Read Take My Heart...: Dark Ages - Fantasy (Dark Gods & Tainted Souls Book 3) for Free Online

we’ll make the world safe again.”
    ***
    He released Elizebetha’s body to fall ungracefully to the floor, long after she was dead. Thellas realized he had been screaming and screaming. His throat was ripped raw. The red-shirted men had already started taking out the books and within moments, he heard the sound of fighting from outside. The king shook his head in disappointment and drew his sword. Why could they never understand he was protecting them all?
    The king ran from the room, his rapier drawn. His red- shirted men flanked him, pulling their own long curved daggers. He’d been taught the sword from a young age and had also been taught that a leader must fight along with his men.
    Outside of the doorway, the courtyard was a sea of bodies and drawn weapons. His men had made quick work of the Blackrock Guard and now stood guarding the doorway, from which he exited. Thellas passed through them and pushed to the front. Before him stood the so-called Cold Death, the mercenaries paid by Elizebetha. He’d not expected them to fight. Clearly the Red Bastards felt no such urges.
    A man at the front was clearly the leader. He was older and grizzled, looking every inch what he was, a mercenary captain. The man pointed a short, well-used sword at him, as his men drew theirs as well. The king had, at least, three hundred and this was just shy of a third of that. Still, they had about twenty archers.
    “Where’s Duchess Elizebetha?” the man shouted at him.
    “Show some respect, old man. I’m the king. Or do you forget?” he said.
    “I asked where she is, not who you are,” he yelled back.
    “I’m so sick of fools like you. What do you think you’re protecting? Do you have any idea of what is in those books? Any idea of who she was? How could she look so young and yet be aged, how could she win a battle against those odds. She has secrets in this Keep that need to be destroyed and her along with them.”
    “Thanks,” said Dagosh.
    “Why?”
    “For telling me why I should kill you,” he shouted and flicking his sword forward.
    A barrage of arrows flew and men started to fall around the king.
    ***
    Dagosh knew she was dead. They had pushed passed Goldie and he knew he should turn back, but what was the point? It was all over now. They had fought the Duke and won and now they had a King to deal with. He couldn’t win, but he could make the bastard hurt. He saw his smug young face, heard his words just waiting for him to say it. He’d killed her. That fine, lovely woman, who had been so tormented by all this was finally at rest, but now this little prick would join her.
    On his signal, his archers fired. They took down the men closest to the king but avoided him. Dagosh lunged forward and slashed at the king with his short sword. A tall man in red stepped in the way, fighting with a long knife. What a fool. Dagosh stepped back from the short-range weapon as the man slashed and cut his hand to the bone. Bringing the sword back in an upward swing, he sliced the man from navel to throat. It was easy. He remembered, with a smile, that he was always good at this part.
    His troops surged around him and fought hard. He saw all the one’s he’d trained and remembered all their faces. They seemed possessed by the same fury as him. Slaves all, forgotten, tormented, shit on by life. They’d all liked the Duchess. She always brought them drinks and a kind word when they were on the latest watches, and now this man had taken her. Maybe some had envisioned a life here.
    The king was backing away as the Cold Death held the advantage. A battle often came down to resolve. Dagosh kept cutting and cutting. A new man would get in the way of the king and he’d slash him down. One got a lucky cut on his arm. Another thrust a pike hard into his arm and he almost dropped his sword.
    He realized they were surrounded. The cries of death told him the battle had turned. Dagosh looked around to see the king’s men had circled their