I'm sorry I took so long to post. I've been very busy. Just believe me. Anyway, here y'all go. I promise I'll have another chapter up really, really soon.
A shadowed hand drew back, pulling the already taught string further backwards. The fingers released the string, which gave a muffled twang as the arrow whistled through the air. A split second later the sound of a strangled cry proved that the guard was dead.
"Good shot," said a voice, and a cloaked figure dashed forward, his black cape billowing out as he rushed to the wall. Ten others followed his example, running from the shelter of the trees to press themselves against the tall, dark, stone barricade.
A few moments later the gate was rattled ferociously. As the clanging died away silence fell. The sound of metal against wood sounded again as hands pushed and pulled on the criss-crossed metal bands.
"What is it? Your round of watch isn't over yet!" hissed an angry voice from inside the walls.
"I think I see men approaching!" exclaimed the one outside the gate. "Open!"
There was a grating sound as the iron key scraped against the bolt. The high pitched scream of metal scraping metal pierced the night and the gate swung back on its rusty hinges, creaking as if in protest.
An instant later a second arrow found its mark and caused the muffled thud of something falling on the stone courtyard.
"Help! We're being attacked!" called the cloaked figure, cupping his hands to his mouth.
With cries of alarm guards raced down from their separate stations and a few stumbled out of the sleeping quarters. Five of the men knelt beside the hooded man in the center and aimed their bows.
"Hurry! More men!" the leader of the invaders shouted, voice full of anxiousness.
Two more guards appeared and two more arrows dispatched them.
The caped one began giving orders to his men. "Two of you, gather the arrows and stand watch. You, guard as well."
"Invaders!" screamed a desperate voice from the ground. "Set it on fire!"
The cloaked man whirled to face the sound of the voice and brought his sword down on the one who had given the death sentence for all the prisoners in Tyrrian. The blade pierced through flesh and bone and a rasping scream echoed through the prison's courtyard.
The muffled roar of an explosion shook the earth beneath their feet and it was mere moments before flames were licking up the sides of the wall out of the door ahead of them.
"The guards are running, sir!" shouted an archer, slinging his bow over his back.
"Let them!" he retorted, the orange glow glinting in his blue eyes. "You know what to do! Find the girl." He took off, dashing up the stairs, sword out and ready. "Lucina! Lucina, where are you? Shout!"
He continued his orders as he pushed his way through a wooden door and burst into a dark hallway, illuminated by two torches. "Lucina!"
He shot forward and abruptly heard her voice. "Here? I'm here! Oh, fire! I'm here!"
With a grunt he dashed forward and stopped short in front of the door that kept her from fleeing. Smoke was wafting from the barred window in the center of the wooden door and two white hands clutched the iron bars.
The man look at the lock. "Get away from the door, Lucina!"
The hands disappeared and he brought back his sword and swung it forward. The blade was a flash of silver as it slashed through the air, but the clang as it struck the bolts was very real. He jerked open the door and saw her.
She was a young girl, small and frail. Her pinched face was white and her hair was stringy and oily as it hung about her. Her dress proved she was a princess who had fallen from favor and the look in her large eyes filled him with compassion.
He stepped forward and took both small, cold hands in his, pulling her towards his warm body and away from the heat of the flames that were now spreading up one wall through a slit in the ground. With a twist of his arm he had her in the position of an infant in the arms of its mother and he left the room, his hood flying off as he ran back down the hall, revealing a mop of brilliant red hair.
As his boots touched the stones that spread over the courtyard, a man raced up to him. "You found her!"
"Yes. Any other prisoners?"
"A few old men. It seems King Robin preferred execution over his most infamous prison. You're lucky," he added, turning to the young woman clutched in the arms of his leader.
"Hush, Pac," he growled. "You're not helping. You released them?"
"Certainly, Roy. And they all ran off. Or should I say tottered off."
"Red hair should warn you of my short temper," Roy hissed. "Gather the others. To the horses."
As the hooves struck the ground in a monotonous rhythm Lucina leaned against the broad back of the one who had come to rescue her and squeezed her eyes shut. Two salty tears dripped off the tips of her long lashes.
Aww. Lucina was rescued. She deserved it, poor girl. Review.