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Knightly Betrayal

By XP Author

Anna stepped into the bedchambers of her mentor. While it was not for the first time, it was the first time she had done so without an official reason to do it. She was not there to retrieve him for some meeting with the king or other soldiers, not to fill him in on information, or to get orders. She was there for a far more personal reason. One that made her heart flutter, a feeling she was not accustomed to. While one to be stoic to a fault, the tiger tended to hide, or even deny her more personal feelings.

The stag himself stepped in after her, patting her shoulder gently. She tensed up, and resisted the reflex to salute. He laughed softly, giving her a warm smile. "Relax, Anna. There are no ranks here tonight." He moved past her, almost symbolically taking the cape off of his shoulders that marked him as a knight captain. Setting it onto a hook, he turned to face her. "You can come in farther than the doorway, too."

A small smile spread on her lips. "Sorry, Si-" She caught herself and let out a short laugh. "Telios." She corrected herself. Stepping farther into the room, she looked around it a little. While it was not a large room, it was devoid of much decoration. The bed, the writing desk and its chair were the fanciest things in it, cushioned for comfort, but still with a simple elegance. The captain was not one for showing off, though neither was she. She respected that about him. Admired it. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to being so..."

"Forward?" He nodded slowly. "I understand. But tonight is a night for you." He stepped over to her, reaching out to brush his hand against her cheek. His touch was soft and loving against her. "I have wanted to say this to you for a long time. You are an incredibly beautiful woman."

She gave him a soft smile, leaning her cheek into his touch. "Thank you." She was not sure just how long she had feeling for the man. Almost as long as she had known him. He was the one who found her all those years ago when she washed ashore with no memories. He had trained her personally, been by her side through so many battles, and was the one to name her to lead the army to crush an uprising the previous year. It was in that battle she truly made a name for herself, now known through the kingdom for having put down the rebellion and even killing the leader herself in single combat. It was all thanks to him. She owed him so much, but she had thought he held her in the same regard as one would a daughter or sister.

So it was with some shock when he came to her earlier that day to confess his own feelings for her. He confided in her that he was growing dissatisfied with his service under the queen, and was seeking to leave from his position soon. So with the barrier of mentor and pupil was no longer there to stop him, he asked if she would join him, leave the queen's service and come with him. She was not ready to leave her role as knight, but he understood. It was then that he kissed her for the first time. It was a thrill like no other.

Now she was standing in his bedchambers, his mouth moving closer to hers once more. She returned the kiss this time, pressing her lips to his. His scent was powerful and familiar. A deep purr started to rumble in her chest. His hands slid around her, pulling her closer. She did not resist, melting against him. She also did not resist as his hands slid lower to tease at the seam of her jerkin. With deft hands, he easily opened the ties holding it closed, exposing the tunic below. This was soon opened, as well, hanging limp upon her muscular frame.

Pulling back from the kiss, he slowly started to pull the clothing off, the jerkin sliding away easily enough, then the tunic, pulled up and over her head to be cast aside. She stood before him in just her trousers, her well toned torso on full display for him. She sported several small scars across her body that her white fur did little to hide, mostly along her arms. Even the pale tiger markings did little to mask the marks of a warrior. Her breasts also lay bare to him, hefty but not overly so, perky and bouncing a little with every breath.

Telios took a breath as his eyes drank in her form. "I may have misspoken earlier. You are not just an incredibly beautiful woman. You may be the most beautiful."

She giggled, a sound she did not make often. "You flatter me." She reached out to touch the seam of his clothing. "You also have me at a disadvantage." He smiled and nodded, letting her help him out of his clothing this time. Other than a slight struggle getting his tunic over the stag's large antlers, there was not much fuss before he was as topless as her. Even more well built than she was, he sported as many scars as she, some from the same battles. He gently trailed a finger down the white fur of his chest, then over to where the brown along his back was separated by a thick black line. "A handsome man like no other."

He smirked. "Now who's flattering whom?" He placed his hands on her sides, gently guiding her to the bed. It was not large, but it would fit the both of them, if only just. Not particularly soft, but covered in fine linens. With her sitting at the edge, he gently pushed her onto her back, only for his hands to trail to her waist. She let him work at her trousers, which quickly slid down her toned legs, revealing more white fur and more scars. The undergarments were the next to go. She gave him a nod, and he slid them down, fully exposing herself to him. He licked his lips, a blush on his cheeks as he got the full view. "My gods, woman. I am the luckiest man in the kingdom tonight."

