Zana’s sharp eyes gazed up to the small bluff that her brother would stand upon, where he would soon be staring back across the waves of people that had flocked to his banner for the long progression to the battle field. Now across the sparse and hilly woods the enemy waited. This was no battle of glory, it was to take down the traitor and reinstate the throne to the rightful line. It had taken Zana a moment to realize now that these folk gathered around her who had accepted her into their folds would not be fighting a faceless army, but one with the faces of those they loved. She swallowed hard as she tried to ignore the truth and prepare herself for the battle that waited ahead of them.
She had chosen to perch atop the rim of the chariot while waiting for her brother to begin to speak. She was quiet, brooding over his words of last night and the time she’d spent in the arms of Aisleran. He hadn’t understood what had brought her to his tent and she didn’t care what the men would say come morning but she’d stayed wrapped in his arms until morning, curled up tightly with her fingers wrapped up in his own. She would let them think what they wished if it pleased them, they would not have long to place bets on what went on. She knew Aisleran by now and the first to tease or approach him on her presence in his tent would find their want for scandal to be short lived.
The slight woman turned her gaze to the masses, knowing that somewhere out there Aisleran was waiting for the moment they would surge the army of the usurper. They seemed to think that DaVinci would speak a long and lengthy talk to boost their spirits and usher them into war, she knew otherwise but she didn’t say anything as they stood so silently in the eerie predawn shimmer, the promise of light to come. She hoped it was a promise of a swift battle and victory as well. They needed a miracle.
Her mind slipped back to the warmth of Aisleran’s body and the rhythmic sound of his breathing as she wondered if perhaps she should have taken the moment further, but it was as if something inside of her hushed that idea. She let her orbs drift back towards where she thought she’d taken a glimpse of Aisleran standing rallied with his troops, thinking that perhaps if they survived this she might bask in the splendors of the man after all. Her moment to idly wonder came to a close quickly though as DaVinci appeared before them with a glint in his eye and the dark red cloak of promise, the sign of the Ri.
DaVinci had no clue what he would say as he sat in his chariot atop the rise, looking down the valley at his people who believed that he would lead them into battle and they would be the victors. His eyes caught the sight of Nesmed with tiny Zana perched upon the frame of the chariot. He knew that she hated the means of travel but it worked well enough in the raids and battles in these lands that he didn’t question them too much. He gave his sister a small nod before he turned his orbs back to the whole before him.
His voice was light and strong as he spoke up, the wind whipping across his face as he greeted his people. ”Today we shall drive back the usurper Malchan and take back what is rightfully ours. We shall bring the fall of his reign and set the order of things back in place. I will lead you into battle and we shall be victorious! I will bring back the head of Malchan to show that no one but the rightful heir will sit upon the throne!” The roar that he was greeted with was thunderous as his dark eyes surveyed the people below. A grim smile set upon his lips as he opened his maw to speak again, but instead of another long worded speech he roared and thrust his spear into the air, signaling for his men to charge.
The thunder of the hooves of the horses and the voices of the men, worked into a frenzy at the thought of battle surged around him quickly and overtook him as he turned his strong horse around and joined them in the charge down the hilltop. They sped across the rich land and down into a valley where the enemy was trying to ascend to the top. His fangs glittered as he realized that the coward had tried to bring his army to their backs. The man was glad that he had not give another longwinded speech for he wasn’t sure if any of them would have survived to hear the end of it.
With a snarl of fury he dove into the battle, his spear in one arm and his sword in the other as he twisted the reins of the horse around one hand as he began to drive back to foes, glad to know that the faces were all a blur for he would hate to come face to face with a friend he’d grown up with to find that they had betrayed his place in the right of things. Gritting his teeth in anger at the idea he drove the head of his spear into a warrior’s side who was trying to gain control of his chariot before thrusting the man back into the swarm of bodies. He felt the hot sherring pain of another’s weapon cut across his shoulder as he snarled and cut back with his sword, leaving the blade bloodied as the fellow bellowed and was caught by the edge of an ax.
DaVinci caught the grinning face of the brute Uegul before he brought the ax up to cut at the weapon of another. He grinned bitterly as he moved back into the sway of things, the movements almost mechanical as he slice at another with his spear before he was thrown from the chariot, his steeds brought down by the hell and fury of the battle about them. Flung clear over the heads of the beasts he landed and rolled to his feet quickly. He’d lost the spear in the flight but he still clinched his sword in his left hand. Quick as a flash he had to go on the defence, realizing how stupid it was to mark the leader of clans by such vivid colors as the cloak he wore was.
As he beat the man back he felt another body pressed to his back as he flicked the latch of the broach open and let the cloak fall to the ground to be trampled upon by all. From the corner of his eye he realized who had come to his back and grinned. Aisleran had found his way through the masses to the heir’s side and back to back they pressed on, beating the enemy back as DaVinci’s eyes sought out the form of Malchan, knowing when the usurper had died by his own hands that the battle would be over.
