Belka faced the two cavaliers, halberd leveled. One wore a helmet and the other had a mad look in his eyes. Both were sullen, and their armor was spattered with blood. “Throw down your swords!” Belka called, gripping her halberd. She found she was shaking, to be subject to their maddened attention. Dust floated in the dark blue air of the fortress hallway.
The helmeted cavalier lurched forward with a swing, and Belka swatted his blade aside with the flat of the axehead. He stumbled, nearly falling, as the second cavalier approached. “And should we let another one through?” The helmetless cavalier called hoarsely to his fellow.
“I need to be through,” Belka said. “I’m not with the madfolk outside, I’m—”
The helmetless cavalier leapt toward her, and on instinct, she cut him down. Her axehead lodged in his side, and with a grunt he fell to his side. A line of blood trickled and stained the carpet on the granite floor as she wrenched the blade free.
The helmeted cavalier, still disarmed, ripped off her helmet—for it was a woman, and not a man as Belka had thought—and ran toward the body of her fellow cavalier. “Athalu!” She cried.
“Oh, you fool,” the cavalier said, “you damned fool.” She knelt, and turned the dead cavalier, Athalu, over onto his back. He was still breathing, though Belka was sure her cut had been deep enough to prove fatal in time. “This is your penance, boy.” She looked back toward Belka, her brown eyes brimming with tears. “You said you are not with the townsfolk.”
Belka nodded, lowering her guard slightly. This cavalier had been disarmed, her voice evening, though tears still dripped down and slipped off her chin onto her breastplate. “I was sent here to stop the Lord,” Belka said, “but I know not how to do it successfully.” She took one step forward. “What is your name, cavalier?”
“Kellja,” she said.
“Kellja,” Belka said, “do you feel burdened with what you’ve done?”
Kellja nodded. Belka did not feel she had to ask why. Both of the cavaliers’ armor had been marked with specks of blood, and their eyes weary and guilt ridden.
I am not with the madfolk, Belka thought. But they expected me to die as easily as one of them, as easily as the ones they’d already cut down.
“I wish for redemption,” Kellja said, “and the only way I know is through sacrifice.”
Stopping beside the kneeling cavalier, Belka rested a hand on Kellja’s shoulder. “If we keep Lord Regulus from commanding further atrocities, I believe you will not need sacrifice for redemption.”
Kellja sniffled, then stood, with Belka’s help. “Are you asking if I will join you?”
Trying to smile, Belka nodded. “Yes, join with me, and help end this growing horror.”
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