Snippet #1311931

Rancon didn't waste any time. The moment Thorwulf made it clear that he would provide a sufficient distraction for them to escape, the burly rebel grabbed the Prince's arm, pulling him towards the exit, looked over his shoulder to make sure Adela was following, and threw Saraf over his shoulder when the Black Prince attempted to pull out a set of knives to aid Thorwulf. The clashing of weapons and bodies behind him made it seem as if Thorwulf had conjured an entire army to fight in their stead; Rancon shook his head in brief wonderment before turning his attention back to the tunnels; he could see in the distance a door that led to the outside.

"Rancon, put me down!" Saraf wheezed, futilely pummeling at the man's back. "Thorwulf! I have to-"

"If you went back, Prince, then both of you would be lost. There is no hope of defeating the Death Bringers and escaping this cursed palace alive." Rancon's heart felt heavy as he said it, but it was the cold truth of the matter. "Thorwulf knew that. We'll just have to try and rescue him later."

Disappointed, Saraf accepted the truth in Rancon's words and stopped struggling. "Till all are one," he muttered softly, emerald eyes flashing towards the corridor where Thorwulf was still fighting, looking like two lamps in the darkness. We'll come back for you, Thorwulf. I promise.