He snarled as he came to believe that the coward hadn’t led the men into battle but hung back. His voice rose above the cries of battle as he and Aisleran had formed a clearing about them, the fallen warriors serving as a barrier for a moment in time. ”Malchan, come forth and fight like a man, prove yourself more than the rat and coward we see you as!” It seemed with his words that a ripple spread through the battle but in the blink of an eye Aisleran and DaVinci were back to defending their small patch of turf, with the expection of the few who found and pushed through to join their cirlcle, including Cuhbnan mac Dohthe the lord of Trheiclan and Uehban, the warrior who’d protested in earnest at Zaan’s status as a warrior. He grinned to himself, spattered in blood and gore as they pressed on.
Zana couldn’t put a stop to her restless rustling of the garments that she wore as she narrowed her orbs and perked her ears forward to catch the words of her brother. She was proud of him she realized as she flicked her tail back and forth beside Nesmed and muttered to herself. The driver of the chariot reached a hand out to grab a hold of her jerkin as once more she began her shifting and clinching of the rail of their carrier. She flashed him a toothy grin as she gave up and settled in place as the words poured over the people around her.
She couldn’t help but smile again as the roar erupted at the voice of the true Ri, how he stirred their emotions and brought them to their feet. She had prepared carefully today for the fight that would take place and she was silent as the voices echoed through the woods, fingering the hollow tube that would become a deadly weapon in their greatest need. The spear and staff were still present across her back and she knew that her skill in welding a dagger would be of great assistance if it came down to that but what she worried about most was not her weapons or her safety but of those who she would be of no help to in mere moments. Thoughts of DaVinci and Aisleran took over in the few seconds that remained of DaVinci’s speech as she sighed and gritted her teeth, knowing that the hounds of hell were upon them all and their breath was rank with the odor of death.
She had almost failed to notice that her brother had given the signal to charge. Finding herself struggling to keep her hold on the rail as Nesmed surged forward with a roar of laughter as Zana shot ill looks his way. She finally gave in an gave a devilish grin of her own as they were surrounded by the warriors and faces she’d come to know in the moons since she’d arrived on their shores. What they were greeted with as they came over the ridge of the woods was not what she’d expected and a savage snarl erupted from her throat as she gathered darts in one hand and the miniature weapon in the other.
She quickly leapt from the chariot and onto the back of one of the horses who gave a neigh of alarm but did little else once the stallion realized who it was who was upon his frame. She ignored the cries of Nesmed as she gripped the horse’s wide barrel of a body with her knees as the flood of enemy soldiers surrounded them. War was fresh in the air with the battle cries and the alarming sound of death all around her. If she hadn’t pushed aside thoughts of those she cared for she probably would have thrown up at her first sight of death upon the grounds about her.
It took her a moment to remember what she was suppose to do as she saw a faceless man before her, his weapon raised to strike at Nesmed, not even realizing her small presence upon the horse’s back. She grinned wolfishly as she took in a sharp breath of air and in the blink of an eye the man was under the legs of the warriors behind him that were quick to replace his place without batting an eye at what had befallen their comrade.
Zana quickly followed up that first dart with a dozen or so more, aimed at different members of the usurper’s army as they fought to gain ground and push the enemy back into hell where they came from. She could hear the grunts and growls from her partner as he tossed the reins around his free arm, his other mechanically swinging for the enemies that came to rest up against the chariot as they tried to claim his life for their own tally in the great of things. She could hear the whistling of the blade through the air and the cries of the warriors as the steel bit into flesh. She knew that many would not rise from the mass grave they were creating but she pressed past that as she realized that she had quickly moved through half her store of darts, knowing now was the time to switch weapons.
Her spear was in her hands quickly as she let the slim hollow reed fall back to her neck on the leather thong that kept it in place. Her thrusts were fast and low, aiming for vital organs and the space between leather and skin near the pits of the arms for warriors were forever leaving themselves open when they went for their flashy moves with swords and daggers.
She grinned to herself when a man sought to slash the reins that held the horses to the chariot. Her weapon sang through the air but at the last second the warrior realized that the horses had a rider and he was fast to counter her strike, causing her to have to redouble her efforts as she snarled. She dug one hand into the mane of the horse she rode as she balanced upon her pads on the wide back of the beast. The male’s weapon came to crash against her own once more almost causing her to lose her balance and go tumbling under the hooves below. That was not the way she wanted to go and she was not going to let death claim her so easily. She barely got her spear up again as the man tried to swing up to catch her again.
For once in her life she had the advantage of height and she planned on using it as much as she could. A grin split her lips as their weapons locked, her hand coming free from the hold on the horse’s whipping mane as she took a strike at the man with her dagger, the weapon finding the mark as he fell under the plague of men and was lost. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been injured as she gave a soft growl, seeing the flash of brilliance that was the color of blood upon her flesh, oozing as it slowly congealed.
