26 - Attack

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Francis yelled in vain for the guards as these assassins continued to pull him into the woods. His heart beat was so fast that it threatened to burst out of his chest. He was such a fool! Why didn't he take his sword after leaving his wife to go and retrieve their food? She was so exhausted from their first round of lovemaking in many months to go with him, so why did he think leaving his blade with her was a good idea?

The King of France grunted as he was thrown into a thick stemmed tree. He pulled back from it, feeling blood start to kiss his lips and chin. He hissed, turning around in preparation for an attack. One did indeed come, but it wasn't towards him.

He saw his wife appear from the trees, his blade in her hands. Golden eyes darkened into a deep raven as she saw the scene of her unprotected husband be the target of several assassins. She glared, sheathing the blade from the scabbard and throwing the useless bit of vain decoration. She threw her hair back behind her shoulders and Francis could do little but watched as the woman took on all of the attackers by herself.

Why was he worried? He married the famous warrior Queen of Scotland, after all. But there was no way around the fact that Mary was one woman, whilst there were nine assassins.

She kicked the legs of one man from under him, starting to dance with another, before his blood decorated the blade. Whilst fencing with another, Mary reached backwards and slit the throat of the first attacker with the riptide. She yelled out in fury, unable to believe the audacity of men who would dare attack the thing she loved the most.

As Mary hit the blade out of the hand of one man -then promptly slit his throat- her husband was transported back to the time when they were children and they had been attacked by the English on a rare walk with the then King and Queen of France. The Queen of Scotland had easily outmatched the English assassins, only attaining one serious injury. They had thrown her into trees in hopes of stunning the young Queen, but the young girl simply scampered up the trees like a squirrel and branded a bow out of thin air, starting to pick off the English one by one.

He was brought back to life as Mary had been grabbed from behind. She yelled out in fury, kicking away the man in front of her, before wrapping an arm around the neck of the man behind her. She jumped up, connecting her ankles around the second man's neck, twisting deeply, making them all roll over. The men rolled so they were on their knees. Mary took one of their heads, shoving the blade into the chest of another.

The King counted the bodies as he was restrained by one, coming up to seven. His wife and Queen furiously fought with the second to last one standing, finally overcoming the odds as she kicked the sword out of his hand and tore into the man's throat, leaving but one left.

The Englishman threw away the King of France, seemingly forgetting he could use him as ransom for his life, running down the hill to meet the blood soaked warrior Queen. They fought like animals, the last one seeming to get the better of the Queen as he knocked the blade out of her hand, but Mary was a wrestler, she could scrap like no other man in the world could. She had him dazed enough to grip a severed wrist that still held onto a bloody dagger and stabbed it through the side of her assassins neck, grappling his sword off of his hands to slit the man's throat. He fell.

Mary panted for air, gasping aloud as her husband barelled down the hill to meet her. She wrapped an exhausted arm around him.

He pulled back, frantically looking around her body. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did they get you?" he asked quickly.

"No, no. I'm fine." she affirmed. "Did they hurt you?" she asked, running a hand down his bloody nose, having the strange ability to be tender after so much violence. He shook his head.

"It doesn't hurt, come on." he stated, picking up his sword and scabbard. "Let's go to the lake, wash all this blood off, and we can go to Paris like nothing ever happened here. Okay?"

"Alright."


~~


Hope this makes up for the wierdness of the last chapter! Hope you enjoyed your first little taste of my little Frary period story 'Loup de Guerre'!!

Tu Es Ma LumièreWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu