I finished this chapter a little early and decided to upload it. I'm already well into chapter four, and I've already written up a few other scenes that may appear later on in the story. I might change the rating due to violence, but that has yet to be decided.
Here's chapter three. Read and enjoy!
Vicious snarling awoke Caley no more than several hours later. Groggily, she sat up, looking over towards the door. Lothar was agitated again—he was growling and his ears were flat against his skull. "Lothar?" she whispered. When he didn't respond, she hissed his name a little louder. "Lothar!" The Mabari glanced at her before poking at her shield with his nose.
A chill ran down her spine as Caley quietly got off of the bed. Quickly, she reached for her boots, pulling them on before moving for the chest she kept. Potions, a first aid kit, and other supplies would be needed, she was sure. Grabbing a large backpack, she shoved everything in the chest inside, before grabbing her sword and shield. "Lothar, I'm going to open the door. We're going to rush them." The Mabari growled in response.
Carefully, holding up her shield, Caley unlocked the door before kicking it open. Lothar rushed out, jumping on the closest man. Ignoring the agonized screams, Caley knocked the next man down by hitting him with her shield. When he fell, she ran her sword through him.
She turned, her wooden shield hitting the enemy soldier's. Without thinking twice about it, Caley pushed him to her left. The soldier stumbled, dropping his shield. It was just the opening that Caley needed. Grabbing onto his shoulder, she thrust the blade into his stomach. He didn't even have the strength to scream as he fell onto the floor.
As soon as the man had fallen, she brought her shield up, taking the opportunity to assess the situation. A soldier was in front of Fergus's room, almost as if he were guarding it.
Caley had never quite understood what it felt like when someone's world came 'crashing down'. Now, however, she finally knew just what it was like. "No!" She snarled. Lothar, having just killed an archer, fed off of Caley's worries. He raced towards the guard, getting a good grip on the man's arm. He dragged him down, allowing Caley to cut into his side with her longsword.
Lothar pushed the door to Fergus's room open, revealing two soldiers. The first one backed away, and Lothar wasted no time pushing him onto the ground, tearing at his throat. Caley saw Oren's body huddled in a corner, with the second soldier standing over him.
"Get away from him!" Caley couldn't afford to waste a single second. The second she reached the man, she bashed her shield into his face. Something, she wasn't quite sure what it was, nor did she care to know, cracked. Caley watched as the man hit the wall and tried to hold onto it for support; his free hand reached for his nose, wiping away the blood that was beginning to pour out of it. He looked pathetic, but Caley wasn't about to let him wiggle out of this mess alive. She closed her eyes as she swung her sword violently, all thoughts on form flying out of the window. She wasn't sure what she had hit—all she knew was that he was on the ground in a puddle of his own blood.
She dropped her sword and shield as she fell to her knees. "Oren," she pulled the boy closer to her, and found that he was holding onto a bloody side. "Damn it, Oren! Speak to me!" Her voice was desperate, and she patted the boy's face until his eyes fluttered open.
Instantly, Caley let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding onto. He was still alive. "Stay with me, Oren. I'm going to patch you up the best I can. I need you to stay alive. I won't let you leave us."
She didn't know the first thing about patching a wound. All she knew was that she had to clean it, stitch it, and bandage it up. Her hands shook as she fumbled with a first aid kit, attempting to find the needle. She could have cried in frustration when she heard her mother's voice behind her. "Oh, my little Oren… Give that to me, Caley!" The Teyrna pulled the first aid kit away from her daughter, and Caley concentrated on cleaning the wound.
The Teyrna was much more efficient in first aid than Caley ever was, and was prepared to stitch the wound right after it was cleaned. "Oren, concentrate on me," Caley whispered as she cleaned the wound. When the boy nodded, she continued. "This will hurt, but I need you to sit still. Think of how proud your daddy will be when he knows how strong you've been."
The second the Teyrna began to stitch the wound, Caley feared that Oren would cry out in pain. She was surprised, and proud, to see that he didn't. He was crying silently, but the young woman could not find fault in that; he really was a trooper, and she would not lose him. She refused to lose him.
Her mother was quick to stitch the wound, much to Caley's relief. "I'll carry him." The Teyrna said as she worked her arms around the tiny boy's shoulders. Once the boy was safe in her mother's arms, Caley grabbed her weapons and made her way towards the door.
"What about mama?" Oren whispered. Caley stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn't spotted Oriana when she had first stormed into the room, but there she was.
It was a rather gruesome sight. The woman's eyes were wide and her throat was slit. Caley wasn't sure what to say to pacify the boy, and neither did her mother. "Your mommy didn't make it, Oren." Caley finally whispered. "But she would want you to be strong. Do you understand, Oren?" He nodded, and Caley forced a smile.
"Caley, your shield…" Her mother trailed off, causing Caley to look at the offending object. Her wooden shield, which had been given to her by Ser Gilmore and held the crest of the House of Cousland, was a mess. The wood had cracked, a result, Caley was sure, from ramming it against the face of the bastard that had injured Oren.
She looked around the hall, spotting one of the fallen soldiers. "I'll just have to steal from a dead man." She muttered. The thought of touching a dead body disgusted her more than anything, but she managed to bend down and wiggle the shield out of his hand.
What she saw when she held it up, however, made her drop it immediately. "Arl Howe!" Her hands began to shake, but this time, it was caused by pure anger. "I'll kill him; I swear to you I'll kill him!"
"Why would he do this?" The Teyrna asked, her voice sounding panicked.
"He's jealous. He wants Highever." Caley bent down, grabbing the shield and stomping towards the exit. "He attacks while our troops are gone."
