A Royal Sacrifice Ch. 22

"You will not have me," she said, her voice inaudible, yet still, the wizard seemed to hear it.

"Oh, indeed I shall," he answered, setting foot upon the lowest step of the dais.

Beside the Queen, Muriel gasped. "It is he! The Spectre!" she cried.

Evelyn frowned a moment, strangely calm despite the circumstances. She can see him, she thought. Bagdemagus' magic must be fading.

Indeed, at that moment, Benedict, alarmed by Muriel's cry, looked to the throne to see the wizard ascending the steps. His reaction was immediate. Leading the way with his sword, he charged toward the menacing figure.

But Bagdemagus was quicker, more skilled. He paused, snapping up his blade, stabbing into Benedict's chest, arching his back only slightly so that the Chancellor's thrust missed him by inches.

"BENEDICT!" screeched Muriel, watching the man she loved stumble back, dropping his sword to the ground, clutching his chest. His pale jacket quickly became dark with blood.

"Feel free to join him, you annoying old cow," snarled the wizard, advancing further and backhanding the Queen's handmaiden. Muriel grunted in pain, pitching off the dais to land hard upon the floor below.

Bagdemagus' sword flashed up as he pushed Evelyn back onto her throne. The tip of the blade barely missed Evelyn's cheek before it stabbed into the padded backing of the throne. The wizard leaned over the Queen, breathing hotly upon her.

"You cannot rob me of my due," he hissed, nudging her legs apart. Evelyn still wore only the coat of a guardsman, her virgin sex once more exposed as the wizard settled between her thighs. "I will take you here if need be."

Evelyn glared up at him hatefully. "I do not think so," she said. Her eyes flickered past the wizard.

Bagdemagus took the bait, rearing back for a moment to look behind him. As he did so, Evelyn swung her leg around, cracking the wizard across the jaw as she leapt from the throne, landing upon the marble floor below. And just then, Sir John and Prince Drest emerged from the melee, battered and wounded, yet still with much fight left in them. Without hesitation, they charged up the steps as Bagdemagus spun around to meet them. Blades clashed and sparked.

No one noticed as a sword was lifted heavily from the ground, the hilt filling the hand of a tortured and battered young knight as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Your evil comes to an end, wizard!" cried Drest valiantly as he and John battled Bagdemagus upon the dais.

"Not by your hand, boy!" retorted the wizard, fending off the two men's blows, then spinning low and down, slashing outward. His blade caught the Prince across the chest, splitting leather, flesh and muscle. With a grunt of pain, Drest stumbled backward, falling heavily to the ground.

John was quick to take advantage of the opening the wizard left him, and thrust with all his might, impaling the wizard through the abdomen. John leaned in, forcing his weight upon Bagdemagus, making his blade bite deep. "How about mine?" he growled with vengeful satisfaction.

But the fire did not leave Bagdemagus' eyes, even though his sword fell from his grip, clattering down the steps. "Not . . . quite," he spat, then hammered his fist into John's jaw, mustering all his supernatural strength. The knight was lifted off his feet by the blow, flying backward before he, too, slammed into the floor.

Thp!

The wizard flinched, wincing as an arrow bit deep into his side. His eyes darted back along the arrow's path, to find none other than Evelyn, kneeling upon the floor, setting another arrow upon her bow.

Thp!

The second arrow struck him in the shoulder as he turned to face her, ready to leap off the dais. He faltered on his feet, but the inhuman wizard would not fall.

Thp!

The third was snatched from the air, just before it could pierce the wizard's skull. Bagdemagus sneered down at the Queen, letting the arrow fall to the ground.

Evelyn stared in stupefaction. What does it take to slay him?

"RAARRGHHH!"

The bellow filled the room, echoing thunderously off the walls and garnering the attention of the remaining combatants. Stumbling in his mad charge, Cedric hurled himself forward, barely able to see, guided by nothing more than rage and intuition.

"For the Queen!" he cried, bounding up the steps, sword clutched desperately in both hands as he slashed downward. The blade sliced through flesh and bone, eliciting a spray of blood from Bagdemagus' torso. The wizard was hurled back onto the throne, sputtering in pain, looking upon the battered face of a man who, by all rights, should not have possessed the strength to even stand.

