There and Back Again Ch. 174

Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four: As the Crow Flies

The door that led to the cabins swung part way open, and I raised my knife with a curse. Dera was behind me, kneeling, and I had intended to tie her up and leave her there while I went looking for more assassins. But to my knowledge, the assassins were all behind the door that had just opened.

I heard Dera scramble behind me, and couldn't decide where to point my attention. I was focused on the door, and there were almost certainly Crows down the hallway in front of me -- but was I leaving my back open to another assassin, a traitor? I had gotten the impression she wasn't a willing accomplice, but that didn't mean she wouldn't stab me in the back given half the chance.

I was relieved, then, when she stepped up beside me. She'd taken the sword from my fallen bodyguard, and was holding it in front of her as though to protect me. I spared her a momentary glance and saw a determined expression even through the tears that tracked down her cheek. "I won't let them hurt you," she solemnly declared.

I sighed. I'll deal with this later. I had Crows to fight first.

I looked back at the door; the shape of a head with broad shoulders appeared in the opening. Blinded by the light, I didn't at first recognise it; I had to wait until I heard a familiar gasp to realise who I was looking at. I reached forward and grabbed the man's arm, dragging him out and letting the door swing shut behind him.

"Fergus!" I whispered furiously. I didn't even notice I'd used his first name -- something I'd never done to his face before.

"In Andraste's name, what is going on here, Sierra? Are those bodies?" He spoke too loud, and I hurried to shush him.

"Shut up! We're being attacked by Crows. You didn't see anyone in the hallway?"

I couldn't see his face, but I could picture his panicked, puzzled expression based on his tone alone. "Crows? What? Did you kill these people?"

He was still shouting, and I slapped my hand over his mouth. "Are you trying to get killed? Yes, Crows. That man," I pointed at the Crow whose throat I'd slit, "killed them and came after me. I heard him say that there were others going after you, Aedan, Alistair, and Zevran. Did you see anyone in the hallway?"

I pulled him back so that I could just make out his face in the dim light from the door, which had stayed open just a little. Fergus' eyes were wide and suddenly fearful, and I saw the gravity of the situation hit him as his mouth dropped open and he turned his head rapidly, staring back and forth between the bodies cooling at my feet and my face. "Fergus!" I shook his arm until he focused on me.

"Y-yes, there were four men in the hallway. I assumed they were your husband's guards? They ignored me." He gasped a breath as he thought about it. "I don't understand."

I don't have time for this. I turned to Dera. "How many?"

"I don't know, my Lady. I only knew Mateo. Please believe me, I wouldn't—"

"No time!" I hissed. I thought furiously for a minute. I grabbed the elf's arm and shoved her in front of me, and then dragged a limping Fergus behind me as I headed to my little nest. "Your Grace, up and over. There's a space on the far side of this rope -- you two are going to stay there until I come back for you."

He tried to resist, even as I chivvied and shoved him up the rope. His bad leg was clearly bothering him, because he moved it awkwardly as he climbed. "Stop, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"Saving your life," I muttered. "You have no weapon, no armour, and you can barely walk right now. I can't deal with this if I also have to protect you. The Teyrn of Highever isn't dying on my watch." Nor my brother. I didn't say it out loud, because in that moment it was painfully clear to me that whether I was Elissa Cousland or not, I still loved the jerk who insisted on treating me like garbage.

"You don't have armour either, and one dagger isn't going to get you far."

I smirked as I continued shoving Fergus over the ropes. "I do, in fact, have armour." I lifted the hem of my shirt, allowing the dim light to reflect off the chain lining. "And Alistair thought I wouldn't need armoured clothing. Now stay there, your Grace. I mean it. I'll be back."

I turned to Dera. "You will protect him with your life, you hear me? If he comes to harm, you'll wish you died first, understood?" I must have looked terrifying, because Dera suddenly looked like she was about to wet herself.

"I want to help you. You can't—"

"If you want to help, keep the Teyrn alive. I don't know how they let him escape, but I imagine they'll be back when they realise their mistake. He must be kept safe. Do as I say!"

I waited just long enough for both of them to disappear behind the ropes, before turning back to the hallway where the rest of the Crows waited. I was somewhat surprised Fergus had cooperated as well as he had, but I didn't have time to think about it. I had one brother safe, but the other one -- not to mention his lover and my husband -- weren't.

