Thronegarden Andrew Dickerson (the little red hen ebook TXT) 📖

“You are alone,” Luyna chided.

Before Damselfly could respond, the whole castle shook and, echoing up from below, they heard the first sounds of battle.

Delridden had been uneasy about letting Damselfly enter the castle alone. He did not know the boy Rat and Buttons would not be much help in an emergency. From the moment they departed, Delridden was pacing like a caged animal, even the Matriarch could not assuage his anxiety. In truth, though he was loath to admit it, Delridden had become extremely fond of the princess. She had restored his purpose and given him hope that he might reunite with Uriel. Regaining his family was only part of it, because now he felt that Damselfly was his family, and when Orion had taken her away in the Shadowgarden, it had felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Delridden might not have any familial bonds to Damselfly; still, he had adopted her in his heart, and he was certain that Uriel would agree with his decision.

“We cannot just stand around doing nothing,” he stated, for the hundredth time.

“They have been gone a while,” the Matriarch agreed.

“What can we do? The castle is well-fortified,”

Bakka enquired.

“I don’t care how many men stand between me and Damselfly, it will not be enough to stop me,” Delridden vowed.

While the Matriarch questioned her companion’s wisdom, she was also growing worried about Damselfly and she had spent enough time waiting.

“We will go in and hope it is enough,” the sorceress concluded.

All of their followers were eager to help Damselfly despite the odds being against them. The Peritwinkle volunteered to charge the gates, and once they were open,

Delridden would lead the first wave through.

The castle gate was fifteen feet high and twelve feet wide, yet it sprung open like a mousetrap when the Peritwinkle bulldozed his way through it. Immediately, he became a large target for the waiting soldiers who shot arrows and threw spears at him from behind a barricade. Delridden wasted no time leading his men through the castle entrance. Villagers from Wintergarden and Shades from Shadowgarden made up the majority of his army with the Matriarch adding her magical prowess to the invasion. The soldiers all wore bronze armour with the Thrane family crest embossed on the metal. None of them realised that the owl sitting upon the tree was actually one of the attackers, and rather than worry about the fighting here, Phoebus went in search of Damselfly on his own. Delridden could not fly so he was forced to fight for every inch as his small group met a strong resistance from the household guards. The Peritwinkle was little use in tight areas as they fought up staircases and in narrow corridors.

“This is taking too long,” Delridden cursed.

“There is nothing more we can do,” the Matriarch replied. “I am not powerful enough to wave so many men aside.”

Delridden could see that their path was successfully blocked. It would take a miracle to get past so many vigilant defenders, and who knew what might happen to Damselfly in the meantime. Without a better option Delridden fought twice as hard, his sword seemed to be everywhere at once, and the castle guards were pushed back although they did not break. Tyten had been watching the conflict with satisfaction. His men were well ensconced and the invaders too few. The leader of his opposition refused to accept his situation and the heroic effort he was showing was encouraging his own forces to keep going. Tyten considered himself the greatest swordsman in Fable. He had sacrificed love, companionship and a family for his duty as Captain of the Guard. Now, standing before him was a real threat to his dominion, and no man could call Tyten a coward.

Passing through the lines of his own men, Tyten drew his blade and set his sights upon the opposition leader. Delridden glimpsed Tyten heading his way. The Captain of the Guard was dressed in gold armour with a helm that covered his face except for a pair of fierce blue eyes. Tyten’s long golden hair fell down his neck like a mane making him an intimidating figure. Delridden had fought many battles and he did not shy away from this latest challenge. Both warriors knew that the quickest route to victory was through each other. As the lines of fighters seemed to move aside, Tyten struck first bringing his sword down hard in a movement that would have slain Delridden had he not brought his own blade up to parry. For a brief moment the ’combatants’ eyes locked before Tyten drew back, feinted left and then struck right. His blade missed Delridden’s side by an inch and cut through his thin shawl before whirling back around like a striking snake and passing a hair’s breadth from Delridden’s throat.

“I have been training for this my entire life,” Tyten boasted.

Delridden was already breathing heavily. His opponent was obviously very skilled with superior footwork and heavy armour. To defeat such an adversary Delridden would need to be patient and cunning if he hoped to survive. As the duo once again came together with blades bared, they both heard a noise from behind them. Briefly distracted from their own personal duel, Delridden and Tyten witnessed a flood of castle residents rushing down the stairs to join in the battle. Led by Pilgrim the makeshift army fell on their protectors with whatever weapons they could find; Bullan the Master of Hounds carried a chain while Balius the Master of Horses wielded a bullwhip. The kitchen staff were well represented too; Swelter the Butcher charged into the fray with a cleaver raised high above his head while Skowl the Cook brought a carving knife, and Kale the Baker swiped at any soldiers with a pair of rolling pins. With his men facing challengers from both sides, Tyten