She shook her head and ignored the wound as she heard the cry from Nesmed as someone had finally realized that she was upon the horse and it seemed they’d decided she was an easy kill. Her eyes darkened as she caught the glancing blow along her hip. The bite of the weapon causing her knees to buckle as she came to rest once more upon the horse’s back. The beast realizing what was happening had reared, jerking Zana from the reaches of the dark furred male who had raised his sword again. She snarled and sliced her spear across his chest as the horse brought her crashing back down to earth only to rear once more. She desperately clung to the beast with one arm as she thrust her spear out and into the chest of the man who has staggered back from her first blow. She gave a groan of disgust as her spear went with him down into the blood soaked battle field.
She turned to Nesmed and called for another spear, hoping that he had another left, not wanting to be left with a staff and dagger. He was in the mists of taking down another as her hoarse voice rang out. Her right leg wouldn’t support her weight and she had fallen back to straddling the massive beast beneath her as he had finally calmed down with the threat gone.
In a quick fluid motion her companion in the war threw a spear to her which she caught, thankful that he’d been wise enough to shorten a few to her height before the battle had begun. She would need to thank him later but now there was fighting. A grim determined look settled across her face as she turned back to face the masses before and around them.
Somehow in those few seconds someone had missed a blow to another and the horse that had been paired with the stallion she rode upon had been gravely wounded. She could feel the mountain of a mammal falling upon the stallion that bucked and reared trying to get out of the way though failing, their reins had become entangled and he was doomed as his mate had been.
It had happened so quickly she hadn’t even realized that she had fallen from the stallion’s back, tumbling into the mass of warriors as Nesmed’s cry went out to those around them. She rolled head over heels, feeling something clip her along her back as she finally rolled to a stop and staggered to her feet as a snarl erupted from her lips.
Her lavender eyes had grown stormy as she realized that almost all the warriors about her were looking her over. She thrust her way into the battle quickly, knowing that everyone that missed her would find a place for their weapons in the flesh of her friends. Zana was growing weary from the weight of holding off the blows from those who were much stronger than her but she hadn’t realized that Nesmed had abandoned the chariot when the horses had been lost and was slowly making his way to join her.
She took down another man when his back was turned, not caring if it was a coward’s way at war, he was careless for overlooking her. The cry of her brother to the usurper made a grin spread across her lips as she darted in to take another stab at someone’s vitals, feeling the spear slide like warm butter on bread through the man’s flesh, moving backwards as he fell before her, groping for the whole she’d left in his body as he realized the warrior who had taken his life was nothing but a child, and a miniature of any of them there.
This was the choice she had made and she faltered a moment as she watched the man dying, coming out of it when she was pushed aside, barely catching her balance as she favored her bad leg and pulled her spear up to face another, surprised to find that the warrior facing her was Nesmed. She offered him a devilish grin as she turned to press her weapon on into battle, the warrior beside her like the shadow Aisleran had been for so many weeks before.
They began to gang up on the masses before them, fighting right beside each other, two against one to take down the men around them. She never noticed when she had taken another wound, someone’s bare claws ripping across her face and shoulder. She staggered to the ground and was slow to bring herself up, grateful for Nesmed’s cover as she realized her battle was coming to an end, not even certain what was left of the fight before them.
The battle was grim but he moved on through the dances. He had left behind the training of swords when he had left Ireland, relying on his claws and fangs, though he realized now that that had been foolish, even if it was in some ways the way of the lands. He was glad that he had picked up the sessions on the ship alongside Zana and Aisleran and had maintained them through the moons that had drawn before today. He was growing tired but the frenzy of the battle was taking over now, he would continue to move once he was past exhaustion if only because he knew there was nothing left beyond failure. His fangs were bare as he pressed on.
The true heir to the throne had kept one eye out for the man who was the cause for this battle. He would make him pay for every life that was claimed today and he would relish the feel as his life force drained from his body. Aisleran called out a warning as a warrior charged into their tight circle, trying to get a bite out of the true Ri. He didn’t get his chance as Aisleran took his life in a flash, his dagger striking out as though it were a viper defending its home.
DaVinci didn’t even have time to thank the man as he pushed on, the small circle moving away from the blood soaked grounds slowly, carefully stepping over the fallen and placing new ones in their wake. He did not have the heart for war and he knew that as they settled upon a patch of grass that had felt little bit of the coppery blood that had run so freely over the rest of the grounds. He turned his eyes towards the rest of his crew as they bunched together once more to defend each other’s backs and make certain that there was no way that someone could slip into their space unless they were willing to meet death.
When Uehban took a spear to the chest and was lost among the fallen his heart ached for the hardened warrior but he had no tears to cry. He just preyed that man had taken his killer down with him before he died. It wasn’t long before DaVinci realized that more and more of the faces around them belonged to their own army and not the enemy. He growled low in his throat as he realized that they were going to have to go hunting to ferret out the coward who had called men in his name but refused to fight beside them.
