Chapter 25: Pleads for mercy
The two assassins were running like their lives depended on it – because they did. They were hurt, badly. One clutched a side that was sticky and dark with blood, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
The other stumbled every few steps, holding a shoulder that looked like it had been twisted the wrong way. Their clothes were torn, dirty, and painted with the grim colors of a terrible fight. The long corridors of the Main Hall stretched out before them, never-ending.
Their hurried footsteps made loud thud-thud-thud sounds on the cold, smooth stone floor. The noise bounced off the walls, following them, making them feel like they were being chased by the sound itself.
Finally, they saw it – a break in the corridor, a wide opening. Hope flickered in their tired eyes. They used the last of their strength, pushing through the opening, bursting into a large, open space.
It was the central hall. Their momentum carried them a few steps inside before they lost control, skidding on the smooth floor. They slid to a stop, breathing hard, shoulders bent over as they tried to suck in air.
They looked up, eyes scanning the vast hall. And that’s when their brief moment of hope crashed.
Standing right in their path was a group of Royal Guards. Tall, strong men in shining armor, holding their weapons steady. And right in front of the guards, looking straight at them, was Charles.
He looked serious, a little surprised to see them in such a state. One hand rested casually on the metal hilt of his sword, which hung by his side in a strong leather sheath.
His eyes, sharp and steady, were fixed on the two bloodied assassins. The air in the large hall, which moments ago felt empty and echoing, suddenly felt thick with tension. It was like everyone stopped breathing at the same time.
Charles didn’t waste a second. His voice was loud and clear, cutting through the quiet hall like a sharp knife.
"Surrender yourselves!" he commanded sharply. His voice sounded strong and unafraid, a total contrast to the ragged, fearful breaths of the two assassins.