Struggle – Chapter 3 (Those of the Night)
The hopeful group continued on their way, pushing through the darkness of the hallway with the torch that the midwife carried being their only guide. Along the way, they had passed many intersections – yet the midwife continued in the same direction, her eyes set forward. The mood was tense, and the only sound they could hear was the clicking of their boots. They had been walking for God knows how long, seeing nothing but the same grey, desolate corridors as they continued on their path. The midwife had long since passed the basket containing the child over to the female servant, as the weight had begun to tire her.
The female servant now clutched the handle of the basket with an iron grip, with a very tense expression written on her face. She felt the immense pressure that the midwife surely must have previously felt from carrying such a precious cargo. This child – born under a bloodred moon, with the blessing of many saints from the Heavens above. A strange contrast that only served to prove how divine this child's birth was. The female servant's fingers only curled around the handle more tightly as she reflected on the many signs that the doctor had discussed with the midwife.
The midwife suddenly came to a halt as she heard a rush of metallic boots. She whipped her head around, trying to locate the source of the sound. Her once calm expression seemed to twitch a little, exposing her sudden worry for a split second to the waiting darkness. The group behind her murmured amongst themselves out of anxiety and curiosity as to why their guide had suddenly stopped.
The soldier carrying the woman readjusted his grip once more, as she was slipping a little. His red cheeks had faded by then, but he was still careful not to accidentally touch the lady in any way conceived inappropriate. He observed the dark expanse of the hallway that still spread before them, and noticed a miniscule flash of light in far in the distance. He scowled, thinking about what he had just seen before concluding that is was a mere trick his eyes had played on his mind.
The midwife turned to the group and announced with a calm voice.
"I believe we are now directly under the northern part of the main bridge. We will have access to the canal through a secret door just up ahead."
The group visibly relaxed, their undying sense of worry now muffed out by the relief of seeing the outside world once more. The midwife began moving again, and led the group a few more meters over to a small wooden door that was built into a wall. That particular section of the wall was unusually dusty, as if never used. The door itself had multiple locks that adorned the right side of the door in a triangle formation. The midwife rummaged through her robe before pulling out a large set of keys all strung one ring. She picked one, ordinary looking key out and inserted it into the first lock.
As the midwife was about to unlock it, more metallic clangs were heard, alerting the group of the presence of more soldiers. They seemed to originate from a hallway not too far from where they stood, and that caused panic to flourish within the people's minds.
"Please hurry!" the female servant begged, tears beginning to swim in her desperate eyes. The rest of the group seemed to be affected by the female servant's plea, as they began to panic. The male servant holding the bucket began frantically searching the cobblestone walls for any other means of escape. The doctor squeezed the fabric over his heart, and leaned heavily against one of the cold walls as if about to suffer from a heart attack. Everyone else began exhibiting signs of great stress.
"We must stay calm!" the midwife shouted, fully facing the group now. A fierce expression was written on her face – eyebrows scrunched together, mouth set in a thin line, eyes ablaze with determination. "We have come too far to give up now."
The midwife's short speech had seemed to snap the group out of their panic. The midwife didn't bother checking to see if they were truly calm or not, as she refocused on her task of opening the door. She unlocked the first lock, and then proceeded to do the same for the second. The task seemed to take an eternity, as time slowed down for those trapped within the confinement of the underground level.
Finally, the midwife reached the final lock. However, in a cruel twist of fate, her shaking hand fumbled for a split second too long and dropped the keys. They landed on the floor with a harsh clang, driving the group into a mad frenzy again. Cursing loudly, and effectively shocking the group into a daze, the midwife struggled to pluck the keys off the ground. She successfully retrieved them, despite her bad back, and located the third and final key before jamming it into the last keyhole.
Suddenly, a dart protruded out of the midwife's neck. She stood still for a horrifyingly long moment; the key in her grasp fully turned; her expression one of pure surprise; before she fell to the cold floor, her body sprawled on the floor in an unceremonious fashion.
The whole group stared at her twitching body in silent shock before they erupted into panic.
The male servant who was carrying the bucket dropped the said luggage in shock as he clawed at his neck with a fearful expression. The bucket fell and splintered into a million pieces as it collided with the floor, bloody water splashing everything within a certain radius with a spray of pale red. The servant collapsed onto the ground just as the midwife did, and let out guttural screams while dying almost instantaneously.