The clash of war could be heard over the lands but they had won here, that much was clear. DaVinci lifted his head as warriors gathered around him. His eyes were bright though he was feeling the exhaust as someone passed him a skin of water, flavored with mint and lemon. The soothing liquid brought life back to his parched throat, taking a second go at it before passing it on to another. His eyes were dark as he spoke up to those crowded around awaiting orders.
”Malchan has gone to ground it seems, we will have to flush him out like the prey he is.” His eyes narrowed at the thought as he pressed on with more instructions as the men’s faces seemed to echo his own emotions. ”I want those of you who can tend to others to stay behind and help those who can be helped. Guard yourselves and the wounded well. I don’t want any more lives lost than need be.” he met the eyes of the men as they nodded but waited to see if there was anything else he had to say.
He turned towards the scene before them as he spoke. ”I want the senior warriors to come with me and those uninjured who have no skill at bandaging and assisting to find where you can be useful among those areas still in the heat of battle. Be careful, there may be deserters or those that know they are beat who will try for one last victory…” He motioned to Aisleran and the lord Cuhbnan mac Dohthe to join him. A score of other men broke off and followed as well as those with any skill in healing or assisting began to move among the wounded, dying and dead.
They would assist where needed, their men and the enemy. DaVinci had already spoken against killing the wounded of their enemy, knowing too that they would once more be joined as kin if the war had been won. He knew as well that the usurper would not have shown the same kindness but he didn’t care. It was better in the long run to be merciful than to show the hand of a tyrant. He would not bet what Malchan had been.
Mabh appeared with a horse that had been caught in the woods, his reins tangled in a thorn bush having kept him from galloping free. DaVinci lead the beast as they searched high and low for the traitor, avoiding the small pockets of battle where they could and lending a hand where they couldn’t. Some warriors faded off into the battles hear but not seen but DaVinci was looking for any signs that would lead to the man who was responsible for this all.
They had been lucky when they joined in one last fray, one of the commanders from Malchan’s army having sense enough to admit defeat and surrender had presented them with information of interest. He had spoken of the usurper and how he had been on the outskirts of the war always, having watched from the rise where they camped as the army marched out. He swore that the man had stayed on the bluff to see them off and had returned to his tent, assuming that his warriors would do their job and do it well enough to ensure that DaVinci wouldn’t live.
The man snarled in rage and let the warriors take him into custody and back towards the grounds were the wounded were being helped and those too far gone were given the chance to see one last friendly face. DaVinci ordered the man to stay behind and witness what Malchan had lead their people to, to be the one to be at the side of every gasping comrade who had rode into the battle alongside him that the medics could find. He ordered the same for anyone else who would put down their weapons and come willingly with the men.
The day was growing late, it was strange how quickly time passed when war was upon you. DaVinci could see the shadows settling in as he released all but a few of the senior warriors. Somehow along the way Aisleran had found a horse of his own and Mabh too. He turned towards the woods where the falsely appointed Ri had remained, climbing onto the back of the beast that had willing bore him on. His eyes were stormy as he spoke softly to Aisleran and Mabh. ”We’ve got a hunt before us and blood is on the hands of Malchan. He won’t live to see tomorrow.” He gave instructions for those who still wished to follow him to find mounts if possible and follow, but giving them the warning that he wouldn’t wait, they would have to catch up. In a flash he was off, with Aisleran and Mabh hot on his heels.
Zana could feel her pulse quicken as she had come to the point where her body had fought far longer than it should have. She gritted her teeth as Nesmed and two others, Clanian and Camran by the looks of it had shifted the wave of the enemy around them to allow her a moment to gather herself. She was glad that she had gained their respect in the past moons but she wished for Aisleran and DaVinci, souls that she knew far better than any face before her now. She closed her eyes a second as she used her spear to pull herself up completely. She pulled the staff from the strap across her back as she leaned heavily upon it and shifted the spear to her good hand as she narrowed her eyes and nodded to Nesmed who had taken a moment to glance back at her.
Quick as can be they all shifted to make her part of their defense again, the four of them easily taking on the wave once more. The fighting had persisted for quite some time, Zana able to feel the noontime heat beating down upon her head as she shook sweat from her fur, seeing no end in sight as her heart gave a lurch as Nesmed had been brought down, a spear piercing his side. Zana snarled and yelled for the others to cover the fallen man as another joined their force.
