"H-halt!" an aging guardsman said as he rushed to position himself between the guests and the terrifying figure in crimson armor who had just shattered the doors to the great hall. Only two of his companions stepped forward with him after seeing their barricade destroyed in a single blow, but the guardsman couldnât bring himself to look away from the skull-like visage of the Crimson Knightâs visor long enough to berate his remaining men into joining him.
"Run!"
"Out of my way, wench!"
"Aaaaa!"
Chaos enveloped the great hall as several guests rushed toward the side door that servants used to bring food from the kitchens, pressing up against each other as they crowded into the narrow passageway. Some pushed and shoved, others bodily flung servants aside in their haste to reach what now looked like the only path to escaping this nightmare.
"DO. NOT. MOVE!" Sybyll shouted loudly enough for her voice to echo off the stone walls. "If even one of ye leaves this hall, I swear Iâll put an end ta yer families by nightâs end. So all of ye can just stand right where ye are, anâ answer me questions if ye wanâ taâ survive this night."
Hearing Dame Sybyllâs shouted command, everyone in the great hall froze where they were. Some stood stiff as statues with one leg still in the air as they dared not take even a single step toward the door theyâd rushed for. Suddenly, in a single heartbeat, the hall had gone from the loud chaos of people scrambling to escape to the deathly silence of a tomb where some didnât dare to even breathe.
"Where is Ian Hanrahan?" Sybyll asked as she swept her gaze over the assembled elites of Hanrahan Town. She saw the wealthiest of merchants and their daughters, even a young lass who looked like the daughter of a knight, but there wasnât a trace of Ian Hanrahan or his son Bastian to be seen anywhere in the hall.
"He, um, that is, er, he..." the guardsman stammered, visibly shaking as he felt the shadow of death hovering over his shoulder. He wanted to answer, he wanted more than anything to say the words that would take this demon away from the great hall. But he couldnât. He couldnât put even three words together to say âheâs not hereâ under the intense pressure he felt from the blood-stained knight who filled the great hall with menace.
"Lord Loman had him arrested," an attractive young woman said from one of the tables near the front of the hall. Her companions were all cowering under the table, but she had believed to the very last moment that Lord Loman would come to her rescue or that he would protect them from the demons.
They had been able to see his luminous arrows sailing through the night sky to smite demons in the distance and even witness his duel with the strange snow demon as it approached the keep. It was only now, however, when the Crimson Knight herself stood among them that the woman realized Loman had been outmaneuvered. While he protected them from the demon-witch, the knight had taken advantage of the distraction to reach the great hall.
"Lord Loman gave him to Sir Dollin to guard," the woman said, trying to be helpful enough that the horrifying, demonic knight would leave. "Sir Dollin took the Lord Baron and his son, Bastian, to the guest rooms as prisoners," she said.
"Oh?" Sybyll said, raising an eyebrow behind her visor. "So heâs a prisoner now. Thatâs convenient. Who are ye girl? Whatâs yer name?" Sybyll asked in the most neutral tone she could manage. The pain of her wounds still tormented her and she was starting to fear that she would never know peace again after confronting Sir Tomminâs Holy Light Blade but that didnât mean she had to take out her fury on the slip of a girl who had likely been dragged to this gathering as an offering from her father to one powerful man or another.
"M-my name?" the willowy woman said, stammering at last as the Crimson Knight focused on her. "Iâm called Cossot, your, um, your ladyship," she said hesitantly, uncertain about how she was supposed to address the demon knight without offending her. "Iâm a nobody, really," she said. "My father is..."
"Yer father isnât worth two snips if yer the one speakinâ anâ heâs cowerinâ," Sybyll snorted. "But yer a useful one. Iâm fetching me cousin anâ Iâll drag his sorry arse back âere soon enough," Sybyll said. "Until then, Cossot, yerâ in charge oâ these folks. Keep them here, keep it orderly, anâ be ready taâ tell me who they all are when I return."
"Anâ Cossot," Sybyll said at the pale-faced woman who was trembling in fright as she suddenly became the center of attention. "Ye have nottinâ taâ fear from tha men in this hall," she said in her best attempt to be reassuring. "If any man lays a hand on ye that shouldnât, ye just tell me âis name anâ Iâll see âis hands removed from âis arms fer thaâ crime oâ touchin ye," she said as she panned her gaze across the great hall.
"The days when thaâ men oâ Hanrahan can bully a woman just because theyâre stronger or richer are over," Sybyll declared as she glared at several of the noteworthy and wealthy men in the great hall, many of whom she knew as patrons of the townâs brothels. "The sooner they learn that, the better!"
"Yes, your-your ladyship," Cossot said, dropping into the deepest, most reverent curtsy she could manage and nearly tipping over in the attempt to pay proper respects to the powerful demon who had chosen not only to spare her, but to take her into its service, at least for the moment.
Her heart hammered in her chest like the demon war drums beating outside the town, and for several breaths, she didnât dare to move, waiting for the dread Crimson Knightâs permission before she did anything.
"It already left," Roseen whispered to her friend from the place sheâd been hiding under the table. "You arenât bowing to anyone anymore."
"You! Shut up, you!" Cossot said, her face heating in embarrassment. "And get out of there! If I have to serve that demon, then you have to help me!"
"What? What did I do?" Roseen protested.
The two womenâs bickering finally broke the tension in the hall, at least enough for the frightened attendees to move again, but this time, none of them were willing to take even half a step toward the doors. The image of the fierce knight was just too overwhelming and there wasnât a single person among them who didnât understand that their bodies would present even less resistance to her powerful axe than the barricade had.
At the high table, a young girl, barely twelve years old, tugged at the sleeve of the young lady who had kept her close ever since the first warning bell sounded.
"Miss Rufina," Drema Quarrie asked hesitantly now that the Crimson Knight had left. "If sheâs here, do you think... do you think my father is... is..." she tried to ask, only for her voice to break in a half-stifled sob.
"I donât know," the elegantly dressed young woman said, holding tightly to the young ladyâs hand. "Sir Thorryn is a brave and strong knight but... if he had to fight the Crimson Knight, then heâs probably..." she said hesitantly, finding herself every bit as unable to finish the statement as Sir Thorrynâs young daughter had been.
At the same time, she wondered if Sir Niall was still alive, fighting out there in the west gate plaza. The arrows of light had ceased to fall from the sky, but she had no way of knowing if that meant the battle was over or not, and even less way of knowing what had happened to the knights who were fighting in the plaza.
All she knew was that the man who had asked her to accompany him for an evening of feasting had ridden off to face the most terrifying thing sheâd ever seen while the Baron who lorded over their town cowered within his keep. And when she realized that, a slight smile started to form on her lips.
She wouldnât say that she loved Sir Niall, sheâd only met him a few days ago, but she already knew that he was ten times the man Baron Ian Hanrahan would ever be. And somehow, the notion of the Crimson Knight catching the cowardly Baron who had given her no shortage of lecherous looks even while she attended to Sir Niall... it didnât seem like the worst thing that would happen tonight.