of stairs where they disappeared down the dark hallway. He felt cold, frozen with pure terror that was inflicted for the first time by the dragon slayer.
She did not speak to him as his friend or as his lord; she spoke to him purely as the slayer, a very hostile and formidable one at that.