She giggled again, tilting her head a little. "Not yet you are not." She nodded at his trousers. "Once you remove those, then perhaps I can make it so." He smirked at her sudden teasing playfulness, and was not one to deny a suggestion like that. As quickly as he had removed his top, his bottoms were off and nudged aside with a hoof. He stood before her, letting her see him in all his glory. Not just the well toned body, but the nine inches, standing proud and hard. "Oh... perhaps I'm the lucky one tonight."

He chuckled, moving to crawl atop her and stare down at her, his nose almost touching hers. The tip of his cock slid gently against her lips, feeling the heat and arousal from them. "I think we both may be sharing our luck." He kissed her gently. "Are you ready, my lady?" She grinned wide, nodding, her legs parting for him. He pushed his hips forward, slowly parting her pussy lips and sliding between them. They both let out a loud moan for each other, him for her heated tunnel squeezing around him, her for his throbbing shaft filling her just right. Inch by inch, he slid himself in, until his hips met hers, his tip kissing deep within.

He started slow, pumping with long, deep strokes. But she was eager for more, her arms coming up to drag him down into a kiss, her hips pushing up to meet his. Soon, he was thrusting faster, hitting harder, making her bounce under him with every entry. Her legs came to wrap around his middle, helping to drag him deeper. Time ceased to be as the two wrapped each other in their passion. Anna did little to hide her pleasure, moaning and gasping for him. He grunted and panted as he continued, his thrusts as deep as he could get them.

It was not long before she was tensing up, clinging around him, both her body and her inner walls. She came for him, squeezing tight while he held deep, letting her ride out the pleasure. Showing his own stamina, he was not done. When she was just coming down, he rolled her over onto her belly, only to start thrusting again, just as hard and seemingly deeper as before. The tigress was once more lost in the pleasure, heightened with her nose pressed into his bed, so full of his scent.

She lost count of how many times she came that night. He knew positions she had never thought of. From her riding atop him, his hands under her thighs to have her bounce on him, to on her side, him beside her, holding her leg up as he thrust deep, to finally on all fours, his arms around her to gently fondle her dangling breasts while his head rested against her neck. It was there that he finally hit his limit. She would not have him pull back, wanting all he had for her, and he was more than happy to give it. With several deep, hard, jerking thrusts, she felt him twitch and spit his seed deep inside of her, filling her with a warmth she craved, enough to send her over the edge one last time.

Finally spent, the two practically collapsed to the bed. Evening had long turned to night outside as their passion had lasted for hours. His arms slid around her to hold her from behind, and she nuzzled back against him, more than happy to remain like this for days. "Thank you, my love."

She let out a tired moan. "Worth the wait." She closed her eyes, still feeling him within her as she started to drift off. It was the happiest she had ever been in her life. And a night he would live to regret for the rest of his.

* * *

Several things came to her attention at once as she started to wake. The first was that it was quite a ways into the morning, the sun already shining through the small window in the room. The second was that she was still on Telios' bed, as bare as she had been as she fell asleep hours before. The third was that the man was not beside her anymore. The last was the amount of noise happening. Blades clashing and people yelling. At first she thought it might just be the soldiers outside running drills, but the shouting was wrong. It wasn't the sound of men practicing, but a different, yet equally familiar sound. People fighting for their lives.

As soon as that thought struck her, her eyes snapped open, her mind instantly alert. She sat bolt up, looking around. "Telios!?" The stag was nowhere to be found in the room. Nor were his clothes from the last night. Even the cape he had hung up was gone. In fact, her own clothes were also missing for some reason. She swung her feet out of the bed, ready to charge down the halls in nothing but a sheet for her own room to get her sword. No sooner were her feet on the floor, when the the door suddenly burst open, nearly kicked off of its hinges by a leather booted foot.

The owner of the boot, a raggedy rat with brown fur, walked in and gave her a big, toothy grin... as much as he could as several were missing. "Well 'ello there, pretty lady. Dinna 'spect to see such a fine lass in the barracks." A quick glance at the man and she noted his cheep, leather armor clashed with the well made sword in his hand. Likely stolen from one of the soldiers outside... or supplied by someone else.

She was at her feet, keenly aware of her nakedness, more for her lack of a weapon than anything else. "Who are you!?" She demanded, extending her claws threateningly.

