The cultist's nose shattered in a spray of visceral blood, Torm pivoting on his foot and cutting off a woman's head at the base of the neck, her face a perpetual parody of ecstasy as her head bounced onto the castle floor. The minstrel had a good view of the Knight scything through them like wheat, looking only partially injured from the myriad of blows the desperate thralls attempted upon him. Other than a bruise under his armor and a gash across his forehead, Torm looked and felt as hale as ever. But the servants of this ruinous power had to be dozens upon dozens, and it was only when Lycurgus burst through their lines and broke the circle around him that he felt he might make it out alive. To his relief he saw the woman atop the beast, trying her best to hold on, having given up on giving his steed orders. Surprisingly a knife appeared in her hand and she slashed a man who reached for across the face, causing him to stumble back. 

Torm didn't delay, mounting his horse in front of her. Knowing his master's wishes, Lycurgus spun, knocking aside various occultists surging in with insane fury, the press of bodies like a single, living entity. Torm impressively held his longsword in one hand, stabbing and pull cutting as he spurred Lycurgus forward half a dozen feet. 

"What are you doing!?" Julliette yelled, seeing them wading further in rather than making a run for it.

"We have to kill the fiend!" The Knight exclaimed, wincing as someone cut into his leg with a butcher knife. The thrall took a pommel to the head for his efforts, causing his body to fall limply under the tide of his fellows. To better pave their way, Lycurgus whinnied and lifted the fore of his powerful body upwards, causing the minstrel to cling to Torm. Her mouth was very close to his ear when she exclaimed- 

"We need to get the devil out of here! You're a bloody knight, save me!" She screeched. 

Her words and the very real possibility that his failure might result in her death too gave him pause. Somehow he didn't feel she was the damsel in distress type, but anyone unwittingly facing death in the face would be a bit hysterical. He had come prepared to fight, whereas she had simply been under the accursed one's dominion, seeing a chance to escape when he arrived. 

With a growl of frustration, he spun Lycurgus around once again. At the corner of his eye, he saw a rope being flung at their direction. On instinct, Torm shoved his forearm in the way, the rope entwining loosely around his hand. When he felt the rope go taut, he simply yanked on it and sent Lycurgus charging. The woman placed both her hands on Torm's head and turned it forward, causing the Knight to see the large doors closing before them. He felt a cold dread in his throat, quelling it when he kicked Lycurgus into action. The horse brayed and charged, lowering its head as if Torm expected the steed to burst through the thick oaken doors. They might be able to if they wished to break most of the bones in their bodies, but that wasn't a favorable prospect to anyone. 

As the gateway swung closer and closer to closing, the minstrel tossed her last dispensable knife at one of the gaps beside the door hinges, slowing it just enough for the two of them and Lycrugus to burst into the torrent of wind and rain, nearly sliding and breaking their bodies as Lycurgus did his best not to slip along the wet stairway leading into the court yard, keeping balance just by making a desperate leap. Torm felt the rope he had go lax, glancing to see no one holding onto it as the doors closed with the finality of the gates of hell. 
[@Penny]