Bowman Part 10

Atnem kneeled with his head bowed. He was in a throne room. King Lug Lamfhota stood before him. Hibernia’s throne room? How did he get here?
King Lamfhota spoke, “They have underestimated us this far. All according to plan. Soon, we shall rise in power. They will be overwhelmed by our force. Midgard seems a bit occupied in Albion at the moment. We shall begin there. They won’t know what hit them.”
“Rise, my son. For we must prepare for the battles ahead. Rally the soldiers and gather at Druim Ligen. We shall head for the docks and attack by water.”
Atnem didn’t know what was going on. He stood, and looked up at Lug Lamfhota. He became dizzy and fainted. When he awoke, he was in his bed at the Inn.
Another dream, but it seemed so real. He had to tell Oraia. He got out of bed and threw on his cloak. Then he ran to the tavern.
He reached up to knock on the door, but was surprised to see that it was already open a crack. “Strange, nobody leaves their doors unlocked with all the bandits around.”
He walked in and headed to the back. The trap door was open. Atnem was worried now. He jumped down, not bothering to use the ladder, and ran down the corridor. The candles were all extinguished, so it was dark. When he came to the big room, he stopped and stared around.
Books were thrown from their shelves and laid scattered on the ground. The table in the middle of the room was tipped over. The crystal ball had rolled across the floor to a toppled bookcase. The tunnel was exposed.
Atnem heard someone moaning in the room. He looked down and saw Ferov lying on the ground.
“Ferov! What happened?” He kneeled down by Ferov and did his best to bandage his wounds.
“Assassins. They’re after Oraia. Two of ‘em. They chased her through the tunnel after they knocked me out in the dark. I couldn’t see who they were. Go help her!”
“You sure you’ll be okay alone?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just go. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Atnem nodded, then ran down the tunnel. Hopefully he could save her. If it was too late.. He shuddered at the thought. He drew his sword and ran through the darkness, never slowing.
He emerged from the tunnel into the field. There was a trail of blood. Someone had been hurt badly. He followed the trail across the field. Just ahead, in a grove of trees, he heard voices. He readied his bow and peeked around a tree. There were two figures in black walking toward Oraia and a wolf. The wolf was crouched in front of her growling at the assassins, ready to attack. Oraia must have charmed it. She was a Sorceress, after all.
The wolf lunged at one assassin. Atnem fired his arrow at the other. He charged the assassin and drew his sword. “Oraia! I’m here.”
He swung at the assassin, but he was dodged. The assassin hit Atnem with the blunt side of his dagger, and he stumbled forward. Quickly he turned around, just in time to block the next attack.
Atnem took this time to study his attacker in the moon light. His hood was up, shadowing his face. He held two blades, an axe in his right hand and a dagger in his left. Tall, at least six and a half feet. The other assassin was short, but well-built. There was an emblem on their gloves. It looked familiar. Where had he seen it before?
Atnem threw another blow toward the assassin. The attack was evaded again. He watched the assassin’s movements carefully. Somehow, they seemed familiar, as if he’d seen them used in combat before. But that was impossible. He’d never seen these assassins before, had he?