When I got back to the door, I peeked through, relieved to see no one waiting in the short hallway within line of sight. I eased the door open and crept through, not bothering to close it behind me in case it made noise and alerted anyone. As quietly as I could manage, I tiptoed down the hall until I reached the T-intersection. My room, and Aedan's, were to the left; Fergus' was off to the right, I knew, but that mattered less since I knew he wasn't inside. I got as close to the corner as I could and then crouched down, hoping that if I leaned forward to peek down the hall, I'd be less likely to be noticed at that height.

I didn't get the chance. Before I could look, I heard a thump, a shout, and a muffled oath, and I knew I was out of time. I sprang to my feet and came around the corner at a run. There was a body on the floor in the hall, wearing a tabard I recognised -- Alistair's guard. Aedan's door was open, and there was an impatient stranger standing in the doorway, two daggers in his hands, looking like he was trying to push his way inside. From the sounds of fighting I could hear, someone else had already gone in, and was in combat with my brother, or Zevran -- or perhaps both. I couldn't even guess how awkward fighting would be in such a cramped space.

I cried out and dashed forward, driving the knife I held at the back of the man in Aedan's doorway. His armour turned my blade, and he spun as he shouted in surprise. Before I knew it, I was in the hallway, virtually dueling with an Antivan Crow. He slashed at my face and I countered with my awkward knife; his other dagger tried to cut along my ribs, but the chain underneath the fabric of my shirt saved me. He gaped in surprise, and I managed to get a lucky hit on his forearm that made him drop one dagger.

I couldn't see what was happening inside Aedan's room, had no idea if anyone had attacked my husband in the room behind me, but I couldn't stop to worry about it. I was fighting for my life, and the Crow I was facing was better with a blade than I was. Despite one injured arm, blood dripping off his fingers, the dark-haired assassin grinned at me, his teeth yellow and stained.

"You want to play, bruja?" he taunted, taking one step back before slashing at me again. His accent, so charming out of Zevran's mouth, sounded obscene. "We may be here for your lives, but no one said we can't have a good time first, yes? Put down the knife and I'll go easy on you, gatita."

I heard shouting from Aedan's room, though whether in response to their own fight or outrage at this man's threats, I couldn't be sure. I ignored it -- being insulted in a language I didn't even understand didn't faze me, and I certainly wasn't going to allow threats of rape to unravel me. Like this is the first time. Honestly. I slashed again, clumsily, with my borrowed knife.

As we fought, me desperately defending against the much more talented rogue, I was forced back step by inexorable step. I just wasn't good enough to hold my ground. I was still trying -- but I was losing. My breath came in desperate gulps and sweat coursed down my forehead as I struggled not to fall. After what felt like an eternity, my brother appeared in the doorway to his room. He was nearly naked, obviously having been woken from sleep in just his smalls, and his chest was splattered with blood -- whether his or someone else's, I couldn't tell. He croaked out something unintelligible, wiping blood out of his eyes with his forearm and only succeeding at smearing it around even further. His steps were unsteady, but his expression determined as he raised an unfamiliar dagger and stepped up behind the Crow I was barely holding off.

I suddenly heard a door opening behind me, and my heart stuttered, caught between hope and fear. Unless my calculations were way off, it was my door -- the one I shared with my husband.

Was it Alistair, coming out to save me?

Or was it another Crow, finished killing the unsuspecting man I'd left alone in bed?

I couldn't risk a look, until I saw Aedan's dagger sink into the back of the Crow facing me. I spun, heart hammering in my chest, just in time to see a sword descending towards me -- and my husband, wearing only a pair of loose trousers, step into its path with a roar, nothing more than his bare arm to defend himself with.

The world seemed to stop as I watched the blade pierce through the bare skin of my husband's chest. He staggered back towards me as it dragged further down, across his abdomen before pulling out. Alistair gurgled something, his hands lifting to cover the gaping wound desperately as he fell backwards. I didn't even really notice as the man who'd struck him fell with a throwing knife embedded in his throat, didn't hear as Aedan finished off the Crow who'd almost bested me, didn't pay attention as Zevran cleared the rest of the halls, confirming that it was over, and the Crows all dead.

