The good news was, Etraon knew, that they weren’t actually backed into a physical corner. The prospect of being cornered was a terrifying one, as the limitation of space and the stress of the situation would have nullified their fighting ability by at least half. They would have been unable to properly maneuver, more than likely getting into each other’s way, and would have to rely on a strong defense as a means to stay alive until they had successfully outwitted their enemy.

And yet, despite what should have been an advantage, full freedom and the ability to use every technique they had, Harrison was the worst person to corner. He had the necessary defense to remain dangerous, even when his fighting area was limited, and quite frankly, his years of experience and his sheer physical advantage in size over the three younger men in the room made him a terrible adversary.

Aurelius charged, bravely, Etraon thought, straight at Harrison without hesitation, and swung his labrys overhead. With a speed that sent a jolt of terror through Etraon, Harrison sidestepped the blow with his arms raised before him in a pose similar to when one dove into the water from a high place. Harrison spun and with his back facing them, Lance took the initiative to strike at a potential opening in the joints of the master shieldguard’s armor with his ranseur. Harrison’s arms swung back in one fluid movement, grasping Aurelius’s wrists, pulling man and labrys round. Lance halted his charge and slid. Seeing that his friend could potentially end up in a life-threatening fall that might place him at Harrison’s mercy, Etraon rushed forward and catching Lance, pulled him back up to his feet before his feet could slip out from under him.

For a moment, it seemed that Harrison intended to pull and throw Aurelius forward to crash into them, weapon and all. Harrison surprised them all by pulling Aurelius back the other way, and Etraon winced at the audible crack as his cousin flew backward with the full force of Harrison’s swing sending him into the air and into a nearby chair. Aurelius cried out in pain and Etraon knew that the fall had broken something. In one hand, Harrison now held Aurelius’s labrys, not having even drawn his own axe from wear it was buckled to his back. Etraon felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Despite how far they had come, Harrison was barely even needing to take them seriously. It was all too possible that they would die here. And yet, there had been that brief pause when Harrison had released Aurelius from his grip. Seeing the trajectory of his swing, Etraon knew that Harrison could have released Aurelius a few seconds later and probably sent him into the table or worse, the wall, resulting in in heavier injuries, probably a concussion at the very least, or even death. But as he and Lance faced off against Harrison, now armed with Aurelius’s labrys, he couldn’t tell if the decision to release Aurelius sooner had been a conscious one or something that had simply happened out of chance because Harrison wasn’t intending to fight them seriously so long as the job got done.

Lance charged once more, his ranseur thrusting forward towards the neck area. Harrison brought up the labrys and swung aside the blade with little effort. Again, Lance came forward and this time, Harrison parried the blade from above. Etraon saw Lance smile as he let the heavier weight of the labrys bring his blade down and Lance stepped forward heavily bringing the point of his weapon closer to a partially exposed area of Harrison’s thigh. The shieldguard grunted, perhaps in acknowledgement of the momentary weakness before simply grabbing the wood just past the blade with a firm hand. Lance was stopped mid-stride by the immovable mass before him and before either of them could blink, Harrison shoved the butt of the ranseur into the pit of Lance’s gut area.

Noting that his friend was in pain, but alive as he doubled over, Etraon didn’t waste any time in continuing the attack. He had chosen to stand back with his partners’ initial charge as none of them had fought each other recently, meaning that they were relatively unfamiliar with how each one currently fought now. Harrison looked up and for a moment, Etraon could see that the shieldguard genuinely regretted what he had to do and that had things been different, he would’ve preferred to do anything but fight. There was, however, a grim set of the jaw that told Etraon that when Harrison attacked him, no mercy would be shown and if he didn’t defend himself properly and view the master shieldguard as a real enemy, there would be no chance of survival.

“Not on my watch,” Lance growled, struggling painfully to rise. He grasped his fallen weapon, and using the butt of it to help him stand, pushed himself forward until he was directly in front of Etraon.

