Chapter 8: Riot
Blade's troops marched through Bowerstone Old Quarter, weapons drawn. Forge stood next to his leader, ready to shout orders. Logan's guards charged at the rebel soldiers.
"Standby," Blade whispered to Forge, who shouted to the troops behind him.
"Ready..." she paused, before bellowing, "For Sparrow!" and charging forward.
Her troops followed after her.
Blade clashed swords with one guard and Forge attacked another behind her. He and Blade exchanged looks before someone yelled, "Fire in the hole!" and threw a grenade in their direction. Forge lunged at Blade in order to shield her. After a loud boom as a building crumbled beside them, Forge and Blade quickly stood up and dusted themselves off.
"Come on," Forge shouted and leaped toward one guard.
Blade darted toward the castle. She passed several guards, who rushed after her to stop her from getting any closer to her destination. Forge followed, striking at the foes. As Blade reached the gates of the castle, she suddenly wished she had a mortar.
"Blast," she cursed, noting the massive barrier, "how are we supposed to get around?"
"Maybe, with this?" Ben appeared and uncovered a hidden mortar, conveniently placed near the gate.
"Ben, you're a genius!" Blade's face lit up.
Forge grinned, "Come on, let's light this thing up!"
Without much effort, Blade blew up the castle gates. She, Ben, Forge, and their remaining troops raided the castle. Walter, Page, Kalin and Sabine were somewhere among the mess, but Blade lost track of them. She could only think of her brother.
Logan watched the demolition of Old Quarter outside a large, castle window. Beside him, a door swung open. Logan turned to see an army of renegades, his sister among them.
"Surrender!" Forge held his weapon to Logan's neck.
"No!" screamed Blade. She threw herself between Logan and the sword. "No."
Forge gaped at her. He wasn't sure what to do. He threw his sword down.
Logan comforted the weeping girl. She leaned against him and sobbed.
The troops seized Logan, of course. They arrested him and kept him in prison while he awaited his trial.
Forge later asked Blade what had come over her. She answered him that she grew up with Logan so he was important to her.
"I wouldn't be able to live with myself after something like that."
Blade was crowned ruler over Albion, naturally since her brother was overthrown. Whether she would rebuild Albion or continue her brother's destruction was up to her.
The next thing she knew, a week had passed. Between preparing for the Crawler's attack (that Logan warned her about during his trial) and keeping herself entertained, Blade was busy.
"Forge?" Blade called to her trusty sidekick after one long day of tromping through Silverpines in search of adventure and battle.
The queen was back at the castle, in her master bedroom, sore from chasing after balverines all day. She kicked off her tall hiking boots and plopped on her cozy bed, arms outstretched.
"Hm?" came a voice, more masculine than the redhead's.
"Do you ever think of life if you hadn't met me?" she asked, nuzzling her face into her comforter.
"Oh," the blacksmith, in his own bedroom across the hall, shuffled toward the queen. "Move over," he said.
"Mmm," was the queen's reply.
Forge grinned at her. Blade sighed and scooted over to make room for him. She felt the comforter's soft texture beneath her. Forge laid down facing her.
"Life if I hadn't met you..." he said, thoughtfully. "That would be too ordinary."
"Ordinary?" she looked at the candle-lit ceiling.
"...as a blacksmith, forging swords for the rest of my life. Then teaching some poor chap how to when I get too old to do it myself."
"Imagine what kind of girl you'd marry..." Blade whispered.
"A commoner, who'd nag me til the cows come home."
Blade stifled a laugh. "And when do they come home?" she asked.
"That's just it! They don't!" said Forge.
They shared a laugh.
"Oh, what a life," Forge said, as his laughter died down. "It's not a life I could see myself living."
"You'd raise strapping young boys and proper young ladies..." Blade continued, biting her lip. "Do you ever wish you could do that? Live the life of commoner?"
Forge coughed at the thought. "What?" he studied the queen, still staring at the ceiling. He laid back down and whispered to her, "you wanna hear something crazy?"
"Hit me," she answered.
Forge sighed, "when we met, I was thinking of running away and becoming a tattooist."
It was Blade's turn to cough. A laugh bubbled up inside of her until she couldn't hold it in anymore and finally exploded in a fit of coughing and giggling.
"What's so funny?" Forge demanded, "it's true!"
"A tattooist?" Blade's sides began to ache.
When her laughter finally dissolved, she laid her head on top of Forge's chest and feel him breathing under her.
"Hey," she said. "Wanna hear something even crazier?"
"Don't talk," said Forge, "it feels weird."
"Ditto," Blade grinned. "When we first met, I didn't want anything to do with the rebellion."
"Why not?" asked Forge.
"I wanted to make a difference," said Blade, "but I didn't want it to come between me and Logan. Besides, queen sounds like an enormous responsibility. What if I mess up? What if Albion hates me? What if-?"
"Hey," Forge said, stroking her hair. "You're not going to mess up. You know why? Because you'll have me to support you. We're in this together. Don't worry."
"Would you leave me?" Blade asked, brow knit.
Forge kissed her head. "Not if the sky was falling."
"You have a choice, you know," Blade said.
Forge watched as the girl rose and fell, rose and fell, as he breathed.
"It's us against the world," he said.