All I could do was grab my husband under the arms, slowing his descent and sinking to the ground with him in my arms. His face was pale -- too pale, his beautiful eyes looking huge and dark against his ghostly skin -- except for where he bled, a great gash starting at his forehead and curving down around his temple to end just under his ear. Blood welled from between his fingers, and I couldn't help but worry that if he let go, I'd be watching his insides spill out.

His gaze locked on mine, and his mouth opened, though no sound came out; he smiled at me, a beatific smile that scared the hell out of me, and then closed his eyes. His arms slumped to his sides as he went completely limp.

I screamed, probably loud enough to wake the dead -- or at least the rest of the ship. If I'd been a mage in that moment, I'd have made a deal with a demon in a heartbeat if it meant he opened his eyes again. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move -- could only stare at the face of the man I loved, not even sure if he still lived.

He couldn't die. I couldn't stand it; I wouldn't. We'd fought so long and hard to find each other, to have a tiny slice of peace and happiness, and I wouldn't survive having that ripped away from me. I just sat there, staring at his beautiful, bloodied face, his lax expression, until the tears finally came. I don't know how long I sat there, frozen in shock; the next thing I noticed was Aedan shaking me. I blinked as the world came back into focus, suddenly realising I'd tuned out everything except the horrifying reality of the unmoving body in my lap. Once Aedan had drawn my focus, I realised I could hear shouting, the pounding of feet on the deck, a million other little sounds that I'd ignored in my horror.

"Sierra!" Aedan shouted, his hand digging into my shoulder as he shook me. "Help him Sierra. He needs you."

I blinked and nodded, then looked down to see the glass phial my brother had been trying to shove into my insensate fingers. It looked like the usual health potions we all used, but it was probably four times as large, and a darker red than I was used to. I took it and looked back up at Aedan in confusion.

"He's not gone yet. We still have a chance. Get that into him, okay?"

And then I felt it: Alistair's shoulders twitching as a weak cough passed out of his mouth. I gasped and lifted him a bit, trying to help clear his airway, shifting until his head was in my lap as I knelt beside him. I uncorked the phial with my teeth and gently pried his mouth open, trickling a tiny mouthful of the potion inside and massaging his neck until he swallowed. I was briefly -- shamefully -- grateful for my experience with Faren; I knew how to get fluids into unconscious people almost as well as Sigrun.

I looked up to see Aedan smearing the contents of a poultice across the wound to Alistair's abdomen, covering it with strips of fabric he pulled from a pile near his hip; Zevran stood beside us, quickling cutting up a tunic into strips that he dropped into the pile. Fergus stood at the end of the hallway with the captain, and our guards -- mine, Alistair's, and Fergus' -- surrounded all of us, hands on the pommels of their swords, their expressions grim. I couldn't focus on any of that, and could only hope that Fergus was managing the details of dealing with the dead Crows and finding out what the hell had happened. I only had eyes for my husband, still motionless in my lap.

I looked back down and coaxed a few more drops of potion into Alistair's mouth, and then a few more, until finally the bottle was empty. I was relieved to see the bleeding had stopped; the gash in Alistair's face had stopped oozing, and no blood was seeping through the makeshift bandages that Aedan was now tying into place. But Alistair remained pale and still, his skin clammy. Aedan and Zevran shared a look -- it was grim, and my heart skipped a beat -- before Aedan leaned over to me.

"Sierra? Let's get him into bed, okay?"

I nodded wordlessly, and Aedan and Zevran nudged me out of the way as they worked together to lift Alistair out of my lap. I scrambled up and opened the door to our cabin, only to gasp -- the room was a disaster. There was a body splayed across the middle of the floor, its face blue and bruised, and the bed was a mess, the blankets bloody and tangled.

Aedan took one look and growled, "Not there."

I fully agreed, but had no idea where else to go -- there weren't many passenger cabins on the ship, and as far as I knew, none of them had been empty. Some of them must have been occupied by the Crows who attacked us -- but I wouldn't be putting Alistair in their beds, either.

The captain saved us, trundling down the hall and gesturing wildly. "This way -- bring him over here."