“Really, Lance, must you be the hero every time?” Aurelius said quietly, his voice tight from the pain of his own injuries as he hobbled over.

“Stay out of this, Aurelius, you’re unarmed,” Lance said pointedly.

“I don’t think so,” came the stubborn reply.

“No, you’ll both move,” Etraon barked sharply. Lance and Aurelius jumped slightly and turned to look at him, startled. The outburst was so unexpected that Harrison had even lowered his weapon to watch the exchange. He was in no danger from doing so, after all. “You’re both idiots,” Etraon said then. “I’m not letting you blindly die for me. If Harrison wants to fight me properly in an honorable duel, I’ll give it to him. His years of service require at least that much.”

“But-,” Aurelius attempted to cut in, but Etraon shook his head.

“His mission only requires that I’m to be killed. If there’s a chance he might let the two of you go…” Etraon paused then, looking at Harrison for a sign of acknowledgement, “I’ll give him my best fight. If I lose, I’ll lose honorably, at least.”

“My orders did not involve Prince Aurelius, nor Derek’s son,” Harrison told him. “I would prefer to keep the number I have to kill today to a minimum.” With those words, he tossed aside Aurelius’s labrys and drew his own great battleax from behind him. “Stand down, boys.”

“Never!” Lance shot back defiantly.

“Lance!” Etraon drew himself up, startling himself with the sudden authority that had asserted itself into his voice.

Aurelius pulled Lance back with a firm grasp on the shoulder, shaking his head at the protesting attempts to nudge away his hand.

Harrison raised his weapon and Etraon sidestepped it, only to fall backwards in an attempt to dodge as the blade of the great battleax came whistling towards his face. The speed with which the master shieldguard wielded his weapon was astounding, and Etraon felt a terrible respect in his gut for Harrison’s lethal skillset. A light seemed to grow in Harrison’s eyes as he continued to attack while Etraon dodged, and Etraon suddenly felt a surge of pride amidst his terror. The shieldguard was clearly impressed with the way Etraon was avoiding his swings, though the indifferent, battle-hardened expression on his face spoke volumes of how he foresaw the fight’s conclusion.

By this time, Harrison had moved away from the doorway and Aurelius and Lance had retreated to one side. Etraon was now limited by a table to one side and a bookshelf to the other, and a single swing from Harrison’s ax sent volumes flying as torn sheets were separated from their spines by the weapon’s sharp edge. Someone ran towards them and Etraon caught a faint glimpse of blond hair disappearing behind the massive shieldguard before him.

“Aurelius!” he shouted. “Get away from him!”

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sight of Harrison crumpling senseless to the ground with a crash that sent vibrations through the floor from his weight. All was silent for a moment, save Etraon’s hard breathing and the steady measured breaths of the man before him. Etraon glanced to the right to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Lance and Aurelius were coming towards him from the right side of the room. Etraon was speechless as he turned his attention back to his bandmate.

“Hullo, Etraon,” Windsor greeted him casually, ignoring the fact that he had just successfully knocked out his own father. “You were in a bit of a spot, weren’t you?”

“Where have you been?” Etraon demanded, his voice strangled. “We’ve been looking for you, ever since-.”

“Good decision on your part to not attack him all at once. Father would’ve mowed you down without a second thought if you’d done that. Most people make that mistake when facing off against a shieldguard.”

“I’ve fought one before,” Aurelius told him. “We knew what we were doing.”

“As I said, good job. You know,” Windsor smiled, leaning down and Etraon heard a clink and looked down, seeing a sword belted at Windsor’s waist that had collided with one of the metal buckles of his shin guards. “I’ve told Father repeatedly that he needs to take care of that one particular weakness in his armor, but he’s stubborn to a fault. Fathers, right?”

Windsor stepped forward and almost immediately, Aurelius and Lance moved to stand protectively in front of Etraon now. Astonished at the action, Etraon could only stare at his best friend and his cousin in amazement. “What is the meaning of this?” Neither one moved.

