Gemini slumped to the ground, her horse form melting back to her human one. She gave a moan of exhaustion, and crumpled behind a bush. Elspeth tugged Gemini's clothes onto Gemini's uncooperative arms and legs, her eyes always flicking back to the late afternoon sun. She had been riding for nearly six hours as Gemini determinedly cantered nearly the entire way, bent on getting Elspeth to the battle, knowing that Elspeth could somehow help.
A horse's pounding hooves broke her reverie, and she leapt around, unsheathing Starflame. Charri clung to the horse's back; the horse was covered in lather from sweat. Charri slid awkwardly to the ground, and the horse immediately fell to drinking water as quickly as it could from a nearby stream, breathing heavily.
Charri looked over to Elspeth, her eyes shining her devotion to her friends, and guilt for having disobeyed them. "I couldn't be alone. I couldn't bear the fact that you and Gemini were going on ahead, alone. So, I pulled a Knight from his horse and got here as fast as I could. He wasn't expecting me, you see, and he was really tired. He deserved to take a rest anyway," she reasoned logically. Elspeth snorted. "And, well, I don't think Duke Baird is too happy with me coming, but tyah! Well, here I am," she said more or less cheerfully. She sobered quickly. "How how bad is it?" she asked hesitantly in a nasal tone. Elspeth motioned her to the peak of the hill, and Charri gasped.
The land was stripped barren of anything green; weeds and grasses had been trampled and dug into the ground. The ground itself was stained a deep red; men lay on the ground, broken spear points wedged into their backs. The dull roar of men shouting and the ground being blasted by spells hung in the air. Charri, heedless of the danger to her, rushed down the hill to the first man in Tortallan colors. A pirate saw her and rushed at her; she awkwardly ducked to the side and slashed his ribs. He went down, and struggled to get back up. She slashed his neck, missing the jugular, but her eyes were wide with fear and panic. Frantically trying to gather her wits, she fell to her knees at a man whose side had a bad wound. His breathing was choked, and listening to it rattle in his chest was painful to the ears. She shoved her healing magic into him, and his breathing eased. The blood slowed slightly, and then stopped, the clotting taking place.
Elspeth followed her friend, praying that Gemini would be safe. Up on the hill, she should be. She engaged the first man she could, and slashed his thighs with a cry. He went down.
She continued to protect Charri, not noticing the man who was nearing Charri while she healed. She had an advantage: the last thing a warrior was expecting was to fight a young girl who fought with a sword, a passion and a look of fierce determination. Charri's back was to a large boulder, and her attention was captivated by the man she struggled to heal.
"Charisma," the man who had slunk up beside her growled, his teeth bared in an evil grin. "We meet again." He slashed at Charri; she leapt back, stunned, but the tip of his sword cut cruelly into her left calf. Charri cried out in pain. "Would you like to know why I hate Jonathan so much?" The fury and hatred in Charri's eyes only made him speak more vehemently. "Because your beloved king thought he was helping me away from Carthak, but no. He wasn't there to help slaves. He never did anything for us. In fact, everything he says, everything he does, his very existence causes pain for my family, my friends, my wife and children in Carthak," he snarled, slashing at Charri again. This time she caught his blade on the right thigh. She cried out in pain as the man, Hakan, continued to talk. "Come to that, has he ever done anything for me? Has anyone ever done anything for me? Besides taking everything I loved? Well, you all will pay. You will pay for what you have done to me."
Fear shone out of Charri's eyes as she fell back from the madman. Her hair was lank and sweaty, falling about her face in indistinct curls. Her torn and bloody hands scrabbled behind her as she frantically tried to scoot backwards. It was no use. Hakan only neared, like the God of Death, waving the razor-sharp sword as he whispered promises of her death. Hakan's eyes danced madly as he held up his sword, blood dripping from the tip onto the already blood-soaked ground. He grinned evilly, and advanced on the wounded Healer. Charri breathed heavily, too panicked to think clearly. "Now you shall die, as so will the demons from Terra. And the rivers and streams will run as blood, throughout the land!" His eyes flashed as he lifted his sword above his head, raising it over Charri to deal the death blow. Tears ran down Charri's cheeks as she thought of her friends, her family, her king.