Zana quickly pulled away, leaving the heavy fighting to the fit warriors while she quickly fell to the ground beside Nesmed to examine the damage. He had taken the spear clear through his side but it didn’t seem like it had struck anything vital, there was no frothing of blood about his lips and when he spoke though his voice was raspy it didn’t seem as though his lung had been punctured. The smallest warrior among them quickly unraveled the ribbons that had been bound up in her tail and ripping the bottom half of her shirt she made a makeshift bandage, wadding up the fabric to his wound and swiftly wrapping the yards of ribbon about his frame. She flashed him a quick grin as she told him, ”Pink is definitely not your color.” making sure that he was fine otherwise she removed herself from the ground and limped back to the circle of warriors that surrounded them, only to realize that while she’d been tending Nesmed the battle had run on without them, the defeated enemy trickling through the trees to try and escape as some of their own followed after.
She frowned to herself before turning back to Nesmed and asked. ”Is it over? Have we won?” He grunted and as Clanian and Camran joined her he admitted that he didn’t know, perhaps they had won the battle but the war would not be won until Malchan had been thrown from the throne. She scratched an ear a moment before she wondered aloud. ”Do we have to wait for him to show? Perhaps we should go find him..” She knew that if DaVinci hadn’t found him yet that he would be on him like a hound on a scent. A stab of panic hit her as she realized that she didn’t know if her sibling was alive or where exactly he could be.
Instead of acting on her suggestion she dropped to the ground, her leg finally giving out on her as she sighed and crawled over to lean again Nesmed as she destroyed the rest of her shirt and began to take notice of her maraud of wounds and bruises scattered across her body. She growled to herself as she ignored Nesmed’s comment on how the Ollamhs would not be happy to see her striped down like a little savage again. She had worked hard to let them believe that she didn’t mind wearing the clothing that they had provided but she could care less now. The shirt would do better as a bandage than on her frame, it had already become blood soaked and gore spattered.
She paused a second and dropped the remnants of the shirt, thinking that perhaps it was better if she just let her wounds weep for now. She really didn’t want to have to clean out all sorts of grime and grit from her wounds later when the healer women decided that they needed stitches. She did have to admit that there were some things here that seemed a little bit better than back home in the territories. In its own way though, this place was twice as savage and barbaric.
Someone passed her a waterskin and she poured some of the blessed liquid down her throat before she realized that it wasn’t water but the strong spirits of the clan. She gave a grimace and glared at the owner of the skin before passing it about to the next soul. She was luckier the second round, sniffing the opening to make certain it was indeed water before taking a swig and letting the water roll about her maw before spitting it upon the ground. The next gulp went to fill her belly and the last to soak what part of her shredded shirt was the cleanest, using it to wipe some of the remnants of war off her frame.
She sat silently beside Nesmed, not knowing if she could even get up right now or if she even wanted to. Clanian and Camran had gone off to see who had survived and to recover their wounded and those of the enemy. Zana pinned her ears back as she realized that she had no clue where they were. This wasn’t the same glade that they had descended upon, even without the scattered array of warriors and death upon it it wasn’t right, the valley had been larger. She voiced her concerns to Nesmed, who despite his wounds roared with laughter.
She really couldn’t tell what he thought was so funny but she sat there quietly and waited til he was done to see if he would perhaps grace her with what she’d said that had been such a riot. When he did take the time to explain she should have realized it without his explanation. They had been riding in one of the chariots and even if it didn’t seem like they were moving the horses had brought them farther into the battle than those who had been on foot. She just silently shook her head in wonder and decided that it was best if she shut up while she was still ahead.
After a while she used her staff like a crutch and made her way about the field, looking for her lost weapon. She knew that there were lots more out in the world but she had carved the spear down from the rib of a massive whale and she was going to make certain that it was returned to its owner. She was weary by the time she found the ivory weapon jutting through the man she’d killed, his hollow eyes gazing up at her but never seeing as she tugged the spear from his rigid frame.
She silently made her way back to where Nesmed still lay resting, joining him once more as they watched the bodies of the slain enemies moved to piers to be burned. She couldn’t say she approved of how the warriors cleaned up the fields, at least they wouldn’t have to bury all the dead, just those of their clan who had fought beside them. She wrinkled her nose as the piers were lit and the scent of burning flesh hit her senses. War was a hellish and brutal place.
Zana had closed her eyes for a moment, leaning back against Nesmed thinking that she would only rest her overwhelmed body for a few seconds, but when she opened her eyes, realizing that someone was gently shaking her the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, the cold autumn chill setting in. She shivered and turned to find that Clanian had found the stallion that she’d believed had been killed in the fray. The beast had seen better days, there were some cuts and scratches across his barrel chest but aside from being worn he seemed to be whole. Camran was helping Nesmed onto the back of the horse and Clanian lifted a protesting Zana up to join him, the small girl perched in front of Nesmed’s large frame as she took the reins at Nesmed’s request. She listened quietly as Camran told her that DaVinci and Aisleran had been seen with the lord of the hall going towards the enemy camp.
