Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 19

It was overwhelming. Black and horrible and justempty; a place where magic and life itself just didn't exist. Physicallycouldn'texist. What the hell was it? Amaranth gave Markus a look and nodded to the woods. "There."

"Go get Syches," he whispered.

Was he mad? "I can't leave you here-- you can't feel it like I do."

"You can't fight it like I can," he shot back.

"I'm not some weak--" she bit her tongue. This wasn't a damned show. "Come on, we'll both go. . ."

"You're kidding-- Look, just go get him." His smile was quick and reassuring but petulant all the same. They both knew he was right, he had more combat experience, but that didn't mean she was incapable. She couldn't loose face now, could she? Pride was one thing, but she had a child to think about now, too. Ammy grit her teeth and turned to collect the old bastard.

She jogged with lead-heavy feet, her heart punching its way into her throat with each breath; this could have been it, another chance to prove herself by putting steel to flesh. Maybe orcs- maybe lycans- maybe elves. Her mind reeled until she saddled up to the sergeant at arms. It took her a second to collect her voice. Gods, when had she gotten so out of shape? She used to be able to run for leagues. "Something's circling the camp."

"What? How do you know? What did you see?"

"Felt. There's something prowling out there--"

He scoffed. "Don't waste my time, girl. We have--"

"Ihave a sense beyond what you can comprehend. Bring a hand full of men, we're being probed." Ammy, having already heard enough of his bullshit jogged back to the other side of the camp with her sword drawn. Along the way she whispered for the men to go draw in around Richard's tent. Of course, they wouldn't, but if there was any chance, she had to try.

When she finally made it back to Markus with her breath short and ragged, she skittered to a stop, eyes darking back and forth. The sensation was gone. Not only was there no impending sense of doom, there was actually a remarkable sense of calm about the entire forest. Like it was holding its breath in preparation for something.

"Shit," she whispered.

"Well?" Markus eyed the darkness over the tip of his blade. "Where is it?"

"It's gone," Ammy took a step towards the ring of the forest. "It's not there."

Of course, it was at that moment that the sergeant of arms found them. He stepped right up beside the half-elven knight and surveyed the woods before speaking in a low voice. Clipped. Professional. "I see nothing, Dame. . ."

"It-- it's gone. It was here, but it's gone now. . . Maybe it heard us."

"Or maybe it wasn't anything at all. Maybe the woods are bringing out the fey in you--"

Markus shot him a look, "watch yourself." His voice was sharp, strong, angry even. Still caught in the heat from his sudden burst of anger, neither Ammy nor the sergeant had time to react as the man closed the distance, muttering in that same sharp tone. "I'm going to tell you this once and only once, she's apaladin. If she says she saw something, or felt something or whatever, she did. I've known her all my life and--"

"Stand down, knight-- you two," he said to his soldiers. "Scout the line, stay in sight." AS the soldiers started off to the woods he turned his attention to the knights. "What is it you felt, then? Hm? A dancing satyr frolicking around? Or, maybe, just maybe, you saw yourself a hunter like the black arrow clan. I bet it was the light they saw," he moved to reach for her pauldron and she juked to the side. "You don't belong out here, girl, you're going t'get someone killed."

Markus started only to trail off when Amaranth positioned herself between them.

"I know what I felt. It was-- . . . it was an absence of something. A hole in reality or something. We just need to be careful and--"

"My men will handle it. Go look after the Duke. At least that you should be able to handle."

"Has anyone ever told you that your attitude is about as pleasant as a badger tumbling down hill?" Amaranth glanced to the edge of the clearing once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was out there.

"We'llhandleit. You two have absolutely no idea what you're doing when it comes to real combat. You're barely done suckling off your mother's--"

"I'll go look for it, I can find it. I can sense it, Markus can track it."

"You'll get killed, not that I'd mind, but we have a trip to make and I've got people to look after. You're not dragging us all down with you--"

Amaranth, unable to refuse the challenge, piped up. "What's going to happen--" her voice died with the sharp stinging kiss of leather as the sergeant slapped her.

She didn't hesitate.

She attacked him. A heavy blow to his chest plate sent spears of pain up her arm and set herself up for a perfect follow through which he was happy to deliver. His wide fist crashed into her right eye socket like a hammer. The pain was joined quickly by absent shouting of men. Closer and closer.

The sergeant juked to the side and moved to grab her by the braid, trying to manuver his arm around her throat. Markus was behind her in an instant, though. He blocked the old bastard's attempt to get her in a bar, nailing him in the ribs with a knee and sending them both sprawling to the ground.

On the list of ways to handle a situation this definitely wasn't high on it, but it was too late for any of them; Ammy wasn't about to give up face when she was in the proverbial dirt and neither was he apparently. They tousled left and right trying to gain leverage on one another, she managed to get her weight situated to straddle him but the old man was slippery even in full plate and she soon found herself slamming into the dirt on her side.