Aedan and Zevran followed him down the hallway to a door at the end. The captain opened the door, and I followed all of them into the largest cabin I'd seen on board the ship. It was still cramped, but the bed was a double instead of the tiny mattress Alistair and I had shared, and it looked much thicker, as well. There was a small desk against one wall, covered in maps and papers I ignored; the other wall was taken up from floor to ceiling by a shelving unit full of books, small statues and other, less obvious items I didn't stop to look at. Aedan and Zevran eased Alistair onto the bed, and then I pushed past them to perch on the edge of the mattress and check Alistair's bandages.

His chest was rising and falling slightly, but too fast to be normal; I checked his pulse and it felt weak and far too quick. There was blood smeared everywhere -- his face, his chest, and down the fabric of his trousers. But the bandages were still dry, and I couldn't see any more open wounds. His eyes were still closed, his mouth slightly open, every muscle flaccid. I leaned down to press my forehead against his broad shoulder, heedless of the blood I was probably transferring onto my own face, and sobbed.

Everyone left me alone for a few minutes, giving me the space I needed to collect myself. I was terrified; I'd never seen anyone not wake up after a healing potion -- and it was so rare we didn't have a mage to help out. But watching Alistair being struck down, and seeing him look so pale, so vulnerable, was the scariest thing I'd ever been through. I'd rather fight the Archdemon a dozen times alone than see him hurt. I didn't know what to do or how to cope. Since the first time he'd kissed me, Alistair had been my strength -- and I was bereft without it.

When Aedan came back to check on me, I had pulled the chair tucked under the small desk over to the bedside, and I was just sitting there, holding Alistair's lifeless hand and counting his breaths, afraid to look away in case he faded right in front of me. My brother had found clothes somewhere, and taken enough time to wash his hands and face. It was odd, with Alistair and I both still so messy, to see him looking so clean. He kissed my head and then stood with me for a few moments watching his best friend just lie there.

When he spoke, his voice was so subdued I almost didn't hear him. "Sierra," he began, wincing when I twitched, "we need to talk. About what happened...and what we're going to do now."

I turned to him, irritated. "I'm not leaving this room until he wakes, Aedan. You can't ask me to do that."

His expression was full of sympathy -- but his tone was resolute. "I have to. Look, we'll bring in one of his guards to sit and watch him. They'll come get us if he so much as breathes deeply. But we need to figure out what we're going to do, and I don't want to have this conversation where we can be overheard."

I scowled deeper, horrified by the thought of leaving Alistair's side -- but worried about what Aedan had to say.

"Please?" Aedan held his hand out towards me. "We'll be as quick as we can. But we need to talk."

I sighed, taking his hand and standing up reluctantly. One of Alistair's guards crept in when Aedan gestured, and took my vacant chair.

"You'll call me if he even twitches." It wasn't a question, but the guard agreed anyway. I leaned down to press a kiss to Alistair's long nose -- the only part of his face not covered in blood -- and then followed as Aedan dragged me out the door.

We ended up in the small galley one floor down, doors closed and guarded by Avanna and one of Fergus' men. I flopped into a chair that Zevran pulled out for me, accepting a quick hug before leaning my elbows on the table with an exhausted sigh. Fergus was already there, as was the captain; Aedan and Zev settled on either side of me.

Fergus examined me critically before reaching into his pocket to offer me a handkerchief. I raised my eyebrows at him, but all he did was wave his hand in the general direction of my face. I looked down at the little square of fabric I held, and realised my hands were coated in blood -- and likely so was my face. I wiped it half-heartedly, wincing as drying blood and gore coated the white cotton.

"Sierra, can you tell us what happened before you came to our room?" Aedan was trying to be gentle, but I was still annoyed at being forced to leave Alistair for this.

I sighed. "I couldn't sleep, so I went up on the deck for some fresh air. I walked around for a bit and then went to sit on the ropes and ended up falling asleep. The next thing I knew, Dera and some guy with an Antivan accent were creeping around on deck trying to find me."

I took them through the whole series of events -- the conversation I overheard, deciding to hide, crawling along the outside of the railing, finding my guard dead along with several sailors. I admitted to killing the one I assumed was a Crow, and then Fergus finding us. I told them about telling Fergus to hide -- and Dera to protect him -- and they knew what had happened from there.