They had been seeking out Malchan and no one knew if they had found him yet, the remaining warriors being too busy taking the wounded out on litters into the meadows where wagons were waiting to carry them on the long trek back to the halls. Camran told her to take Nesmed to the meadow and get herself checked out by one of the attending. She had other plans though.
Zana followed through on the first half of her instructions, bringing Nesmed to the healers. She watched as her comrade and commander was settled into one of the last wagons to be taken to the halls. He looked up at her upon the horse and knew what she was about. He nodded once before wishing her happy hunting. She grinned and gave the command for the stallion to move out, the beast going no more than a trot, but also knowing that was about all she could take right now.
The world about her was bathed in crimson from the late rays of the sun. She was glad for the full moon that she knew would be overhead as long as the clouds stayed at bay. She would need all the help she could get finding DaVinci, if she would even find him that was. She sighed to herself and pressed on, the sight of the enemy’s camp was visible when she reached the bluff, across the fields and valleys it rested, the shadowy figures of tents and wagons scattered about.
She had to shake her head a few times to be sure but it seemed like the shadows danced far below; she couldn’t be certain if it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her weary soul or if there were figures in the deserted camp. She urged her weary horse on as she reached back for the spear she’d recently gathered from the battlegrounds as she made to cover the last of the distance between her and what she hoped was her final destination, where she would find the usurper slain and the two men she’d worried and fretted over so before and after the battle.
It had been a long and grueling ride to the deserted camp of their enemies. Those who had chosen to surrender had done so already and those who had fled were being pursued. DaVinci doubted that Malchan was actually stupid enough to remain at camp and wait for news of the progress of the war that raged around him. Perhaps he wanted to believe that an idiot hadn’t mounted the throne that was rightfully his but the blood and chaos that had reigned around them today told him differently.
His eyes scanned the scene before him as Aisleran and Mabh came up behind him to pause before the entrance to the camp. The flag of the Ri fluttered weakly in a breeze as DaVinci narrowed his stormy orbs. The usurper had actually had the nerve to use the banner that was DaVinci’s inheritance to fly over his men. The steel gray male turned away from the banner to gaze about the camp before sliding off his mount’s back and going by foot from here on out, his sword drawn as he heard the steps of Aisleran and Mabh following in his stead.
There was no noise in the camp as DaVinci and his two followers fanned out across the camp and made certain that they were indeed alone. The scent of cooked meat and wood smoke met the true heir’s nose as he followed the tiny swirls of air that danced through the tents and teased at his senses. Aisleran appeared to his left and signed that he had not seen sight nor sound of the traitor. Mabh was not far behind him with a report that was almost identical to Aisleran’s.
DaVinci nodded quietly as he kept moving, his voice low as he questioned the two men. ”Do you smell that? I don’t believe any of the men would have been asked to stay behind and make certain a banquet was waiting when the blood soaked warriors returned.” His eyes glittered darkly as a simple smile appeared upon his lips as both Aisleran and Mabh chuckled and agreed. They moved like ghosts through the camp, following the scent of wood smoke and meat until they came to a small fireplace that had obviously just been abandoned.
A soft growl rose from his throat at the way of the coward, how Malchan was trying to slip away from his fate once more. He would make certain that the man didn’t survive to run again. He had had enough of these childish games and he would draw the enemy out to do battle and settle this like grown men. Aisleran and Mabh began to inspect about the fire pit, noticing marks and smudges in the ground where one had left quickly.
DaVinci nodded as his stormy orbs gazed towards the direction the man had run; luckily for him he’d moved further back into the rows of tents instead of the woods. He grinned to himself as he saddled up once more and turned his mount in a tight circle as he waited for Aisleran and Mabh to do the same.
In moments the two were behind him as they thundered down the rows of tents, the prints of one running hastily clear in the mud and muck, evening from the backs of the horses they road. Once or twice the men paused to study the prints and readjust their tracks.
DaVinci leapt down from his charger, his feet silent as they touched down on the ground. Crouching beside a set of stumbling prints he touched a damn pockmark in the earth before smiling to himself. Malchan was running in fear now. He was nothing more than a coward, not even willing to stand and face his own end. The man might believe he was able to run but DaVinci would prove him wrong.
He quickly remounted and the three set off at a gallop down the trail, the scent of the man fresh on the breeze as they came to the edge of the camp. DaVinci narrowed his eyes as he realized that the man had finally had a stroke of luck. Aisleran and Mabh murmured under their breath as DaVinci took a moment to consider the chances of finding the man by tracking him on horseback through the woods.
He snarled and dismounted, weary already of this game that Malchan lead them on. He shed his clothes quickly, he did not care what his comrades thought as he shifted down to his Secui form, if he was going to catch the bastard two legs was not going to work. Aisleran and Mabh could follow behind him at their own pace but he was going to end this tonight. Tilting his head back he let out an eerie yipping call, alerting the traitor that he was onto him now.