There was no way she was going to let this happen. She couldn't. She'd fought too damn hard to earn her place and she wasn't about to let him take it-- Amaranth gritted her teeth and pivoted, pushing her weight to the side and outstretching one plate clad leg, nearly pulling full splits to leverage her weight from under him. She shoved off, hooked her leg around his upper body and arched backward in her armor, forcing his neck into a clamp between her thigh and calf. In the muted light she could see the surprise in his eyes. "Tap out!" She ordered.

Then it all went to hell when she heard Richard's thunderous voice split the cat calls and murmurs of the men who'd gathered around to watch the spectacle. "What thehelldo you two think you're doing?"

Still locked in against one another, neither one of them turned their attention to their ruler, intently focused on one another. "Tap out," Amaranth growled softly. "You were defeated by your better. Admit it."

Richard parted his soldiers easily. As his would-be defenders continued their altercation he closed the distance and, without even a shred of effort, grabbed Amaranth's leg and pried it from around the sergeant's neck, forcing her leg back almost to the point where she was about to do the splits. She tried to slip out from under the heavy man but it was no use and he soon landed another blow to her face, this one much closer to her slender nose.

Her head slammed into the mud sending a blur of stars across her vision. In the next moment, though, the weight on her chest lifted and Richard booted him off of her. She stared up at the sky for a moment before Richard let her go, his gaze squarely on her face as he addressed them all. "We're in hostile territory and I find my two brightest playing around in the dirt like weasels? What would my father have said?" He let go of Amaranth.

"But--" Marcus started.

"You. Marcus. . . You, I expected more of, too. We're more than half way there, you can keep it together until then, can't you?"

Silence.

"Can't you?"

"Yes my lord. . ." Syches was the first one to speak, followed by Markus's quiet affirmation. When his gaze settled on Amaranth there was a flicker of irritation that stung more than her swollen left eye.

He simply shook his head and turned to his tent. "Get some sleep. Take a fifty security rotation tonight. . . Markus, Amaranth. You two get some rest, too, I'll take your shifts."

"M- My lord, no."

"Don't argue with me," he looked back as he took a blade from the dining table. "It's clear I've been imposing more than my share. So, starting tonight, I'll take watch every third day. You two go get some sleep. . . Sergeant, you too."

"My lord-"

"Don't," he said as he held up his hand. "I'll not have those under me think me a tyrant or a coward. All of you not on watch, get some rest. We'll move out in the morning." With that, the young man wandered off to patrol, much to the chagrin of the soldiers. They weren't so chagrined, though, that they couldn't spend the time to help their leader up.

Markus helped her up while keeping an eye on the sergeant at arms, neither of them broke eye contact but Amaranth edged around to her tent, too tired and irritated to deal with the fallout of what had happened. She might have lost respect in the eyes of the men, maybe even Markus, but she couldn't just let that go unchallenged, could she?

As she slipped into her tent quietly, mildly surprised to hear Markus rustle in behind her a moment later. She furrowed her brow, half between telling him to leave and thankful that he was there. She decided it would be better if he was there and poked her head out to see if anyone had seen him. Richard was looking at her from near the food table.

His eyes flashed a soft orange when the light caught them. He turned away with his sword set on his shoulder lazily. . . What was that look he'd given her, though? There had to have been something to it, but something she couldn't discern. Something. . . Did he know about she and Markus?

She sighed. "Whatever. . ." The throbbing in her skull and eye socket gave her plenty of other things to worry about, she could mend things with him later when it was more appropriate or. . . Or she could-- She sighed again. She still needed to figure out who's child it was, either one of them could have been the father, after all.

Markus stepped up behind her and gave her a gentle hug. "C'mon, let's get that can off and get you cleaned up."

"N- No. I'll. . . I'll take care of it."

"Huh? Ammy, come on, I can--"

"It's fine. . . It's fine. I just need a bit to get my armor off and cleaned up." Markus frowned a little at her, but she slipped off to grab her basin and a towel, muttering to herself.

"I'll just go back to my tent, then--"

"No!" Amaranth cleared the distance between them, clutching his arm. "No. . . Please, I'm sorry, I'm just... Wound up."

"Heh. Yeah, look at you." He cupped her chin gently. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

For the first time in a long time, Amaranth felt the knot between her shoulders ease slightly. She wanted to believe in his acceptance, so much so that she touched his hand with a sad smile. Could he possibly deal with the idea of being a father? Might... possibly.. . Gods it was enough to drive someone to drink.

In lieu of a stiff drink, she wrapped her arms around the human man and sighed into his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Ammy. . ." He held her close. "I always will."

I hope so. . . gods do I hope so.

Amaranth awoke in the bathing in Markus's warmth with her chest pressed to his back, a steady trickle of early morning sunlight filtering in through the crack in the flaps. There was an eerie, pervasive silence and for just a moment she thought she might have been dreaming of her own private world.

That dream was shattered when the flap burst inward and a soldier carrying something the size of a kick ball filled her tent. He was shouting something. Angry, accusatory shouts that sounded leveled at her but Ammy could barely hear it. She was too focused on the kick ball sized thing. It was a human head.

A man's lifeless eyes gaped at her through a bloodied veil of his own hair. It was sergeant Syches's head.