Sword of Mercy
Part 2 of 6
Hunters
The elf sat by the fire, hands up trying to warm them. The man with the silver hair and the spikey armor sat across the fire, watching curiously.
Tread lightly apprentice, the voice warned, even those who would be our allies may not understand.
The young elf nodded.
I understand teacher.
The battle had been brutal; Claudius' men despite having superior numbers were no match for the scarred woman and her elven companion. The two flew at the hunters in a blur. The elf watched their attacks and reveled. For so long the elf had been helpless, treated like nothing by these people.
It was…gratifying to see them punished.
These are two great warriors apprentice; fortune favors us in their discovery. From these two you can learn more than you ever could from me.
Maybe they will help us? Maybe they will help rescue the others?
The voice considered this carefully before responding.
The world is a cruel place apprentice; if these be mercenaries they may not help a solitary elf without any coin to pay them. The others may be lost.
The elf refused to believe that, there had to be a way to convince these two to aid them, even If only to help make the world a better place.
Because that is why the elf agreed to become the teacher's apprentice.
To make the world a better place.
IOI
Fenris was not quite sure what to make of their newest companion.
The elf was small, even for their kind, with bright green eyes and short brown hair that was so light it was almost blonde. The boy fidgeted constantly, under his ragged tunic, Fenris could make out the bandages that covered his ribs. When he shifted just right the young elf would gasp.
Fenris snorted angrily, he remembered being kicked by Danarius on occasion, he suspect that is probably what had happened to the boy.
"We could change those for you if you like?" Fenris offered, he started to approach but stopped at the boy's frightened look, he looked ready to bolt for the wilderness.
""I will not harm you." the Tevinter elf said backing down, his voice calm and soothing. It would not do to have the boy run off before Hawke had a chance to talk to him.
Where was Hawke? Fenris had left her to interrogate the mage almost a half hour ago and she still had not returned.
He prayed that she was not out there right now torturing the man. Hopefully she had not fallen that far.
He had no love for slavers, and cared nothing for their safety. His concern was only for Hawke. He knew the places where hatred could take you.
He would do his best to be sure that she did not go to them.
The boy watched him warily, this was foolish, there was no need to stare at each other in fear all night. He would take the initiative.
"I am called Fenris," he said to the young one, "may I ask who you are?"
"Ame…" the boy paused wincing against the tightness of his bandages, "Amos," he finally replied, "My name is Amos."
If not a lie, it was definitely not the truth, he let it pass for now.
"I bid you welcome Amos," Fenris bowed his head slightly, "I find myself curious, what would bring out so many hunters to capture one so small?"
Amos clammed up, his mouth in a tight line.
"I hold no love for slaver s Amos," the Tevinter elf growled, "I was a slave myself for many years, but I finally freed myself."
"You…you were a slave? You were…a slave like me?"
He nodded.
Fenris reached carefully into his pack, producing a bright shiny apple. Amos's eyes widened with hunger as he regard the piece of fruit.
Starving, Fenris knew what that felt like too.
He tossed the apple to the boy, he looked at it carefully for a moment, deciding if it was safe to eat it, but hunger finally won out over caution. The boy tore into the apple with his teeth, savoring the sweet juices within. It may have been a banquet from the look of ecstasy in Amos's eyes.
Fenris waited for the boy to finish.
"There is another one in my pack and some water if you agree to answer my questions."
Amos paused, as if listening to someone, finally the boy nodded.
It was a hard thing teaching someone who was a slave to trust, Fenris remembered how long it had taken him to open up to Hawke.
Hawke, where was that woman anyway!
IOI
Hawke made her way back to camp, a few new dents in her champion's armor, and a bit of blood on her face…
None of it hers.
The mage Claudius had put up a bit of a fight, but in the end he had told Hawke everything…he had talked until he ran out of breath.
A shame that he did not have more in him.
She had cornered him between a pair of boulders out in the woods; he had tried to run when the last of his guard had fallen.
She had no intention of letting the bastard escape.
He had tried to catch her in a crushing prison, but she had cleansed it. He had tried to call on the power of his blood, but she smited him.
The man's shock turned to fear then anger.
"Templar whore!" he raged.
Hawke had smiled.
She was no Templar, but for three years she had paid that broken down ex-Templar Samson a sovereign a week to teach her the Templar disciplines. Anders had been furious when he found out, but she had disarmed him with a simple kiss.
"Know your enemies love," she had whispered suggestively. They had gone on to know each other several times that night.
She pushed those memories back, she wasn't that woman anymore. She had to be cold, she had to be hard.
She had to survive.
"You're going to tell me everything," she purred, bringing her sword to the mage's throat, "Do that and I will leave you in peace.
The man's Adam's apple bobbed furiously as he nodded an affirmative.
He told her everything: whom he served, why they were here, how many had come with them.
Once he had finished she raised her sword, fury and hate flashing in her blue eyes.
