I am posting Daenerys’s tributes at FB https://www.facebook.com/leila.mehdi.12935 all they long… read this chapter. It was written in 2006… before the show and this is not The Game of Thrones. It is finished in 2014
But, my Mathilde is slightly different than Daenerys…
‘You should have killed me first, then give a speech,’ Sleeping Mathilde, an excerpt
Undead Mathilde takes over the Hasse Castle, north of Vasteras
‘I know all the guards Orian ever spoke to. You were not among them. You did not follow a single command I issued. I know what you did with the trenches. You buried them, and in them, you’ve buried the bodies of my many loyal guards. You brought your own men. Do you think I am unaware of the dagger at my throat and that the tower guards’ arrows aiming at me, or of the gate being unlocked? I wonder who dragged you here to begin with.’
‘Almric, Olof’s brother.’ He smiled and lunged at her with a dagger.
She grabbed the sharp end with her hand, confusing him for a moment, then giving him a powerful knee kick to the crotch.
The guards pulled out their arrows and tightened their bows.
‘Stop…’ Tamson gurgled, but I could no longer hear him, for I went numb out of fear for our fates.
At that moment, from the highest point of a tower, an arrow pierced the rebel’s leg, and then the other went into his palm. The mistress grabbed him and blood covered her long, white fingers. ‘Almric, you say?’
Dark shadows were dancing on her face, while the guards were returning the arrows to their quivers.
‘Are they dead as well?’ Tamson asked. His confused look was aimed at the archers, many of which, as he knew, were hidden in the deepest parts of the tower. It was the last line of defence, therefore it had to have been heavily guarded. ‘Where are my men? Maybe in that trench, you mentioned?’
Mathilde burst out laughing.
‘Give me my sword back, you damn Norrbotten witch!’
The shivers that had overcome his body up until that point were gone completely, which she noticed and whispered ‘Almric…’ anew, adding ‘I can understand that. I would have done the same myself. Raise an army of monsters and crush Amerongen, bathe in his blood under the light of the pregnant moon. But where is the wretch now? There he is chanting to himself in the solars begging the serfs to ride him. There are no living here, not anymore.’ To this, I, Jonas Sverker, quivered in fear, but Mathilde had already sent away the guards that wanted to shackle Tamson. There was a tumult in the air from all the rage. Tamson looked at their faces, but they were cloaked. ‘This is your army?’ He laughed. ‘Yeomen whose blood you drank?’
‘How poignant.’ She laughed and tossed him a two-handed sword. ‘I like your courage. What else can you do besides being brave? Since you cannot fight, which we’ve established during regular training.’ She turned her back to him, giving him the chance to cut her down. ‘I can hear the trotting of feet moving to the gates. The monster is here, to lay the beast to rest.’ She spoke without rhyme or reason.
Tamson stood on his shaky feet, the sword in his hand equally as shaky.
‘You wear the robes of Amerongen, giving out the same commands he would, drink blood far more greedily and suck the life out of Norrbotten more rammishly and passionately than he ever could…You are Amerongen. Your soul is rotten, words vile, innocent blood rests on your hands!’ He shouted, swinging his sword to Mathilde. She swiftly turned and he landed on the sharp end of her blade, his heart pierced.
‘You should have killed me first, then give a speech,’ she said, wiping the sword on Abaddon’s back. She turned to the guards….
Copyright ©Leila Samarrai Mehdi 2014®
* No part of this novel may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author.*