Drestakil
Drestakil dreamed. He dreamed he was in Marseilles, in the south of France. He had tracked Daffney to a small Inn on the waterfront. The sun was shining down on the blue water of the Mediterranean, the odors of the harbor filling his nostrils. Dres mounted the stairs on the outside of the building and found Daffney's room. He entered soundlessly after shading his eyes to get them used to the dark of the room after being out in the sunshine. Dres could hear Daffney in another room and moved toward the door. Just as he reached it, the door slammed against him and knocked him to the floor. He felt something rush past his head and, not even thinking, reached out and grabbed what turned out to be Daffney's ankle. Daffney fell prone to the floor and Dres scrambled to his feet as Daffney flipped over on his back.
Drestakil reached back and pulled his sword over his shoulder, pressing the point against Daffney's middle. "Where is she?" Dres said through clenched teeth. "I don't know," Daffney said sullenly, eyes darting from side to side. Dres pressed the tip of his sword into Daffney's stomach...Daffney stopped moving. "I swear I don't know what you're talking about!"
Drestakil began to lean on the sword. Daffney screamed in pain. "Where is she? This is your last chance."
Daffney fixed his eyes on Dres's eyes, "She's dead! She's dead!" he screamed. "It was an accident. She tried to escape and the little guy loosed a bolt before I could stop him."
Drestakil leaned back. Dead? Elizabeth? No, it can't be....it can't be! Drestakil's thoughts whirled, his memories taking him back....she can't be dead. Sweet, wonderful, beautiful Elizabeth.
Daffney grabbed his sword and lashed out. Dres was in such shock he didn't even try to block the swipe. He felt a searing, burning pain in his stomach...looked down and saw the edges of a gaping wound, blood starting to run. Drestakil then experienced something he had only read of...a towering rage. Daffney tried to bring his sword back for another swipe, but Dres blocked the blow and beat Daffney's blade out of his hand. Daffney quickly scrambled to his feet, tried to grab for his sword, watched his hand fall to the floor when Dres stroked down.
Dres's sword flew up and around, slicing Daffney's throat, cutting his scream short. Daffney fell to his knees, holding the stump of his arm against him. Dres walked beside him, raised his sword and chopped down once. Daffney's body fell sideways as his head rolled over against the wall.
Drestakil stumbled over to the bed and ripped the sheet off it, wrapped it around his midsection and staggered outside. He fell down the stairs, staggered erect at the bottom, and lurched down the street. Dres fell against the wall and slid down it, fell to the side, and closed his eyes.
His next memories were of being nursed back to health by an older couple who sold him to a galley captain. Drestakil bent his back to the oar for a year, managed to escape and made his way to Egypt. From there he traveled from one place to another, working and learning. Over the years the dull ache of knowing his wife was dead faded. The day came when, with a shock, he found he couldn't remember her face.
He was sitting in a tea house in a small town on the China coast. Dres had been staying in the town for some time now, learning the art of the sword from a local instructor. "Roundeyes" they called him. Well, Roundeyes was saying goodbye to his friends. It was time to make his way back to England.
The dream ended and a red haze filled his eyes...Dres struggled to open the heavy weight of his eyelids. Slowly they lifted and he saw his brother, Viceroy, looking over his shoulder and talking to someone. His mouth moved, but Dres couldn't hear words. He saw Kenna and Ladygina talking. Kenna looked to be in a daze. His eyelids grew too heavy to hold up and he fell asleep again.
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Drestakil reached back and pulled his sword over his shoulder, pressing the point against Daffney's middle. "Where is she?" Dres said through clenched teeth. "I don't know," Daffney said sullenly, eyes darting from side to side. Dres pressed the tip of his sword into Daffney's stomach...Daffney stopped moving. "I swear I don't know what you're talking about!"
Drestakil began to lean on the sword. Daffney screamed in pain. "Where is she? This is your last chance."
Daffney fixed his eyes on Dres's eyes, "She's dead! She's dead!" he screamed. "It was an accident. She tried to escape and the little guy loosed a bolt before I could stop him."
Drestakil leaned back. Dead? Elizabeth? No, it can't be....it can't be! Drestakil's thoughts whirled, his memories taking him back....she can't be dead. Sweet, wonderful, beautiful Elizabeth.
Daffney grabbed his sword and lashed out. Dres was in such shock he didn't even try to block the swipe. He felt a searing, burning pain in his stomach...looked down and saw the edges of a gaping wound, blood starting to run. Drestakil then experienced something he had only read of...a towering rage. Daffney tried to bring his sword back for another swipe, but Dres blocked the blow and beat Daffney's blade out of his hand. Daffney quickly scrambled to his feet, tried to grab for his sword, watched his hand fall to the floor when Dres stroked down.
Dres's sword flew up and around, slicing Daffney's throat, cutting his scream short. Daffney fell to his knees, holding the stump of his arm against him. Dres walked beside him, raised his sword and chopped down once. Daffney's body fell sideways as his head rolled over against the wall.
Drestakil stumbled over to the bed and ripped the sheet off it, wrapped it around his midsection and staggered outside. He fell down the stairs, staggered erect at the bottom, and lurched down the street. Dres fell against the wall and slid down it, fell to the side, and closed his eyes.
His next memories were of being nursed back to health by an older couple who sold him to a galley captain. Drestakil bent his back to the oar for a year, managed to escape and made his way to Egypt. From there he traveled from one place to another, working and learning. Over the years the dull ache of knowing his wife was dead faded. The day came when, with a shock, he found he couldn't remember her face.
He was sitting in a tea house in a small town on the China coast. Dres had been staying in the town for some time now, learning the art of the sword from a local instructor. "Roundeyes" they called him. Well, Roundeyes was saying goodbye to his friends. It was time to make his way back to England.
The dream ended and a red haze filled his eyes...Dres struggled to open the heavy weight of his eyelids. Slowly they lifted and he saw his brother, Viceroy, looking over his shoulder and talking to someone. His mouth moved, but Dres couldn't hear words. He saw Kenna and Ladygina talking. Kenna looked to be in a daze. His eyelids grew too heavy to hold up and he fell asleep again.
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