Choice of foes

Chapter 2

Scorne opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at his opponent. The hammer his enemy wielded had slammed itself right across his face. He could feel the coppery taste emanating through his mouth. The taste brought excitement throughout his system. Tightening his grip on his bloodied qatar, he grinned menacingly.

His opponent shook in her footing but glared at him heatedly.

"Dear dear Lisolette..." he spat a bit of blood aside and laid his emerald gaze on the female smith.

The smith shuddered at the assassin's mere mention of her name.

"Don't you dare call me by name. I will kill you and take over this rundown castle!" she cursed him angrily, dangerously waving the hammer towards him.

With rogue-like speed, Scorne evaded the blow, moved forward to grab her by the face and push her against the wall. The hammer fell on the floor with a sound clang. Grinning once again, he crushed the smith's reddening face in his palm. Lisolette, fighting the weakness that made her let go of her only weapon, grabbed a hold of the assassin's wrist and squeezed tightly.

"If this is such a rundown castle, why even waste your own life trying to take it?"

Lisolette cringed and tried pushing the assassin away. The grip was grinding her teeth together and the wall was hard behind her.

"Well dear Lisolette? Why do you let yourself suffer?" Scorne smiled in delight as he could feel the girl's temple pulsing beneath his grasp.

The smith cringed again and forcefully kicked her captor in the abdomen. The grip on her face did not budge. She kicked again and again but her enemy only smiled at her.

"Must you be so fierce, dearest?"

In an instant, a qatar was driven deep into the smith's torso. Blood spurted from where the blade had penetrated her. The assassin smiled and licked his lips.

"You know I love the taste of blood..." Scorne let go of the girl and gently pushed her against the wall.

Lisolette coughed hoarsely, blood flooding over her taste buds. She felt no pain in her stomach. She was strangely numb.

The assassin neared his face to the smith's and sneered playfully. But the girl was not ready to surrender. Upon gathering her remaining strength, Lisolette swung her fist towards her opponent.

Emerald eyes were glazed with bloodlust. Scorne caught the smith by the wrist and pinned her against the wall.

"Feisty aren't you?"

Scorne locked his lips against Lisolette's, tasting the distinct sting of dying blood in the girl's mouth. His being became excited as he felt the body against him try to squirm away.

As he broke the kiss, he kept the girl in his grasp.

Lisolette was fuming red though weak. As she heatedly returned the emerald stare, she felt herself growing heavy.

"Scorne, you bastard..."

In an instant, Scorne the bastard turned away from her and brought his qatar heavily through the air and slashing at the smith's neck. Head, severed from the body, rolled on the floor and blood spurted from the wound. Splattered by the crimson liquid, the assassin licked at his lips and hands hungrily.

At that moment, the whole castle rang with bloodthirsty laughter.

Aelle watched the assassin sleep soundly as he was tied against the post.

"Will he be alright?" she asked her loved priest.

"I believe he will. His bloodied qatar has been separated from him."

Sarabande wrapped an arm around the huntress. She had been quite uncomfortable with this whole battle. She was forced to fight against her former comrades. With a quick brush at her hair, she sighed.

"We have a final hour. Do you think we'll hold strong?"

"We will."

Sarabande, in comfort, planted a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead and smiled.