His paws pounded on the ground as the scent of the usurper was all around him. His bright eyes caught the sweat drops that Malchan shed as he ran, the fear that radiated from them was like ecstasy to the true heir. He could hear the men behind him trying to keep pace as he slowly began to pull away.
After a mile or so he had outdistanced them and was catching up to Malchan. The labored breathing of the beast could be heard ahead in the darkness of the forest as he stumbled and crashed through the wild. A wicked grin split DaVinci’s maw as he knew that the end was drawing near.
He lengthened his pace as he could feel the strain of his muscles, the weariness of the day forgotten as the excitement of the hunt was upon him. His teeth flashed in the dim rays of moonlight that fell softly through the woods. He brushed through a barrier of brambles and crashed into a clearing, the sight before him was like a dream come true as he finally caught up with Malchan.
The usurper heard the sound of DaVinci’s entrance behind him and had enough sense to finally turn and face death. His sword bare in his hands as the reek of fear stank up the meadow. DaVinci didn’t even stop to think he just sped across the field and leapt at the man who was accountable for the lives of their clan. Malchan might have been a coward but he was a warrior as well. He caught the true heir along the breast, DaVinci’s collarbone catching the brute of the blow as the beast landed, the sheering pain brightening the world around him as he snarled and didn’t even give Malchan time to think as he launched at the male once more.
His fangs caught around the sword arm of the male, dragging him down by weight as he shook his head back and forth, sinking his teeth deeper into the male’s flesh until Malchan was forced to give up his sword to the ground below. DaVinci kicked out at the weapon with his hindleg, feeling the bite of the steel once more in his flesh, but at the same time knowing that the weapon was now out of both of their reaches.
He moved away from Malchan as a low growl etched its way from his throat. His stormy orbs watched the yellow orbs of the man before him; Malchan’s blood tinting his teeth as he snarled and lunged again. DaVinci was not thinking of what low and dirty tricks Malchan might use but he learned as his teeth sank into the man’s flesh, scraping along his own collarbone as he felt a sharp pain in his side. The bastard had pulled a dagger on him, it was just his luck though that he’d hit along DaVinci’s shoulder and hadn’t been able to get the weapon between his ribs to the vital organs beneath.
Knowing that he was taking a chance DaVinci twisted in the male’s grip and sank his fangs into the throat of his enemy, feeling his blood welling up in his maw as Malchan’s body convulsed and he heard the thud of the dagger hit the ground. He freed his aching jaws from the monster’s flesh and untangled his bruised and battered body from that of the usurper.
His eyes were dark as he watched the blood frothing from Malchan’s maw as Aisleran and Mabh emerged from the woods beyond. He could feel his own body shutting down from the abuse he’d let reign down upon himself that day. He was silent as he watched the fear and anger in Malchan’s eyes replaced with the blank stare of nothing, the stare of a man who’d seen death. He had met his end and knew the hard price he had to pay for the deeds he’d done in the name of power and glory.
His heart hammered in his chest as he heard his two loyal men murmur behind him. When he turned to stare at them the two were kneeling on the ground. DaVinci growled low in his throat as he grunted. ”Get off your knees, you know better than that..” It was true, the two had known DaVinci and knew he was not one who would make them bow and kneel at his every turn. In some ways he feared the power that he had inherited and rightly so.
It took him three tries to shift back to his Optime form, his body worn and weak from the day’s events. When finally he had power over his body he moved across the bloodstained field and found the weapon that had had kicked away in their short and bloody battle. He picked the sword up and was silent as he walked back to the slain body of the usurper. With one quick fluid motion he let the sword slice through the man’s body, separating his head from his frame, the empty eyes of the man never changing as he head rolled to a stop a short distance from his body.
DaVinci was silent as Aisleran left to find their horses and bring them back to collect the body and head of the betrayer. DaVinci didn’t even notice as Mabh began to tend his wound, to end the sluggish flow of his lifeblood from his body. His voice was ragged as he finally asked ”It’s over now, isn’t it?” though he knew already that it was far from over. He might have reclaimed his place as the Ri but there was a long way to go before there was order in the lands once more.
sosu 1391
Zana had known that she was far behind her brother and his comrades as Nesmed had send her on her way, not giving voice to the fact that she was suppose to stay with him and return to the infirmary. He already had known that there was no stopping the young fierce woman until she had found her sibling and Aisleran. He wasn’t for sure what the two shared but he was not going to hold her captive while those she cared for might be in danger. He had just watched the tiny warrior princess as she pushed the horse on.
Her eyes darted to a fro in the dying light of the woods as she kept an eye out for deserters. She had been lucky and hadn’t had to call upon her spear to fight back anyone looking for a last minute glory. Instead she had been forced to pick her way through land unfamiliar to her on a horse that was just a worn as she was. There were times when she had finally decided to lead the horse herself, limping along as they had made small headway through the woods.
