Chosen : Assassin Book 1

Chosen - Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Two

Vincenzo leaped onto the table, sword drawn. Agnolo would not be able to hold him back this time.

"I will end you!" he shouted, leaping toward me.

"I wouldn't if I were you, Vincenzo."

The younger man did not head his brothers warning. He stood before me, so much more massive than he appeared behind the table. I squared off against him prepared to duel.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Lady Joselyn?" he asked.

"Yes. Are you prepared to die?" he asked.

"Let's finish this."

"It's only the beginning."

"No, this is the end of the line. The final round." I loathed the fact I had to destroy those who had given me so much.

The room suddenly filled with onlookers. I assumed they were all watchers of varying degrees. The only person I need to focus on was my ruthless opponent, who stood opposite me. His blade glinting in the waning light of the setting sun. I knew what I did was insane. His broadsword gleamed as though it were new. Not a drop of blood could be seen. Mine though dripped with the blood of another. I made eye contact with my aggressor, who seemed to smirk knowing I couldn't look away, he oozed confidence. I, on the other hand, screamed with terror on the inside.

"Now, now my lovelies. You will do this the right way. No sneaking up on one another. Once I move you may begin." Agnolo stepped back and waved his arms.

The watchers' who gathered in the room took a few steps back. Vincenzo swung the blade around before letting it drop to the ground, dragging it beside him as he ran toward me. The steel on stone sent sparks up around him. He looked like a demon sent from the depths of hell. We locked eyes once again; the evil that pierced his very soul bore into me. He advanced on me, swinging the sword up. I dodged to the side, the tip of his steel barely missing my midsection. Vincenzo swung again, bringing the sword down over his head. I quickly raised my own, blocking the attack. The weight behind his swing sent me to the ground on my knees. I grunted and attempted to push back. He was entirely too powerful. My palms sweated, and hilt slipped. Vincenzo's sword caught my midsection as it slid past my body. I could feel the coldness barely graze my skin. No blood though. The sudden freedom of his blade caused Vincenzo to stumble, giving me enough time to roll out of the way and climb to my feet. I sent a barrage of attacks on him, pushing toward the wall. Each missing his body and clanging with his sword. The final swing though managed to catch the fabric of his shirt, ripping it slightly. He stumbled, swinging his blade wildly in a feeble attempt to harm me. He smirked once again. That awful smirk made me mad. So unbelievably mad.

He stood once again, charging at me. He swung the sword over and over. I blocked one hit after the other. The sound of metal on metal clanging throughout the chamber. As he slowed I took the opportunity to dodge and duck to the left. He tripped and stumbled. As he turned I spun about and swung the sword low. It cut through his midsection like butter. Vincenzo dropped to his knee, holding the wound. He attempted to stand, wobbling as he used the sword as a crutch. His grip slipped, and he fell to the ground, a pool of blood forming below him. His breathing was staggered and shallow. I brought the sword above my head and brought it down on his neck, the sickening feeling of bone-breaking vibrating through my steel into my fingertips. I grimaced and released my weapon, dropping to my eyes in body shuddering sobs.

"Fantastic! You've won!" Agnolo shouted, clapping his hands as he jumped from the desk.

"He was our brother," Berard said, standing from the desk.

"Oh, pish posh. He was a hot-tempered lad. Something was bound to cause him to meet his fate sooner or later. Wasn't it quite magnificent watching this ray of sun work?" He looked from me to Berard.