Free Behind The Wooden Door by Emily Godwin Page B

locked on the dead men. I could see the soldiers blurring past me as if in slow motion, but I didn’t move.
    Long fingers wrapped around my arm and pulled me along with them. Grey-blue eyes met mine, and I ran after the soldiers with the archer. I held back the tears that fought to escape down my cheeks. This was war and there was no time for tears. I had to be strong like Tristan and be ready to fight to the death because none of us knew how many men were awaiting us within the depths of the castle.
    I didn’t know what I’d do when the soldiers in blue caught up to us, but I hoped the sword in my hand would not fail me as it did the soldier who used to wield it.
    I heard the sounds of agony ahead before I could see the carnage. Barden gave me a fleeting look and a nod before he pulled his sword from its sheath and ran through the arched door ahead.
    This was it. I had to be brave and defend not only my kingdom, but the men who had accepted me, even if their acceptance was only because of Tristan. I had no choice. I refused to run from this, and I refused to stay in the hall while the men fought.
    The sword grew heavier as I moved toward the door Barden had just disappeared behind. With my left hand, I pushed the door open.
    The smell of blood flooded my nostrils as soon as the wood swung away from me. And I faltered.
    I could see the top of Cormac’s head through the swarm of fighting men. He was surrounded by soldiers, but he didn’t seem to notice how many there were. He took two men down instantly with one hit of his sword and made quick work of the others in mere seconds.
    Men from both sides lie dead on the hard stone flooring. Blood seeped from gashes deep within their skin. Stampeding hooves and horse whinnies sounded from somewhere in the castle. Everything was chaos.
    A blue flash ran toward me. The soldier wasn’t very large, but the sword in his hand made up for the lack of intimidation in his looks. He was much older than any of the men in Tristan’s army, but Norric had always had a strong army. An undefeated army.
    Wide eyed and terrified, I lifted the sword with both hands and prepared to fight back, but I didn’t have to.
    An arrowhead jutted through the man’s forehead as he fell roughly to the floor. I said a quiet thanks to Barden.
    But Barden’s arrows wouldn’t last forever, and I’d have to defend myself.
    With a breath that I prayed would not be my last, I lifted the sword and ran into the heart of the battle. One of Cormac’s men had fallen, but he still tried to fight. I knew he would not last long whilst on the ground, so I did the only thing I could.
    My sword sunk deep into the blue shirt of one of Norric’s soldiers. I could feel the skin being severed by the blade in my hand. My hands shook as I heard the man scream out and crumple to the floor. I ripped my sword out of the man’s back. The blade felt heavier than before as if the blood of my enemy had seeped into its metal body and grown stronger.
    Tristan’s soldier nodded his thanks as he jumped to his feet and rejoined in the bloodshed.
    “Princess! Behind you!”  Barden’s voice echoed in my ears as if his voice were the only noise in the world.
    I turned instantly and blocked the blade of another man’s sword from amputating my arm. The metal vibrated in my hands as I continued to block the man’s blows. My palms grew sore with every hit my sword took.
    He lifted his sword to strike again, but I did not give him the chance. I rammed my sword as hard as I could into the man’s stomach. His sword fell to the ground only seconds before his body followed suit.
    I looked back to Barden, but he had fallen. The sword fell from my hand as I stared at his limp body lying motionless. His ocean blue eyes looked straight ahead at absolutely nothing.
    The war became more and more real with every second that passed.
    The horses grew louder. 
    From the corner of my eye, I could see another soldier coming toward me, and there