The wizard extended a hand to protect himself, but another powerful, vicious slash cut cleanly through, severing the arm just below the elbow. Fingers twitching, the hand bounced down the steps to the floor. Bagdemagus gaped in shock.

"That . . . was . . . for me," sputtered Cedric, swaying on his feet, glaring through blood-encrusted eyes. With a last, Herculean effort, he turned his sword about, raising it high above his head in both hands, the blade flashing for a moment in the light, the point angled toward the wizard's chest.

"And this . . . ."

Bagdemagus shuddered, for the first time in a century feeling the weight of his own mortality. He swallowed blood, tried to speak, but no sound would escape.

". . . is for . . . REBECCA!" Bellowed Cedric once more, stabbing down with all his remaining strength, spearing the wizard through the heart. Bagdemagus convulsed, spasming as his life was taken from him. The sword stabbed all the way through his body, into the throne beneath, resulting in a great, thunderous crack! as the throne itself was split.

For a moment, all was silent in the throne room. All battle ceased. None could believe what had just happened.

Every eye fell upon Cedric, who wavered on weak legs. Looking like a man drunk, he turned and descended the steps, as Evelyn approached.

Her voice quivered. She, like everyone else, was stunned that the young knight had actually succeeded where none had triumphed before. "C-Cedric . . .?"

He could barely see her, but the sound of her voice was enough. "My . . . Queen . . . ."

"Cedric!" cried Evelyn, barely catching the knight as he collapsed.

***

"'Tis almost impossible to believe," Sir John spoke as he watched the remainder of the wizard's bandit army being escorted beyond the gates. Reserves had been called up from the village, and once word had spread that the seemingly immortal Bagdemagus had been slain, it seemed that every man, woman and child had flocked to the outer walls of the castle.

Beside him, modesty preserved by robes, Evelyn nodded. "If we had not seen it happen, I would have sworn it all a dream. But it is not. The wizard is dead."

John noted the sullen expression on his cousin's face. "I would expect you to be happier than this."

Evelyn smiled weakly. "While my heart is gladdened," she said. "My spirit still suffers. Drest and Benedict both were gravely wounded, Eric is dead, and Cedric . . . he may not see the morning. How he still lives is . . . incredible."

John smiled. "A testament, I'd say, to his strength, and your foresight into making him a knight. Who would ever believe a cobbler's son would slay the Spectre That Walks?"

Evie nodded mutely, her eyes swollen and puffy. "At the least," she whispered. "If he passes this night, he will be with his beloved once more."

John reached to Evelyn, tentatively pulling her close. A more genuine smile touched her lips as she leaned against the knight. "Perhaps you should do the same, my Queen."

Evelyn straightened, and wiped her eyes. "I am still the Queen," she said. "My duty is for my people."

John scoffed. "Go and see to Drest," he insisted. "Do not make me pull rank."

Evelyn frowned upon John.

The knight chuckled. "Correct me if I am wrong, but seeing as how we have the same grandfather, and I am older . . . technically, I suppose, that would make me the rightful regent of Vix." He finished his statement with a wink.

Evie laughed softly. "Well, I suppose you are right, cousin," she answered with mock haughtiness. "Are you saying you want the kingdom? By all means, you may have it."

John returned the mirth. "Let's get you married to the Prince, first," he said.

Buoyant emotion rose to the Queen's face, returning color. She shook her head in wonder. "Let us not think too far ahead. Right now, I am afraid to even pinch myself, for fear of waking up."

John pinched the Queen's arm through her robe, making her yelp under her breath. "There," he said simply with a mischievous smile. "Is there anything else I can do for her highness?"

Evelyn touched John's face, staring up into his eyes. "You have done more than enough, cousin," she whispered, then lifted up to kiss him briefly. Without a word, Evelyn stepped down from the mansion, immediately surrounded by a quartet of the Royal Guard who escorted her on the way to the small hospital.

John smiled, watching her go. He took a breath, touched his bruised jaw.

King John, he thought, turning slowly toward the doors of the keep. It does have a nice ring to it . . . .

***

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