"I shall die, perhaps, but Jonathan shall live on! You cannot destroy this realm, not so long as there are those who are loyal to Jonathan! Only can you defeat him if there are none who support him and that day will never come!" Charri screamed defiantly. Her teeth were bared, her bright blue eyes streamed. She knew she would die, and that there was nothing she could do about it. As a last, clear thought, she wondered, Who heals the Healer? She backed up against the boulders, trapped, but she was far from willing to assist him in her murder.
Hakan was just swooping down his sword like a hawk about to kill a defenseless rabbit, when a shadow leapt from the boulder behind Charisma. It emitted a roar that made Charri wonder if that was what Liam, the Shang Dragon, must have sounded like. She blinked back her tears, and the shadow took form. It was not a shadow, but in fact a man. Over six feet in height, he was dressed in a silk black shirt and tight black, leather pants. Black boots protected his feet from the sharp rocks, and a black leather thong held back the dark brown hair that reached past his shoulders from interfering his perception. He leapt over the sword that Hakan had swept in a crazy slash at the man's ankles. He rolled, and whirled around, smashing the heel of his foot into Hakan's jaw in a move that could only be Shang in origin. Hakan roared, and threw himself at the man attacking him. The man staggered, and was thrown back against the rocks. He bit back a groan as his shirt molded to his back and shoulder in a way that could only have been created by blood, and long slashes in the fabric revealed the cause: torn skin that bled heavily. He staggered up again, pulling two daggers seemingly from nowhere. He bared his teeth, and slashed at Hakan, who stumbled backwards.
Hakan recovered and retaliated with his sword. His eyes were wide and crazy as he hacked randomly at the man confronting him. The man was holding his own, blocking and expertly attacking with his daggers when he could. That is, he was holding his own until a small fireball struck him on his left cheek. His head whipped back from the momentum of the fire, and he stumbled backwards. His face was badly burned, a third degree burn in most places. His hair was terribly singed, leaving it black and curly from the heat. Blood poured down his face from the skin broken by the fire. He stumbled back against the boulder beside Charisma. He turned to face her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help." He opened his eyes. His eyes were a coffee brown, clear and sensual, but filled with the pain that his face did not show. Charri wept, not only for herself, but also for the man she had just as good as killed herself. She stared rebelliously at Hakan, who fought against another soldier for the time being. Charri dragged herself over to the young man, ignoring the pain shooting through her calf and leg, and lay her hands gently on his face. She stared deep into his eyes as she shoved the last of her strength into healing him. Her strength failed half way through. He had minor burns throughout his face, and the ends of the burned hair dropped off, leaving the alive, healthy hair in place of the old ones. The gashes in his back stopped flowing, and began to clot. Charri fell into his arms, exhausted. He, equally so, merely held her, trying to comfort them both as Hakan killed the soldier he was fighting and once again advanced on them.
"Good bye, Charisma," he snarled, readying his sword for the kill. The man closed his eyes, and laid his lips on Charri's hair. He was ready for death, he told himself. But in truth, he wasn't. He was only eighteen. He hugged Charri to his chest, trying to cover her body with his own to protect her, even for a little while, from Hakan as he progressed on to them. The man sighed, and relaxed, every exhausted muscle in his body tranquil.
Suddenly, Hakan yelled. The man who had attacked him opened his eyes, startled. Hakan danced furiously, trying to leap away from the blonde youth who was magically flaming his feet, grinning maliciously. "Take that, you bastard! And that! And that!" She whooped, throwing another ball of flame at Hakan, lighting his pants on fire. Hakan yelped, and slapped at it, trying to put it out.
When he finally looked up, he looked for the blonde girl who had dared to throw fire at him. She was nowhere to be seen. He whirled on Charri, and stopped dead, Elspeth's dagger hilt-deep in his chest, just below his ribcage. Hakan choked, and he stared disbelievingly at Elspeth, blood rushing up to his mouth and trickling out slowly. "That was for Tortall, who will not be put at stake for the pleasures of the Satan country you serve. Go to the Black God's Realm, and damn you for what you almost did," whispered Elspeth vehemently, and let him drop from her dagger. She stood, staring coldly at him as she watched him die, ice in her eyes. Hakan's blood seeped into the red earth, his eyes blank.