“We know nothing of his loyalties, Etraon,” Aurelius said, staring pointedly at Windsor before inclining Harrison with a jerk of his chin. “That was his father. How do we know Windsor hasn’t joined Uncle?”

“You can’t be serious!” Etraon told him, shocked at his cousin’s behavior. “Lance was there at the house with me! We saw him get out after Damon-.” Etraon caught himself, still not quite having come to terms that their bandmate was dead. “Look, Windsor has nothing to do with this!”

“You’re not thinking, Etraon,” Aurelius said then, and Etraon bristled at the statement. “What I’d like to know is what and how is it that Harrison managed to ambush us only to have our dear bandmate here arrive in the nick of time?”

Etraon opened his mouth to defend his bandmate, but closed it again. What his cousin had said, disturbing as it was to consider, had a point. Aside from the fact that Auberon had threatened Windsor with Damon’s well-being, they really had no definite proof that their bandmate was on their side. Harrison had clearly turned, albeit with Windsor’s life on the line, but it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to think that Windsor might have possibly shifted his loyalties. However, by this point, he knew better than to assume anything about the current situation.

“Windsor?” he tried. “What’s really happening here?” He hesitated to add the question of whether Windsor’s presence in the room was to ensure that someone they would have trouble killing would be around to guarantee a proper assassination on Harrison’s part, but casting doubt on the problem at hand was the one thing Etraon didn’t want to do.

“Well, I’m partially here on orders, and partially here of my own selfishness,” Windsor admitted apologetically.

“You’ve sided with my uncle?” Etraon asked him, disappointed. “Even after he killed Damon?”

“That’s unfair, Etraon. Since you know so much, you would take care to remember that, technically, Aeder did it.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Windsor. Don’t do that.”

“Besides, telling us that one of Prince Auberon’s henchmen killed another henchman doesn’t do you any favors,” Lance warned.

“You know,” Windsor chuckled darkly, “Damon wasn’t even the one responsible for that mess with Finley. He ran because he knew who did it and that they’d try to have him killed because he was close enough to Finley to easily have been able to put the pieces together.”

“He was innocent?” Etraon and Aurelius demanded at the same time. Guilt dried out Etraon’s mouth as he thought through everything that he had actually thought Damon capable of since the day he disappeared. The fact that their poor bandmate was, in fact, the victim of yet another scheme was one that he had considered, but now that it was confirmed, Etraon felt terrible for having ever suspected him.

“Sick, isn’t it? Your uncle thought that one up on his own, by the way. Damon told me this himself while Auberon was exercising his goodwill by letting me visit with a friend before he attempted to make me switch loyalties.”

“And did you?” Etraon asked him, letting the question hang in the air for a moment. Windsor stared at the ground and it was silent for a moment. Finally, Windsor sighed with a sad tone of finality.

“It’s like this, Etraon. I was given orders to make sure that you would be stuck here long enough for Father to finish the job. Or…if he somehow didn’t…”

He paused, taking a breath, and Etraon felt a twinge of pity for his bandmate. Had his own life not been the one on the line, he very well might have even sympathized with Windsor’s plight .But that wasn’t the case here, so Etraon held tighter to his sword. He knew more than anyone just how quickly Windsor could change from being nonchalant to dangerously unpredictable in a fight. He had shown as much during their practices. Being inattentive to the slightest sign might result in death.

“So it’s come to this, then?”

“Not quite,” Windsor smiled then, the sincerity and lack of guile in his expression suddenly made Etraon question every assumption he had just made about the situation. As if to prove that he intended no tricks, Windsor unbuckled his sword and laid it on the ground, kicking it towards Etraon.  “You see, your uncle caught me after I escaped and made me swear my loyalty or he’d go back to our hometown and order Varg and his targoliths to raze the place to the ground. But you know me, my vow of loyalty wasn’t entirely binding.”

-----

Author's Note:

Elfarine