The rat laughed as he walked further in, only to be followed by another two men, a dog and a cat, both dressed similarly, and both also suspiciously well armed with another sword, and a spear. "Kitty's got claws!" The rat taunted. "Best put those away a'fore you get yerself cut."

The dog with the sword stared at her for a moment, though not at her tits as she would have expected, but her face. "Oy, Broda... I fink da's 'er! Da white cat tha' done in ol' Volan las' year."

Now she knew exactly who these people were. Not some bandit group that got so bold as to attack the castle. They were rebels. Volan was the leader of the biggest group, the one she personally put down herself. "And what if I am? Do you rebels think you can do better than him? At least he had some honour."

The cat hissed at her, jabbing his spear threateningly in her directly. "Oy! We gots plen'y of honour you b-WHOA!" The moment the tip of the spear was within reach, she grabbed it and rotated her whole body to yank the man off of his feet. She slammed him against the window, which shattered as he was sent crashing through. The drop was only a few feet outside to the barracks courtyard, so he would probably be up again soon enough... provided the glass shards didn't slash him too badly.

She spun the spear around in her hand to point it at the two remaining men. The rat growled. "Right, no play'n nice. Gut this cunt." Instead of charging at her like the dog did, he instead leaned back out of the door and shouted down the hall. "OY! I FOUND THE PUSSY! GIT YER SORRY ARSES O'RE 'ERE!"

She grit her teeth, knowing more would show up soon. She would have to deal with these two quickly. Thankfully, the dog was stupid enough to charge at her, she easily avoided the clumsy swing he made with his sword, swiping the spear down to trip his legs. He was sent crashing into the floor, only to scream as she jammed the spear through his back. Instead of pulling it back out, she picked up the sword he had dropped. She was better with a sword, especially in tight confines like this room. It was definitely one from the castle's armory, as she recognized the pattern on the guard.

"Kari!" The rat shouted as he turned in time to see his friend get skewered. "Oh, you are dead, bitch!" He also charged at her, but he seemed to at least know what he was doing. Instead of leaving himself so open, he expected her stab, barely avoiding it and swinging down with his own blade. She cried out as it caught her shoulder, though it was a light cut. She had grown too used to wearing heavy armor that would have deflected the blow. She needed to fight smarter than that right now.

The man swung again, and she parried with her blade, but didn't strike back. Instead, she stepped to the side, leading him a little around the room. Another blow was deflected, and she moved again. When he swung out a third time, she moved quickly. The edge of his blade struck the wall, bouncing off. It left him just open enough for a counter attack, and she took it, moving forward to jam her blade into his gut, the tip exiting out the back. She felt the blood on her hands and chest. The rat gave her a look of shock. No one ever expected to feel steel in their gut. She pulled the sword out, and he collapsed to the floor by the dog. She didn't waste time with finishing blows. Both would be dead soon enough, and she heard more in the halls.

Unfortunately, the hall was her best option. She glanced out the window, seeing a pitched battle happening out there. With no armor, she was too soft of a target. At least in the tight confines of a hallway, she could force them to come at her in smaller numbers. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she dashed out the door. "There she is!" Someone shouted as soon as she was in the hall. She turned to see a small group coming towards her. She grit her teeth as that was the direction she needed to go to get to her own room. And her armor.

Reading the sword in front of her, she let them come to her. First was another dog, this time with a long dagger and a shield. The shield did nothing for him in the hall, and only made it easier for her in such a cramped space. He tried to hold it up, so she just bashed the shield with her body to send him off balance, then stabbed forward through his chest. Stepping over him, she turned to the side to avoid a spear thrust. A quick downward elbow snapped the shaft, followed by an upward slash to open the man from hip to shoulder.

More were coming as word got around where she was. Apparently, she was some kind of prime target. Not surprising. She was sure most of them wanted either revenge for her killing their previous leader, or just bragging rights for taking her down. The people she was killing started to blend together as she got into a flow of combat. She no longer saw species, or even gender. Only weapons. A sword, cut off the arm, slice the neck. Move on. A spear, kick to the gut, stab to the belly. Move on. Dagger, too quick to avoid the slash, take it across the arm to get in close, move past, slash the back. Move on. The dead, dying, or disabled bodies of men and women littered the hall behind her as she inched her way forward.

