/I don't own anything you recognize in this story. /
Chapter Twenty
"For it is God's will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men. Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover up for evil; live as servants of God." –1 Peter 2:15-16
Balian struggled desperately against Saladin all the way towards the prisoners' quarters to no avail. He felt a rising panic welling up in his throat, but there wasn't anything he could do. His fading strength was no match to Saladin's perfect strength. Wasn't there anything that he, Balian, could do to stop himself from dying in the hands of the enemy?
"I don't know why you're resisting, so, Balian," Saladin exclaimed, "we gave you a chance at life once before, but now you've forsaken it and now you pay the price."
"I will not be free while I know that the love of my life's trapped in your hands," Balian gritted between his teeth, still thrashing violently.
"So noble, so valiant, but I do believe you're time is running out, my dear friend," Saladin said.
"Why can't you just let Sibylla go? I don't care what happens to me, just as long as she goes free," Balian said, his attempts for freedom getting less and less frequent.
"No, I can't, she, like you, is a prisoner of war and she will remain here until one side or another wins," Saladin.
Balian growled, but he knew that it couldn't have been anything else. At least Eamon was with Sibylla right now. They would think of something—he knew they had the wits to think of something.
"I thought you were supposed to be up on the wall, defending Jerusalem with the rest of the men. Some leader you are, Saladin," Balian said, trying anything to slow the man down.
"I left my first lieutenant in charge. They will survive until I come back," Saladin exclaimed, "now, you listen here, you better shut your mouth or you'll find yourself dead before you know what hit you."
Thinking it was better to keep his mouth shut, Balian remained quiet the rest of the journey.
--
"Come on, you lousy stench, hurry up before we lose them," Sibylla growled between her teeth towards Eamon, who had gotten himself tangled up in a shrug that they were hiding in.
"I'm sorry, but you're not giving me much help here," Eamon growled back.
"Oh!" Sibylla said exasperatedly and yanked Eamon to his feet and continued on with the boy following in her wake.
As they walked on silently, Sibylla felt a mortal dread rising from the pit of her stomach. Please don't be dead, Sibylla prayed silently. Please don't kill my lord Balian. Finally coming around the corner towards the prison, Sibylla saw Saladin and Balian disappear through the stone doors. Sibylla sighed with relief, knowing that they still had a chance at getting at Balian before it was too late. Balian had probably fought the whole way here. Keep fighting, Balian, Sibylla thought, and hurried onward.
--
It seemed as if they had been fighting for ages. The men were getting weary; John could see it in their eyes, yet they continued to fight. He shouldn't have felt proud of that, but he couldn't help it. A good soldier wouldn't do anything less than to fight until death. But was it worth killing all the men for a vain cause? John shook his head. He was going to leave Sibylla there to her death.
A soldier, who was fighting next to John, shouted over the din of the noise.
"Sir John, this is hopeless! We should turn back before we all perish in the sun!"
John shook his head. "No, we keep fighting! Remember what you're fighting for, man!"
The soldier looked disgruntled but continued to fight. He would never disobey the leader of the army. John turned back to the man he was fighting and after several moments, succeeded in knocking him to the ground and advancing to the next person.
He never heard the call of warning—he was too busy in his own battles. Finally hearing something, John turned around and was face to face with one of the enemy. By the time it clicked in his mind on what to do, the man had raised his sword and plunged it deeply into John's shoulder.
John screamed in pain and he heard others around him yell in shock and apprehension. Twisting sideways, he felt himself fall down to the ground but not before being thrust sideways, out away from the battle where he fell heavily with a cry of pain.
It was the worst pain he ever felt in his life. He was going to die; he could feel every part of his body burning in rage and protest. He was going to die and he hadn't even saved Sibylla yet. What were people going to remember of him now? A loser, who couldn't save one of his own? He hoped not, but he felt sure that was going to happen. Slowly, John slipped into unconsciousness and knew no more.
--
Slamming the prison door shut behind Balian, Saladin laughed heartily. Balian groaned and struggled to get to his knees to glare up at the man who put him here again. How could people be reduced to such evil as torturing people to no end?
"Well, here you are again, Balian," Saladin exclaimed. "I hope the place makes you feel at home, because this is where you'll be until you die, I am sure."
"You—you—evil—" Balian sputtered, but the man only laughed.
"I would save your breath if I were you, Balian," Saladin said, "you may need it for evil."
Balian watched as Saladin left the building and felt his heart sinking. He was right, there was no escaping now, no people to save him from his fate. He was here until he died.
--
As Saladin left, a small hand gently grabbed the keys hanging at Saladin's waist without the man ever feeling it and hurried silently away. Reaching the shadows just inside the prison, Eamon hurried over to Sibylla.
"I got the keys. He didn't even feel a thing," Eamon informed Sibylla as they hurried down to where Balian sat captive.
"Good," Sibylla murmured.
Hearing loud steps moving down the hallway, Balian raised his gaze slightly. Were there so much excitement in the prison when a battle was raging on? His gaze turned into shock when he saw Sibylla and Eamon appear in front of the bars. Quickly getting up, Balian hurried over to the front of the cell.
"Sibylla, Eamon, but how—" Balian asked, too stunned to say anything.
"Don't speak now, Balian, we must hurry now," Sibylla said.
Finding the right key for the cell, Sibylla unlocked the door and swung it open. Striding out of the cell, Balian swept Sibylla into his arms and gave a gently, lingering kiss on the lips. A bundle of emotions exploded in Sibylla's chest. This was the moment that she was waiting for but—
"Now's not the time, Balian," Sibylla said as she pulled away from Balian.
Balian nodded. "Let us go, then. Our time here is no more."
And with that, the three of them left the prison and headed toward the edge of Jerusalem.