"YOU PROMISED TO LET ME LIVE!" the mage had wailed.
"I promised to leave you in peace," Hawke said blandly, "I never said how many pieces that was."
I told you I would break your heart.
The rage came upon her; she released it on the slaver.
She had ended it quickly, her rage sated…for now.
Hawke returned to camp with spring in her step; she could barely suppress the savage grin that wanted to come to her face.
There were more, more slavers and a Magister Lord about three days journey from here. They would seek them out, and rescue the slaves that were travelling with them.
Then the Magister would die, his men would die, they would all die.
She did not think that it would be hard to convince Fenris of the worthiness of their goal. He had never shied away from fighting slavers.
She found Fenris sitting by the fire with the boy, the young elf munched happily on an apple.
"Hawke," she could hear the concern in her companion's voice.
"I'm fine Fenris," she said dismissively walking past him. The Tevinter elf stiffened, but said nothing more.
"This is Amos," he volunteered.
"Hello," Hawked said warmly, well as warmly as she could manage these days. "I'm Marian Hawke."
Amos nodded a greeting, his mouth full of apple.
"Amos escaped from a Tevinter caravan two nights ago," Fenris informed her, "They were making for…"
"An old Tevinter ruin a day's travel outside of Starkhaven," Hawke interrupted, filling in what she had gotten out of the now deceased mage, "built into a cliff along the Minanter River. They have over thirty slaves with them. Part of some kind of blood sacrifice the Magister hopes to make."
At the mention of a sacrifice, Amos leapt up his face panicked.
"Please you must help us!" the boy cried, "He is going to kill Cyrion; he is going to kill all of them!"
"Calm down," Hawke said soothingly, "We won't let these bastards hurt your friends. You have my word on that."
The boy calmed, he smiled gratefully at her.
For the first time in months she felt warm. She felt like herself…if only for a moment.
"Hawke," Fenris looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
"Yes," She asked her eyes narrowing.
"Just the two of us?" he asked.
"Yes,"
"Hawke," he growled, tried to make the woman see reason, "A Magister would not travel so far from the Imperium without support."
"We killed twenty here," she said blandly, "He has fifty more with him, including two lesser mages."
"And we will just run in and kill them all?"
"Yes." Hawke said flatly, her tone allowed for no discussion.
Fenris turned to his tent, muttering Tevinter curses under his breath.
Hawke felt a twinge of shame for her brusque behavior, but dismissed it. Now was not a time for words it was a time for action. She turned to the young elf.
"Are you fit to travel Amos?"
The boy nodded.
"Then we leave at first light," Hawke said flatly.
She would not let the Magister kill those people.
She would not.
IOI
They are dangerous ones, this wolf and this bird of prey, we must be cautious.
It was all Amos could do to keep up with the two warriors, Amos could feel the sweat soaking the elf's clothes, Maker save them, but they could not stop.
They set a brisk pace, and it was clear that Ser Fenris was angry at Ser Hawke, though Amos could not tell why.
The wolf fears that this is a mistake, teacher chimed in, he may be right.
Amos did not know how teacher could say such a thing. Cyrion had been kind to them, the others too. If it was not for them they would never have escaped.
But without us there can be no ritual, Teacher reminded Amos, remember that apprentice, we may be destroying all that the others have given up for us.
Amos did not care. They had to save Cyrion and the others they had…
Amos felt warmth running down his legs. He paused, what was the matter… what was…
Blood ran free onto the sandy ground.
Amos screamed.
IOI
Hawke turned, drawn by the elf's panicked screams. Her battle senses were on full alert. Fenris spun as well his sword drawn.
She found the elf sitting in the dirt, his hands coated with blood.
"It won't stop," Amos wailed fearfully, "it won't stop!"
Hawke's eyes wandered over the elf seeing no injury, if Amos was not injured then…
Then she got it.
Fourteen or fifteen, the elf was about the right age.
Oh Maker, the poor dear.
She pulled the elf into an embrace trying to calm poor Amos.
"It is okay," she cooed, "don't worry."
Amos sobbed at Hawke, the elf knew that she knew.
"Hawke," Fenris was at her side, "What is going on. Is Amos alright?"
"She is fine Fenris," Hawke replied, "just a little scared that is all."
Fenris was about to ask what she meant when he got it too.
She.
"I'm sorry," Amos whimpered, "I…I have been Amos for almost eight years now. Cyrion hid me from the Magister. He had a… taste for elven girls. Cyrion didn't want him to…"
Amos broke down again.
Hawke did her best to calm the girl, because that was what she was, a young elven girl. Hidden from Magisters that would have done Maker knows what to her.
This Cyrion had been very brave, the girl had been to.
"My name is Amethyne," the elf girl said nervously, she had almost forgotten her real name; it had been so long since she had said it out loud.
"Hello Amethyne," Hawke said grinning warmly, "welcome back."