Either someone outside was very lucky, very skilled, or both. As she sliced the neck of someone with a pair of daggers, an arrow came through the nearby doorway. It caught her in her shoulder, sinking deep into her flesh and nearly making her drop the sword. She cried out in pain, but her instincts made her grip the weapon tight instead of let it go. She continued forward, though the wound slowed her. A blade caught her belly, another slicing her leg, another her arm. None were fatal, but all hurt and bled, her fur stained almost more red than white now.

With an almost feral rage, she still ripped through any that stood before her. Even with her wounds, her ferocity was enough that people started to back up, unwilling to be the next to taste the blood drenched blade in her hand. Some even turned to run as she glared at them, the fury and blood lust in her eyes enough to strike them terrified. She could see the door that led to her room. It was near, only a dozen paces and a few more people to cut down, then she could take sanctuary in there for a few moments, catch her breath, and most importantly, don her armor. Even if it was on sloppily, it would be enough.

Her world was suddenly awash with agony. Every muscle clenched and spasmed and twitched beyond her control while her fur stood up on end. Electricity coursed over her, striking the middle of her back from a caster behind her. She fell to a knee, coughing and tasting burnt copper in her mouth. She hated mages. But they had a fatal weakness. Two, actually. They never wore more than robes, as armor hindered spellcasting. And spells took time to cast, even the most basic would take a second or two. She gripped the sword and turned to see the rabbit, her hood up over her head, a book in her hand. She was muttering something as fire slowly took shape in her hand.

Anna stood and hurled the sword as hard as she could. The rabbit looked up in time to gasp as she saw death coming for her. The sword struck her head and bounced over her, not at the right angle to embed into skull. But it still hit with enough force to break bone, blood suddenly pouring down the woman's face from a gash between her eyes. Eyes which rolled back as her body crumpled to the floor, dead. The fire in her hand died with her, fizzling out to a puff of smoke.

The tiger turned in time to cry out as a spear thrust through her belly. It did not hit center of mass, more off to the left, but it was enough to hurt like hell all the same. She growled like a beast at the wolf that held the thing. The young man's triumphant expression turned to shock, then terror, then utter horror as she grabbed his neck and dug her claws in, ripping it open with a swipe. He fell at her feet, gurgling out his last breath. She snapped the spear, doing her best to ignore the pain, but could not help but scream as she yanked the thing out, nearly falling over right there. The wound was bad, no matter how she looked at it. She had seen people survive worse, but not often, and they rarely had taken so many other hits as she had today.

Still, she moved forward. If she was to fall today, she would do it defeating these rebels and protecting her queen. And she was finally at the door to her room. Even if she could not get her full armor, leathers would work. They might even keep her insides from falling out of the many holes in her before the day was done. And her sword was in there. A long blade with a keen edge, balanced just for her hand. A gift from Telios when she had been knighted. It was the blade that had taken Volan's head. It had never let her down.

She pulled the door open, then froze. A man stood in front of her, right at the doorway, right against her. She stared into his eyes, her own wide. Then she tasted the blood, and felt the pain under her left breast. He stepped back, pulling the dagger out of her chest. She collapsed to her knees, grabbing at the wound. It had not cut into her heart, but it was well aimed all the same. She coughed, blood splattering from her mouth as her lung collapsed. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. She did not want to believe what she was looking at, but there was no denying it. "T-Telios... why?"

The stag let out a sigh, unable to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Anna. I wish you had taken my offer to leave..."

"Nah, she's too loyal! You did a good job putting that in her head, didn't you?" The voice came from behind her. She tried to turn to look, but she could barely move for the pain. She was surprised she hadn't just crumpled entirely to the floor, but something wouldn't let her die like that. Thankfully, the man stepped around her so she could see him. He was a short, stocky wolverine, his eyes a wild mix of green, yellow and brown, like someone dropped flecks of paint into them and forgot to stir. He had a wicked scar across the right side of his head, a line from near his eye back behind his ear. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

She coughed and spat a rather worryingly large gob of blood at his boots. "Should I?" While her voice was raspy and shaky, she was surprised she even had one to spit the words out at him.

He frowned. "Well, you did give me this." He ran a finger against the scar on his head. "Right before you fought my mentor and took his head."

Now she recognized him. Kirkonus. The second in command under Volan. "Oh... thought you were as dead as your master."

Rage flashed on his face for a second, but he controlled himself. "No. But you certainly left me for dead."

She managed to move, shuffling herself to the side a little to lean against the wall. The two men let her do this, not worried that she would be able to do any more harm. She wasn't planning on it, either, she just didn't think she could stay upright any longer. "So... what is it? Revenge for marring your face? Not... not that it could get... much uglier."

