Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't...
Summary: The thing about revenge is it can often increase in leaps and bounds depending on the situation that prompts one to seek revenge.
A/N: This story is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe. Enjoy!
Revenge is Best Served...
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It looked deceptively peaceful. And from this angle you almost couldn't smell that distinct stench of the marshes. I glared at the missive containing the instructions then shot my three companions an even more withering glance. "You just had to mention it."
The three young men did their best to look innocent. Wasn't working. Tarrin was the first to break, although Peter looked rather guilty too. "I didn't think he would send you, Dame Sepphora."
That made the soldiers watching us attempt to stifle their snickers as I put my hands on my hips. "Why wouldn't he? That blockhead of a Centaur always sends me on survival runs." I glared at the marshes again. Then without another word I shoved the missive into Peter's hands and darted into the marsh.
Two hours later, I had slowed to a more measured pace due only to the treachery of the ground and the fact that I had absolutely no desire to trip and find myself face to face with a gigantic, disgusting, revolting eel. I was going to kill Oreius. I was also going to do something permanent to those three amadan who managed not only to get the four of us sent on a survival run but we had to wear full armor. Do you have any idea how long it takes to clean marsh out of armor? I hate Oreius. And his evil genius for torment disguised as training.
I smacked the midges that had bitten my neck. And I hated the midges. Between the eels and being eaten alive by midges, the next day and a half was going to be so not fun. I also wasn't going to stop for the night. I refused to sleep where an eel might find me. Nope, that was so not going to happen. And the faster I completed the bloody survival run, the faster I could kill the Kentauri. There was my happy thought for getting through the marshes. And unfortunately for Oreius, I found it a very happy thought.
Trudging through the muck, I grimaced at a large eel slithering nearby and instinctively stepped to the side in order to put more space between me and the revolting creature. My foot went down, the ground gave away, and I toppled sideways into a deeper hole of marsh water. The water closed over my head and I floundered to get my foot free of the mud in spite of the weight of my armor, especially the mail. After a ridiculous amount of thrashing that would make it seem like I had no idea how to swim, I finally kicked free and found some solid ground.
Clinging to a log slick with moss, I gasped then swiped my free hand over my face before opening my eyes. An eel was looking at me. I was clinging to a far too big to be allowed eel. I screamed and shot backwards. I submerged again and choked on the scummy marsh water. I surfaced again just in time to see the eel slithering into the water. The same water I was in. Time to get out! I do not care if it was probably just frightened by the noise or, worse, attracted by the splashing, I was so done with being anywhere near it. I clambered out on an eel-free side and then lit out of there as fast as I could. Forget survival. I just wanted to get out of the blasted marshes. And I was definitely going to kill the Kentauri.
And now the challenge was not to think about the close encounter with the eel as I ran through the marshes. Ugh, just ugh. I hate Oreius. And he was going to die. Slowly. Yep, definitely slowly. Night fell but I didn't dare stop. I'd probably wake up with eels invading my space and feeling even more murderous toward the Kentauri.
Just as the sun set on the second day, I emerged from the marshes, tired, hungry, and utterly filthy. Oreius, Ardon, Cletus, and Peridan were all standing at the edge of the marshes. I didn't even greet them as I stalked past them. Tents had been set up while the other swordmasters waited for those sent on the survival run to emerge. By the looks of things, I was the first one back.
"Dame Sepphora?"
"No." I kept going until I found the travel pack waiting for me. A glance over my shoulder proved that the others were all watching me warily.
Oreius was the only who dared to speak again. "Did anything happen on the survival run?"
The only words that came to mind were ones I shouldn't say. Ahem, which is why when I lost my temper, I yelled those words in Irish. The look of shock on the Kentauri's face was only slightly appeasing. I finally managed to stop yelling creative curses at him and then stalked away, muttering in Irish to myself. I didn't calm down enough to really feel embarrassed about the fact that I had been shouting creative curses, Irish or not, until after I had scrubbed myself clean in the river twice. I would apologize to him…tomorrow.
I washed my hair three times and was very generous with my cinnamon hair rinse before I was satisfied that the stench of the marshes was out. Slipping into a clean shift, I finally opted to only wrap a thick cloak around me for the walk back to camp. My mail armor was dunked in the river to clean the slime off it and my leather cuirass along with my boots, leggings, and both layers of tunics went into the burn pile. Walking back into camp, I tossed the burn items into the appropriate pile and then went directly to my tent.
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Alambiel's display of temper had been…impressive. I didn't know she had those sort of words in her vocabulary. I was also certain that a number of those words had never been used in a curse before, very creative. However, hearing the scouts who monitored the soldiers sent on survival runs give their reports regarding what had happened to her, it was far easier to understand why she lost her temper. She did hate eels with all her heart.
After the last report on where the Kings and Tarrin Peridanson were in the marshes, I decided to check on my beloved and most fiery lady. Entering the tent, I saw that her silver mail had been tossed on one of the stands and her twin knives hung in their sheaths while Alambiel herself had already curled up in bed. Approaching the bed, I leaned down and kissed her damp hair. "Was it as bad as all that, Sweet?"
"Too many eels. And if you keep talking to me, I'll probably forget I plan to apologize for yelling at you and that I managed to talk myself out of killing you."
I chuckled. "I think I can remind you of why you do not wish to kill me." I pulled back the covers then joined her in the bed, putting my arms around her and drawing her close, I trailed kisses up her neck. "You are still the most breathtaking of the soldiers, Wife."
"Oreius." There just a hint of laughter hovering in her voice as she pushed against my chest. "You are in trouble and no amount of kissing is going to get you out of it."
"If you insist." I cupped her cheek, frowning slightly as I noticed the dark shadows beneath her eyes even in the dim light of our tent. "Did you never rest?"
"Eels." She twisted in my arms, presenting me with her back. "And don't talk to me."
I chuckled again and hugged her close. After a while, I spoke into the darkness. "Have you forgiven me, Alambiel?"
She laughed. "Not in the least."
I was going to have to keep a close watch over my armory for the next fortnight.
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A/N: Please Read and Review! Yes, yes, I know I still haven't written the wedding but this one has demanded to cut in line. This is set about eight months into their marriage, by the way. And Kat is going to get revenge...in the next part. Leave a review and let me know what y'all think about it.