The first templar came through the broken doorway with his broadsword already raised.
I did not wait.
I slammed into him shoulder-first.
The Iron Body took the impact.
My dagger went up under his chin before he could bring the blade down.
Hot blood hit my face.
I shoved his falling body into the man behind him.
Both went down in a tangle of armor.
Silas started shouting from the back of the hall.
The remaining four spread out.
They were trained.
Two tried to circle.
One swung low at my legs.
I dropped and drove the dagger into the side of his knee.
He screamed and fell.
I hit him hard in the temple with the pommel and he stopped moving.
"Behind you!"
Seraphina’s voice came from the office doorway, rough but clear.
I threw myself sideways. A heavy sword sparked off the stone where I had been. The man who swung it kicked me in the chest. I hit the old table hard. Air left my lungs. The Iron Body kept the rib from breaking again.
He raised the sword for the killing blow.
Another templar grabbed for my arms.
I kicked the second man’s shin, grabbed a heavy iron candelabra from the floor, and swung it into the first man’s face.
Bone cracked.
He dropped the sword.
I took it and cut him down.
The last two were already backing toward the door. One tried to run. I caught him. The final man dropped his weapon and raised his hands. I did not give him the chance.
Silence fell over the hall. Only the rain and my own breathing.
Six templars lay on the stone. Blood spread under the silver armor.
Silas was already outside. He climbed onto a black horse near the burned carriages and spurred it hard. His red robes snapped in the wind.
"You are a dead man, Voss!" he shouted over his shoulder. "The Cardinal will hear of this!"
I did not chase him. My arms felt heavy. The temporary strength was gone. Every cut and bruise from the last two days sat on me at once. My hands were shaking.
I dropped the broadsword in the mud and walked back inside. I stepped over the bodies and closed the office door behind me. The heavy wood shut out the smell of blood for a moment.
Isolde sat rigid in the chair, knuckles white on the armrests. Her unseeing eyes were fixed on the space where the door had been. Seraphina lay against the wall, eyes locked on the blood drying on my skin and clothes.
"He’s gone," I said. My voice sounded rough. "The templars are dead."
Isolde’s breathing was uneven.
"I heard the glass shatter. I heard what he offered you. I heard what the purple liquid was for."
I walked to the bucket, filled the tin cup, and drank. The cold water cut through the taste of blood in my mouth.
"Why didn’t you take it?" she asked. The words came out hard. "You could have gone back to the capital. Titles. Protection. Everything they took from you."
"I don’t take leashes," I said. "And I don’t feed that kind of poison to anyone."
She gave a short, bitter laugh. "You expect me to believe you grew a conscience overnight? You just killed six men in the hall."
"I killed six men who came to take you and the princess by force. That is not the same thing."
Isolde turned her face toward the sound of my voice. She still did not believe me. In the world she had been raised in, every kindness had a price waiting behind it. Free help did not exist.
Seraphina spoke for the first time since the fight.
"I warned you because if you died they would have dragged me back to Alaric. I would rather stay in this ruin than return to that man’s cage."
Her golden eyes stayed on me. The hate was still there, bright and sharp, but under it sat something colder - calculation. She was measuring the man who had just refused the Church in front of her.
I sat down against the wall. My shoulder ached. The cuts on my arms stung. The fire had burned low and the room felt colder again. Outside, the rain kept falling on the locked gates and the empty road beyond them.
Silas would reach the Cardinal before night. More men would come. The Church now knew the leash had been refused in blood.
I looked at the two women in the dim firelight. Isolde still gripping the chair like it was the only solid thing left. Seraphina still watching me as if she expected the next betrayal to arrive any moment.
We were still alive. That was all we had for now.
I walked back out into the ruined entry hall.
The six templars lay still across the cold flagstones.
I knelt beside the captain’s body, checking his leather belt and pouches.
I found a full water skin, three rolls of dry linen bandages, a pouch of hard travel bread, and two small flint strikers.
I unbuckled his sword belt, taking a clean steel shortsword and two balanced iron daggers.
I carried the weapons and supplies back into the small office and set them on the wooden desk.
"Take this," I said, handing one of the iron daggers to Isolde.
She reached out, her fingers finding the leather-wrapped grip by touch.
She tested the balance in her hand, sliding the blade into the inner fold of her belt.
"I know how to cut," Isolde murmured, her voice quiet. "My uncle made sure I learned before they took my eyes."
"Good," I said. "Keep it close."
I turned to Seraphina.
I checked the thick leather straps securing her to the wooden chair, tightening the buckles so her torso would not shift when I lifted her.
Her sharp amber eyes watched my hands as I worked.
"Silas took a fast horse," Seraphina said, her breathing steady now. "He will reach the Cardinal’s garrison by nightfall. If we stay on the main road, their cavalry will run us down before dawn."
"We aren’t taking the main road," I told her, slinging the supply sack over my shoulder. "We’re cutting north into the mountain pass."
Isolde stood up from the chair, resting one hand on the edge of the desk.
"The northern pass is rough stone and cold wind," she said. "No horses can run through there."
"Then that is where we go," I said, stepping behind Seraphina’s chair and lifting the wooden frame.
The rain beat hard against the broken roof as we prepared to step into the dark woods.