Kirkonus shook his head. "No. Satisfying as that is, this is about more than that. And it is about more than you killing Volan. He was like a father too me, but he taught me the value of putting petty things like revenge aside. No, this is about saving this nation from the tyranny of that fat fox bitch sitting on the throne. Killing you is just a... bonus."

She looked at Telios, unable to speak the words, but her eyes said it all. He winced visibly. "Do not give me that look. I tried to get you to leave. I told you it all yesterday. I have grown... dissatisfied with how the queen has used us to instill fear into the people. We are supposed to be protectors, not thugs. Yet she sends her knights out to arrest or kill any who speak even the slightest against her decisions. These are not the actions of the queen I pledged myself to. After King Averos died... she died with him in spirit. Some other woman now sits in her fur." He grit his teeth. "I..."

The wolverine took over from here. "He came to us, not the other way around." He laughed. "Though, I will say, I certainly doubted it when I heard that a knight CAPTAIN of all people had just walked right into one of our camps, completely unarmed and asked to parley. Had to see it for myself. And there he was, head held high, hands higher, armor at his feet like some kind of offering." He chuckled softly. "Was his plan to get us into the castle today. I even told him I'd let you scurry away with him if he could talk you out of your vows, but..." He shrugged. "Well. I guess he didn't."

She coughed, then continued coughing, a raspy, wet sound. Her head was getting light, and she knew she would not last much longer with how much she was bleeding internally at this point. "You... won't win..." her voice was weaker than before, yet she still managed to spit the words at him. "The other... knights..."

"Many of them joined the rebellion." Her eyes just stared at the ground as Telios spoke this. "At least half. Maybe more... including three of the queen's personal guard." She slowly shook her head. "We've already gotten word. Her head no longer sits on her neck. She was dead before the battle even started." That hit her as hard as any of the wounds had. She had fought and killed all this time, and for nothing. There was no one to save. She had completely lost. Lost her queen, lost her love, and very quickly was leaking what was left of her life onto the floor.

She managed to lift an arm to prop it against the wall, leaving a bloody smear as she did. She pushed herself up as much as she could, looking up at the man she had loved, had laid with only hours before hand. She gave him a look not of anger, but a look that challenged him, daring him to defy her. "Then kill me. Finish me! Or will you w-watch me... just bleed out... in front of you?"

Telios looked away, completely turning to not face her. Kirkonus, however, did step in front of her. "He won't. But I will. With this." He held up her own sword in front of her. "The same blade you used to take Volan's head will take yours. Fitting, don't you think?" She swallowed as best as she could, holding down the coughing fit trying desperately to hit her again. She held her head high, her chin up, leaving her neck exposed. "Prideful to the end. I like that." He brought the blade close to her exposed neck, pressing the keen edge against her flesh. "But it will not be a fast death for you."

He slashed the blade across her throat, and she opened her mouth to scream. The pain was immediate, but the scream never came. Blood bubbled up into her mouth, her body tensing up, but the cut, while fatal, was not as deep as it could. A hand gripped her hair to hold her head up as she started to fall to the side. The edge was against her neck again, and she felt the edge dragged much slower this time, parting into her flesh inch by agonizing inch. With the third cut, he was not even half-way through, his gaze locked with hers. However, she was not looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Telios, the stag refusing to meet her gaze in return, staring at the floor instead.

The blade was at her neck again, slowly carving ever deeper as her blood pouring around it, running down her bare chest and pooling on the floor under her. Her vision was gone by the time he was cutting again. Her body was numb to her. All she could feel was pain and shame, and utter betrayal as she kept staring at the man who had trained her, stood by her side for years, and even said he loved her. It consumed her as quickly as the darkness did. By the time the sword carved through her spine, there was nothing left of her anymore. One final cut, and her head was removed completely. Her body slumped to the floor, a few weak splashes of blood leaking out of the jagged stump, but most of it was already on the floor by then.

Kirkonus hefted her head up by her hair as he stood, resting the bloody blade on his shoulder. "There we go." He looked at the stag, mostly to make sure the man didn't have any sudden change of heart and try to stab him in the back. When he saw the man just standing there, his tone grew more serious. "Our deal is done. I am sorry for your loss, but she was the biggest symbol against our revolution. Second only to the queen herself."

Telios just nodded, still staring away from him. "I know." His voice was calm, even, and cold. He let out a short sight. "Go. Present your trophy."

