Gertrude III
Gertrude dove toward the scene. The poor band of knights snapped out of shock to clumsily ready their weapons. She gave them credit; they had just watched one of their own fly into the air and explode.
It was immediately evident to Gertrude that King Triton had made himself invisible. The knights were likely mercenaries, the dregs of society wandering the land guided by bravado, lust, and greed. Unlike Gertrude, they would have no means of seeing Triton. A simple invisibility spell wouldn’t slow her.
Gertrude watched Triton stride toward the group purposefully. The knights couldn’t find their assailant; they searched from side to side and waved their weapons like children. A crimson blade caught the sunlight. It made sense that the sword, Craven’s Edge, was looking to upgrade its host. There were few more powerful than the King Triton.
Gertrude’s Raven wings clung tight to her side as she dove full speed directly at Triton. Mentally, she cycled through her bag of tricks, wondering if anything could prevent the King from his goal. She hadn’t fought in a long time but remembered that plans never worked. Fighting was chaos. She was no warrior. She was much more suited to the subtle arts: influencing folks, interjecting from the shadows, and mending wounds of the body, mind, and spirit. Either Gertrude’s time as her Queen’s servant was drawing to a close, or her Queen was truly desperate. The sword could inflict such terror in Triton’s hands that Gertrude shuddered to think of Covidia’s fate. Though, if anyone could tame the blade, it would be Triton.
None of this was for Gertrude to decide. She quit wasting time thinking. She reached Triton before he engaged the bewildered knights again.
She could not cast spells from within her Raven’s body. The flock swarmed the group, though Triton’s singular focus on the sword remained unbroken. Gertrude grabbed Triton’s shoulder with the Raven’s claw, then popped back into her own body. The spell sat in the front of her mind, and she urged it out as quickly as possible. It was a nasty thing, this spell. She hated its casting. An eruption of negative energy hit Triton, and he stumbled in place. A lesser being would have dropped dead in an instant. Instead, Triton turned to scowl at her.
Gertrude was blasted backward through the air and slammed into the ground, rolling until her momentum stopped her. She felt weak and old and injured.
“Begone, witch!” Triton bellowed at her. “You meddle in doings beyond your knowledge.”
Gertrude pushed herself to her feet. She watched Triton blast a knight across the river, slamming him into a tree on the other side. Gertrude put another spell to mind and sent all her might toward Triton. The King seized, limbs twitching where she stopped him mid-stride. Gertrude strained to hold him, and after only a moment, he was free.
The knights still could not see Triton. They scrambled into the woods, watching over their shoulders. Triton roared as he broke free from Gertrude’s spell, then flung a lightning bolt toward her. Time slowed, and Gertrude watched the bolt jump through the air. She was powerless. She saw the flock of ravens rush to intercept the lightning, flying right into the bolt. The energy jumped from bird to bird, and bodies fell before her. She feared the lightning might fell the entire flock to strike her. But then it dissipated, and all was still. At her feet lie a pile of raven bodies. She couldn’t think of them now, so her heart stored the pain for later.
“It’s a nasty sword!” Gertrude didn’t realize she was out of breath. She gasped out the words; it was all she could think to say.
Triton still glared at her. Maybe the knights could get away. “Evil spreads in the north, and soon an army will march south. With Craven’s Edge, I will save Covidia! I will save thousands of lives! Go home, witch.” Triton held up a hand, palm facing the woods, and a knight came tumbling through the air toward him. The crimson blade was in the knight’s hand. Triton caught the knight by the arm and reached with his other hand for Craven’s Edge.
Gertrude had one last chance. She could not save the knight. An ancient incantation formed on her lips. A deep, evil color rose from the ground in a circle around Triton and the knight. Arcana-induced energy danced around the circle’s perimeter like flame. Triton flinched and fell to a knee, reaching for his head. The knight’s body went limp and lifeless as Triton dropped him. The sword hit the ground and lay still.
Gertrude took a steady breath, holding the spell. Sweat formed on her forehead. Her fingers clawed the air as she struggled to maintain the circle. Triton held his head in both hands, yelling. It became a roar. He raised himself off his knee to stand again. Gertrude fought but felt immense resistance now. At once, Triton flung out his arms, and the circle exploded outward, tossing Gertrude back to the ground.
She was spent. She struggled for breath; she could not feel her body. Her vision tunneled, and she fought to keep her eyes open. She watched Triton’s chest heave as he collected his breath, then leaned over to pick up Craven’s Edge.
Her Raven flew toward Triton. Gertrude could only focus on the bird. Was it always so beautiful when it flew? She saw each wing flap in great detail, as she never had before. It was a stoic creature. Ravens could never be tamed; Gertrude and her Raven were equal partners. It was beautiful.
The Raven flipped, gliding along its back to turn its claws toward Triton. It did not slow itself down. Triton was unaware of the bird. The talons struck Triton’s back. Gertrude watched in grossly slow time as Triton’s body tensed and contracted toward the talons. He was getting smaller. His body was merging with her Raven. Soon they were one, and the Raven’s body fell to the ground as if an arrow had shot it.
Gertrude fell unconscious.
It was the first time in a long time that she did not dream.
Previous Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/02/24/resistance-chapter-7/
Next Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/03/10/resistance-chapter-9/
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