One by one, the rest of the group fell to the fall just as the midwife and the male servant previously did. Small darts protruded out of their necks, and they crumpled to the floor in a convulsing mess. None of them even had time to scream, or call for help, as they were too shocked to even process that primal instinct of man. The darts came from both ends of the hallway, too, causing them to be unable to decide where to run to.
The soldier carrying the woman was, however, lucky to have armour covering his neck right where the dart had been directed at. The small 'dink' of the precise needle of the dart colliding with the metal protecting his neck was miraculously enough to snap him out of his daze. He ran to the door, and kicked it open, as he saw how the midwife had managed to unlock it. He saw that the female servant, who carried the very objective of their mission, had somehow survived too. The dart was hanging off the thin material of the hood that covered the female servant's head. The soldier inferred that the hood was what had saved the servant.
"Go!" he shouted to her, effectively jolting her out of her own trance. She vigorously shook her head before nodding, her cheeks wet with tears as they continued to cascade downwards and into the folds of her cloak. She stumbled towards the exit, only to scream in horror and fall onto her behind, the basket being jostled by the collapse. The newborn began to cry once, this time with horrible, ear-piercing wails.
The soldier's stomach launched into his throat. He rushed forward to apprehend the scene that the female servant had witnessed, only to freeze in place.
There was a whole squad of soldiers with theirs spears drawn, and pointed at the ones who tried to escape. A man wearing visibly richer, and more finely decorated armour stepped forward. He lifted his visor, and revealed a terrifying and horribly scarred face. The man – if he even was a human being – had two maliciously glowing yellow eyes, a hooked nose, and disgustingly cracked lips. He grinned to reveal a set of brilliant, white teeth that could shame a set of expertly sharpened kitchen knives.
"We are the Impalers of the Black Eagle," the man announced, his voice a chilling tone. It reminded the soldier carrying the woman, and the female servant of the hissing of a snake. "She who doth darken the battlefields with Her great wings of darkness hath sent us forward to apprehend the Prophecized Child."
The female servant looked down at the wailing newborn, who's face was beet red and mouth was wide open in an endless scream. She looked back up at the man, and steeled her expression.
"Do..." her voice faltered, but she continued. "Do you plan on killing the child?"
The previously mute woman, who was barely clinging to the soldier's back, suddenly let out an anguished cry.
"Please... Let my child live!" she pleaded in a shaking voice. "Take my life in the child's place! Are you such monsters that you would take the life of one who has not even see the light of its first day?"
The man simply laughed at the woman's pleas. "Thou nobles have always provided such a great source of amusement!" he jeered, keeling back in twisted humour. "And who are thee to call us monsters when we are your kin? Do thee refer to thineself as a monster alike to us?"
The woman began sobbing, her face falling onto the soldier's back. Her tears ran freely, and her cling was no longer there. She began sliding down the soldier's back, to which he responded with a sudden jerk.
The soldier silently observed the female servant's crying face, and felt an utter conflict tear him apart.
He could either abandon his lady, and somehow send the female servant and the child to the other side of the group of soldiers. However, this would mean that we would sacrifice his lady, which meant disrespecting his vows in the worst way possible, and disgracing his whole lineage. But his sense of duty towards his country reigned stronger. If the child were saved, then Moira still had hope, and he could at least rest with the knowledge that he had given this desolate land some small form of salvation.
The soldier remained for a long while before finally speaking again.
"It seems we have no other choice but to act very crassly," the soldier mused, his tone strangely light despite the situation he was in. He carefully lowered the woman he was carrying to the ground. He stood up, causing the apprehensive Impalers before them to strain the weapons forward. Unaffected by this, he walks over to the female servant, and crouches down next to her.
"Make sure you hold onto that basket like your life depends on it," he whispered to her, and she looked at him, puzzled. She still did as she was told.
"And do not let the child fall out," he added. This only confused her even more.
"Fall out?..." she trailed off as she suddenly felt herself being lifted into the air.
The Impalers stared at the soldier in shock as he picked up the female servant like a large boulder, ground his feet into the dirt, and tossed her over the heads of the countless men bent on killing them.