Page 4 of Immortal Sentry

The constant beat of war drums clashed with warning bells from the temple dome. Smoke carried on the breeze. The bastards must be burning the town. They’d spare the woods, being too valuable for timber and game to destroy.

They would consider the rest as expendable.

“Get below,” Kerric barked to his men over the cacophony of drums, bells, angry shouts, and the clash of swords. “Wemust convince the king to leave. We cannot hold the line much longer.”

They’d been sent here too late to give a warning and were doing no good against the enemy.

One by one, his men descended into the castle. Kerric gave a final desperate look at the horizon before lowering his helm and following. Help would not be coming. The best they could do was save King Lothan and his family.

Kerric charged to the royal wing of the castle. His men stood by while Kerric approached the door to the king’s chambers, nodding to the posted guard. Kerric raised his hand to knock.

“Hold!” Commander Crau rushed down the corridor, dressed in ceremonial armor rather than for battle. Shouldn’t he be dressed to fight?

All of Kerric’s guards snapped to attention.

Kerric stopped with his knuckles mere inches from the wooden door. “Sir.” He clapped his arm across his chest in salute. “The king and his family must leave. We’ve no time to spare. The enemy is upon us.”

Crau bobbed his pointed chin. “I have ensured their safety. You and your men need to guard the castle entrance, giving His Majesty more time to escape.”

What a relief! King Lothan finally listened to reason! Kerric saluted again, giving a slight bow. “Yes, Commander.”

Crau opened the door to the king’s chambers and disappeared inside without bothering to knock. The king truly must be gone, then.

Kerric turned on his heels. “You heard the commander. We are to guard the castle entrance.” The enemy would breach the outer gates at any moment. Commander Crau had just sentenced them all to death.

Dying in the defense of the king and country. Kerric could think of no finer ending.

“Bu… but sir!” one guard stammered. “There’s no way to defeat the enemy’s superior force. We’ll lose our lives for nothing.”

“Not for nothing.” Kerric bared his teeth. “For our king. For Hisar!”

“For our king!” the remaining guards swore in unison. “For Hisar!”

Kerric stared down at the doubting guard. Now was not the time for a soldier to lose heart. “Will you do your duty?”

The man glanced wildly around, finding no allies. “I… If I must.”

So be it. Kerric let out a sigh, nodded to his second-in-command, turned, and led his men down the massive stone stairs, their number soon to be shorter by one. A man not dedicated to the greater good, who saw self instead of his brothers, endangered them all and had no place among the elite king’s guard.

No need to ask. Malcolm would carry out his duty swiftly and painlessly, eliminating a threat from within. Malcolm’s steady tenor echoed in Kerric’s ears: “For dereliction of duty.…”

Kerric led the way out the main castle entrance, eleven men on one side, twelve on the other. Malcolm returned and took his rightful place, lips squeezed into a tight white line. He and Kerric had both socialized with the fallen soldier, drank with him, and laughed with him. But an unwilling guard put himself in danger and his brothers in arms.

While their chances were slim, if there was a way for them to come out alive, Kerric would surely try. He took the dead guard's place among the ranks. They had little hope of victory. If the enemy breached the castle walls, the best they could do was buy time.

The zing of metal leaving leather sounded in unison as the king’s guard drew their swords. The fighting grew closer. Already, he spotted enemy soldiers in the courtyard.

Kerric shouldn’t be here. He should be racing toward the enemy. He had friends out there. If he had to die today, he’d take as many enemies with him as possible into the afterlife, where Ibrus, God of Warriors and Storms, would judge them for the goodness in their hearts and how well they performed their duties.

Why had Crau sent him to the rampartsafterthe enemy had been spotted?

As though hearing Kerric’s plea, Ibrus answered, lighting the sky with his blazing spear and bellowing out an earth-shaking roll of thunder.

It was only a matter of time. Kerric would definitely die this day, laying down his life for his king, a hero’s death—the death he’d agreed to when taking his vows to king and country. Thunder crashed in the distance again as fat drops of rain patted against Kerric’s helmet.

Clanging and chanting grew closer. Kerric spotted more soldiers through a haze of rain, inching closer and closer. Blood and dirt covered their chainmail.

“Stand aside!” came a command, carrying extra force. The enemy soldiers parted, allowing a lone man to step through, dressed more for a parade than a battle. The sword at his side had likely never tasted blood. This man was no fighter.

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