The shock in his eyes that a woman could be a threat to him was priceless and it was like time slowed down as I saw my fifteen-year-old sister with a determined expression on her face. Squeezing the handle of the steak knife that he’d been naïve enough to lay in front of her, Wilma ripped it downwards with all her might. The long cut in King Jeremiah’s throat had him gasping and his hands couldn’t hold back the spurts of blood that made his light blue shirt red.
“My king!” The captain tipped his chair back to get to Jeremiah.
“Behind you!” The warning from Eli came too late as Marni got up and stabbed another steak knife into the side of the captain.
Chaos erupted as the guards ran to the table to pull back Marni, who kept stabbing the knife into the captain. Starr was helping her by holding the captain down until Eli tore her back with an angry roar.
With the guards storming forward, we did the same, Frederick kicking Eli, who had a hold on Starr, while I ran to Claire at the other end of the table.
“You’ve got to get the keys to the handcuffs. It’s in the captain’s pocket.”
Wilma had climbed onto the wooden table and was kicking at the soldiers who were trying to grab her by her legs. They had guns pointing at her but the idea of killing a woman was so alien to any Nman that I knew they wouldn’t fire their weapons.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Emmerson yelled and tackled one of them to the ground.
Jeremiah’s torso had collapsed, head down, on the table, a large pool of blood coloring the white tablecloth underneath him, but his eyes were open and blinking.
“I’ve got the keys,” Claire said close to my ear and in a few seconds, I had my hands free again. The room was in chaos and my sole priority was to secure the women’s safety.
“Get behind me,” I shouted to the women and pulled my mother away from the soldier she was screaming at to put down his gun. It was obvious that the men were unsure about how to tackle women attacking them physically and verbally when they’d been taught their whole lives never to touch a woman. The soldier in front of my mom turned his gun on me for about two seconds until Frederick stormed him from behind.
Claire had managed to uncuff my father, Lucas, and Henry, and was now working on freeing Emmerson’s hands. As soon as she did, Emmerson ran to the wall and pulled down an antique sword that hung as a decoration. With crazy eyes and a roar of anger, he stormed up to King Jeremiah and swung the large sword against the neck of the dying man.
Wilma, who was still on the table, jumped back but looked on with the same blood rush I’d seen in her eyes when Emmerson fought in her tournament.
The chaos and noise that had begun a few minutes ago ceased as we all stared at Emmerson decapitating King Jeremiah with the dull sword. When it was done, he fisted his hand into Jeremiah’s hair and lifted his head from the table.
“Your king is dead!” He held out the head to the soldiers and pointed to the floor in front of the table. “I call victory.”
For four hundred years we men had battled for control in the Northlands and it was tradition that killing a king would make you the new ruler.
“Butshekilled him,” one of the soldiers whispered to his colleague.
Wilma stepped down on a chair next to Emmerson and with a hand on her husband’s shoulder she challenged everyone in the room. “It’s true that I wounded the king, but it was my husband who killed him.”
Only the people in this room would ever know that the king would have died even if Emmerson hadn’t decapitated him.
Four of the soldiers were pointing their guns at Emmerson, Frederick, Lucas, and Henry but it was clear they were unsure of how to proceed now that King Jeremiah was dead and their captain had fallen to the floor in a pool of his own blood.
“Your king is dead! Lay down your weapons,” my father repeated and this time one of the soldiers lowered his gun and slowly kneeled. Like a set of dominos, the other soldiers followed while the king’s friends backed away.
“Not so fast!” I blocked their way and Lucas and Frederick were quick to form a wall with me. “Didn’t Jeremiah mention there were six spears out front?” I pointed to Jeremiah, “One.” My finger continued to the captain who lay lifeless on the floor. “Two.” My eyes came back to Eli, Carl, and Bruce, who were all pale when I counted. “Three, four, and five.”
“That sounds about right.” Lucas nodded.
“Detain these men!” Carl shouted to the soldiers in a last attempt at using his former power.
Emmerson roared at them. “Don’t you fucking dare! King Jeremiah was a disgusting human being and these men are rats for terrorizing innocent women. Each of you knows that what happened here was a disgrace to the Northlands.”
The soldiers exchanged glances and even if none of them verbalized it, it was clear that they agreed.
“I’m ordering you to put handcuffs on them, right now.”
The guards followed Emmerson’s order and placed Carl, Eli, and Bruce along the wall, where they were pushed to sit down.
My dad moved to the table and picked up a glass of water. “Before we leave this room, we should eat and drink. We might have to fight to convince a few that Emmerson is the rightful ruler now.”
Emmerson reached up his hands to Wilma, who let herself fall into his arms and wrapped her hands around his neck. “Did you see it?”