The wolverine nodded, tucking the woman's head under his arm. "Yeah. Her head will be on a spike next to the queen's." He stopped before he walked out. "Oh. As much as me keeping this would probably be another symbol or something..." He just got quiet. He did feel for the man, torn between love and duty to his people. He tossed Anna's sword onto the floor at the stag's hooves. "It's yours now." With that, he walked out. Cheers erupted from outside as he presented the head to those gathered about.

Telios did not move, fists clenched. His eyes were fixed to the sword at his hooves. Even when people came to collect the body, he did not move. He knew what they would do to her. How they would abuse what was left of her. Defile it. They would pass her around like some kind of doll. He did not stop them, nor did he even move. For hours, he stood in the room that had once belonged to a woman he respected more than any others.

Thoughts ran through his head, trying to think of how he could have avoided all of this. He had tried. The attack plan itself may have been his idea, but the timing was all the wolverine's. He asked, demanded, and even begged Kirkonus to delay the attack by a week, by even a few days. But the man was set on it. The revolution had delayed before, and that was when it was found. When Anna had lead the charge to end it, and nearly succeeded. Now, its size was growing too great again. With as many of the knights that had already turncoated, it was only a matter of time before they were found. Every day waited was another day for the queen to find out, and send another army to crush them, to quietly remove the dissenters within her ranks.

Kirkonus pointed out that the fact that he, a knight captain, had so easily found one of their bases by simply following one of the traitor knights to it was proof enough that they could not delay a day longer. He could not deny the logic. He had just wanted that time to convince her. To talk her down, change her mind, convince her to leave, anything other than what happened. Perhaps they could have worked together, side by side to change the system from the inside... but that was an idealist's optimism. He was short on optimism these days, and now... now there was no going back. The queen was dead. Anna was dead. Both their heads on spikes, displayed on the balcony outside the throne room for all the castle town to see.

It was evening before he finally moved, crouching down to pick up the sword that had been his gift to her. He wiped the blade clean and slid it into its scabbard. He attached it to his hip, and turned to walk out. The revelry of the victors continued, but had moved on out of the barracks, leaving it empty and half-destroyed. It did not take him long to find her body. She had been strung up to the arrow pads in the training yard. Her limbs were missing, one arm hanging from a pole nearby, one leg pinned to another arrow target, another arm just laying on the floor. He had no idea where the last leg was. Her body had been hit with a number of arrows, most of them aiming for her belly or breasts. It was also plain to see that she had been used by many of the men. Both holes leaked the remains, as did her exposed throat, and yet more coated her chest amid the blood.

He emotionlessly stepped over to what remained of the tiger. He carefully untied the ropes holding her up and gently set her down onto the ground. One by one, he removed each arrow lodged into her as carefully and gently as he could. He also took a rag to wipe away much of the mess that had been left on her, but it did little to clean the bloodstained fur. He gave up after a time, and just picked her up. Several of the rebels... or whatever they would end up calling themselves... just watched him. No one tried to stop him. A few made snide remarks, but were silenced by others. He ignored them. He was an outsider to them still. Even sharing their goals, he was not of them. Had never lived their hardships, only witnessed it, and even been the caused or at least tool to cause them in the past.

He took her remains to his room and gently laying her down on his bed. He was unsure why he had brought her here, but his movements were as if controlled by another, stiff and unthinking. After removing his armor, and the clothing under it, he sat down beside the mangled remains. Only then did he let the emotion hit him. And it hit him hard. Tears stung at his eyes as he felt himself start to shake. He pulled her close, wrapping arms around her and just clinging to what was left of the woman. Not even a day before, he had been holding her here, making passionate love to her, knowing what her fate would be. Once he had let the sorrow in, the tears came unbidden, and he started to sob and weep for what he had lost this day.

He cared not who heard his despair. Let them know it. They knew what he had given up. He had truly loved her, but he loved the kingdom he served more. Not the monarchs, but the people. The revolution had to happen. It was inevitable. Kirkonus was not as honourable as Volan had been, but he would be a better leader than the dead queen. He hoped so. Prayed for it to be so. If not, then all of this death...her death... would mean nothing. The stag would be there to hold him to his honour. It had cost Telios everything. He did not sell his soul only to trade one tyrant for another. He would make it count. Or he would do to the man several times worse what was done to Anna. It would not take minutes. It would take days.

* * *