She rushed to the bushes beside the rock, their branches blackened from fire and devoid of leaves. Elspeth emptied the contents of her stomach, too sick to bother to be quiet.
After a moment, she turned to Charri and the man beside her. "Charri?" whispered Elspeth, and she fell in a dead faint as men in Tortallan colors charged down the hill to engage the weary pirates.
* * *
Charisma sighed, and sat down beneath an enormous oak. She closed her eyes, thinking of the horrors of the past few days. How she had nearly been killed; once by a madman sorcerer, the other time by her best friend's friend. She lay back to daydream, stroking the soft flowers about her, and just letting everything go. She did this every day now, sometimes more than once. Just, everything was too confusing.
The forest was soothing; the huge branches of her oak held most of the hot sun at bay. Sunlight peeped through the canopy around her, giving the forest a bright, cheerful look. A small stream flowed nearby, past moss-covered rocks and a small, foraging rabbit. It had a sense of peace, totally unlike the blood-soaked earth of the battlefield not too far away. Blood tainted the air as men and women alike picked up bodies and debris, crying over their loss while tossing the bodies into wooden cars to be burned.
Charri was nearly asleep when she felt, rather than saw or heard, a presence drop silently down from a branch over head. Startled, she whipped out her dagger and held it between her and the intruder defiantly. The man raised an eyebrow, and held up both hands in a sign that he held no weapons. Charri let her arms fall, and sheathed her knife. The man smiled slightly.
"Are you okay?" He asked softly. "You don't look so good." Charri shook her head, and numbly went to sit by him. The man dropped down to sit with her.
"I remember you," replied Charri equally softly. "You were the guy who saved me from that insane bastard back there on the battlefield." The man raised his eyebrows higher, apparently rather startled by her use of language.
"Yeah, that was me," he said, recovering. "Or rather, I tried to save you." He shook his head in disgust. "I wasn't too much help." Charri smiled, and leaned back against the tree.
"On the contrary. Without you, I would be dead now. You stopped Hakan long enough for Elspeth to kill him."
"Elspeth, your friend, I assume, the little blonde hellcat? Where is she? I think I owe her a note of thanks, not to mention I want to know how she's doing."
Charri smiled slightly. "Here we are, carrying on normal conversation, and I don't even know who you are. What's your name?"
The man grinned. "Just call me Cael." Charri nodded.
"Well, Cael," she grinned. "Elspeth's doing fine. She's just never killed before, and is a little shocked by it." She sighed. "Neither have I. I'm actually not doing any better than Elspeth, I'm just hiding it better." She slumped into Caelan's arms, crying softly. Cael, startled, laid his arms around her, doing his best to comfort her. Finally, a few minutes later, Charri sat up, blushing slightly.
"Sorry, I'm a turd..." she began, but Caelan cut her off.
"Don't be. Everyone needs to let go like that, once in a while." He smiled slightly. "And I only had my dog when I killed my first person. You never forget it. Never. You remember every sound, every drop of blood that stains your hands." Cael lay back, long legs out in front of him as he rested back against the tree.
Charri curled up next to him, simply needing another human's touch. It was a basic, almost carnal need to want to be near him. She closed her eyes and, in the safety of Cael's arms, slept.
* * *
Life continued as more or less usual for the girls. The three stayed at Pirate's Swoop to gather shocked wits and to train. Charisma continued to see her friend, Cael, as their friendship deepened. Elspeth continued her lessons with the sword, Shang, shooting and horseback riding, becoming more and more adept. Gemini could shift on call, and was flying through the anatomy lessons of her marvelous book from the gods. Charisma could heal better then ever, and could stay off her own exhaustion to heal just one more person.
But, the storm grew worse. Gethra continued to attack, his numbers, while temporarily weakened, were growing strong once again. His armies attacked daily, and the Realm began to lose hope as small towns were slaughtered. Gethra no longer merely fought at the coast, but sent armies of his men to massacre the towns inside the country. Gethra's men patrolled the roads; cruel warriors who killed anyone they saw on sight. The Realm cried out as one for a hero; cries of women being raped, cries of men dying to protect their families, cries of children watching their homes burn, cries of abandoned babes left to die. Something needed to be done. |