She had breathed a sigh of relief when she came to the clearing that marked the edge of the lands that Malchan’s men had held. After a few failed attempts she gained her seat on the stallions back once more and found that the land was flying by as she urged the horse into a gallop. She would find DaVinci if it was the last thing she did.
It seemed forever as she moved through the rows upon rows of tents, never actually finding anything of interest but knowing still that she had to press on. Her ears pinned back against her head as she slowed the horse to a trot as she reached the far end of the camp. Zana was careful to watch for any signs of recent activity as she moved the horse along the edge of the trampled ground.
She frowned to herself as she caught sight of what looked like fresh manure. Slowly crawling from the back of the horse she moved awkwardly across the grass to where the droppings lay. The young warrior poked at the mass with a twig, the moisture and warm of the dung apparent as a grim smile set upon her lips. She examined the tracks of the horses as the scent of the men finally rang true. It didn’t take long to tell just where DaVinci was heading.
Struggling to gain access to the stallion’s back once more she couldn’t help but roll her eyes as the beast nudged her rear up with his head and stood ready for her next move. Zana maneuvered the beast into the woods, suddenly aware of the sounds of other beasts in the forest. Her ears pricked forward as she caught the neigh of another horse and the answering snort. She smiled as she pressed the stallion into motion, letting him find his own way as she stayed on the scent of Aisleran and DaVinci.
She had just been about to give up when she heard the distinctive sounds of battle ahead. The snarl and roar of the men fighting caught her attention as she urged the horse forward. The beast was weary, as was she but he moved quickly through the trees, bringing her closer and closer to the sounds that seemed to echo across the lands. She bit her lip in fear as she hoped that she came upon a scene of victory and not sorrow. She wasn’t certain if she could afford to be found by Malchan in the mists of the woods in the state she was in.
As quickly as the fighting had begun it seemed that it had ended, or perhaps it was just the way it seemed to her. She wasn’t for certain how long she’d been traveling since the sounds of the battle had died away but she could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest as she urged the horse beyond what she knew he was able to do. It was cruel, but so was not knowing the truth.
When the stallion stumbled and fell to his knees she somehow managed to stay on his back, though her form was slumped over his neck and her claws woven into his mane. She shook from exhaust but she knew the horse was in far worse shape. She felt ashamed for having pressed him this far when she knew he was spent. The beast attempted to rise to his legs once more but Zana quieted him with a paw against his thick neck as she untangled herself from his form.
She made certain that the horse was ok and that he could rise to his feet before she tied his reins to a tree limb and continued alone, using her staff as a crutch once more as she came to the edge of the forest. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden glare of moonlight overhead as she gave a startled cry as she tried to surge across the field, her body protesting the will she pressed on with.
She made it halfway across before she stumbled and her leg gave way beneath her. She wept as she caught sight of her brother, still alive but scarred from one shoulder to his hip with a fierce wound that Mabh was stitching up currently. She took in the sight of all of his wounds, not even caring for what she’d been through as she cried bitterly, knowing now that he was alive, even if he was worse for wear.
Zana never even noticed nor protested when Aisleran bent down to lift her slight body from the ground. His murmurs went unheard as she didn’t even have the strength to protest as he carried her in his arms across the fiend to where her brother was being tended. Fresh tears escaped as she flung her arms around his neck as Aisleran set her down, the woman not even taking the time to mind DaVinci’s new wounds in her hurry to make certain he was whole.
Aisleran held no ill wishes on the woman for ignoring him; even after the attention he’d lavished on her these past moons. He understood in a sense that her brother was indeed more important, even if his thoughts on the importance were different than what Zana’s might be. He let a slight smile settle on his lips as he watch DaVinci receive her as she stumbled through so many different words at once, making a mess of everything as she went along.
Zana’s eyes were bright with tears though they had finally quite falling as she hugged DaVinci once more before sliding away from his neck and settling beside him. She had apologized a million times over for the pain she’d inflicted on him in her haste to make certain he was still there and breathing.
She never noticed the amusement in his stormy eyes as he was finally able to calm her fears and set things straight. She wasn’t for certain what was going to happen next but it seemed that DaVinci had done the impossible, even though he had assured her that Malchan was no warrior and hadn’t even lasted that long. She just shook her head in amazement as she asked, ”What happens next.”
The roar of laughter that met her ears was not what she expected as Aisleran helped DaVinci onto his horse and the true Ri placed Zana in front of him as Mabh and Aisleran’s horses dragged the corpse of Malchan behind them. The head of the usurper in a crimson soaked bag that thudded against the side of the saddle with every step the horse took.
Zana knew that she should protest at DaVinci even attempting to ride after his wounds had just been tended, knowing that he was going to upset them and cause them to bleed through his bandages before they even got back to the castle, but she was too tired to argue as she just murmured for them not to leave her stallion as she leaned back against her brother’s chest, her eyes already closing as she finally gave in to the exhaust that claimed her.
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