"You think he delayed his knights on purpose, Caley?" The idea that Arl Howe, one of her husband's closest friends, would be so power-hungry scared her. "What about Bryce? He never came to bed!"
Caley's brows furrowed. She didn't want to think about the possibility that her father was already dead. "He might have stayed up late with Arl Howe." She spat out. "Come on, we have to find him!"
When they entered the courtyard, Caley was expecting a group of the Arl's knights waiting for them. What she saw was the guard dutifully disposing the last of the knights in the area. "Teyrna Eleanor! Lady Cousland!" One of them, a young guard Caley had sparred with on many occasions, ran up to them. "By the Maker, I'm relieved to see you safe and sound." When his eyes settled on Oren, he flinched. "How could they?" he whispered.
"There's no time to worry about the 'whys'." Caley heard her mother say. "We need to find Bryce."
"Allow us to escort you, Teyrna Eleanor. We'll keep you three safe." The group had gathered around. Each of them had the same determined look in their eyes—they would keep them safe, even if they had to give up their lives to do so.
"I'm fighting with you." Caley answered. "I'm not here to be protected. I'm here to protect." The guard knew better than to argue with her.
"Caley, wait," when the woman turned around to face her mother, a key was being pushed towards her. "It'll open the treasury. I'm sure that there will be things in there that'll be of use to you. After we go there, we'll head to the Servant's exit. The Arl's men probably have the rest of the place surrounded."
Caley grabbed the key and nodded. "Follow me," she ordered the men. She felt extremely fortunate that the Arl's men were nowhere to be seen. Caley was able to enter the treasury without a single mishap. "Guard the door over here. I won't be long." The men nodded, allowing Caley, Lothar and the Teyrna to enter.
"Grab the family sword, Caley," her mother said as soon as they had entered. "Use it when you're to fight Arl Howe." There was a grave look in her eyes, and Caley could only nod as she threw her now useless sword to the side and picked up the longsword she only dreamed of holding. Right next to it was the shield of Highever; Caley grabbed it without a second thought, testing the weight.
Though much heavier than the equipment she had previously been using, Caley felt as though the sword and shield had been made for her. "I won't put them down until this blade runs red with Howe's blood," she spat. "He'll pay for what he's done, I swear it."
She considered leaving with just the sword and shield, but a glint of metal caught her attention. Steel armor lay in a heap in the corner, unused, but obviously waiting for its chance to be worn in battle. Without as much as a second thought, Caley worked her way out of the leathers and into the soft cotton underclothes. The armor was heavy, but it wasn't completely unbearable. When she finished adjusting the armor, she grabbed the helmet off of the floor, dusting it off before putting it on.
"You really look like a Battle Maiden, my daughter," her mother said. "If anyone defeats Arl Howe, I'm positive it'll be you."
Her mother's words filled her with anger. Arl Howe was a traitorous bastard, and he needed to die as soon as possible. However, her mother made it seem as though killing the Arl was going to be a hard task, one that would take months to do. Caley's eyes narrowed as her grip on the hilt of the family sword tightened. "Caley, listen to me." The woman turned, looking up at her mother. "There's no way for you to kill the Arl now."
"There must be a way!" she snapped. "I just have to find him. As soon as I find him, I'll cut his head off. I'll kill him for killing Oriana and harming Oren. I'll…" Caley trailed off, angrily wiping the tears away from her face. "He doesn't deserve to live for what he's done."
"Don't get hot-headed, Caley," her mother's voice was laden with worry. "You can't get killed now. You and Fergus are important to Highever. If you don't survive, we're all doomed." When Caley's lips turned up in an angry scowl, Teyrna Cousland touched her daughter's arm. "We need to find your father."
"Let's go." Her response was curt, and she all but stormed out of the treasury. When she opened the door, her troops looked over at her, waiting for her orders. Lothar found his way next to her side as she spoke. "We're going to make our way to the main hall. My father might be with the knights."
Without as much as a glance behind her, Caley made her way to the front of the small crowd, leading them through the courtyard of Castle Cousland. The castle was a mess, and had taken a lot of damage during the initial battle. Bodies littered the floor, and Caley had to step over dead bodies at nearly every corner.
It was disgusting. Blood was everywhere, and no matter where Caley took her next step, her boots always seemed to find their way into a puddle of some poor man's blood. The Teyrna was able to deal with the gory mess by concentrating on Oren; the boy had fallen asleep in her arms, and she was obsessed with making sure that he was still breathing. The guards under Caley's command kept their eyes trained ahead of them, almost as if they were content with ignoring the bodies of their friends.
Perhaps it was for the best, Caley decided. Seeing Oriana dead was enough of a shock, and she almost wished she hadn't spotted the woman's body.
She pushed the thought aside as soon as she heard the sound of fighting up ahead. "You two," she yelled, pointing her sword at the two men closest to her mother. "Protect Oren and your Teyrna!"
"Yes, Lady Cousland!" They said in unison.
"The rest of you, follow me. We're to rout the enemy. They are not allowed to escape." Grasping the Cousland sword, Caley rushed into the room. It was in total disarray, with soldiers of either side pitted against each other. The Cousland guard were outnumbered, but the enemy was poorly trained.
Caley grabbed a man by the neck, pulling him down as she shoved her sword into his back. Releasing her hold, she yanked her sword out and kicked him into a crowd of his friends. They didn't bother catching him, and allowed him to fall onto the floor with a loud crash. "That's the Cousland whelp," one of them, a man with several missing teeth, said. "Kill her, and the Arl will reward us handsomely."
They were about to surround her, but the Cousland guard rushed to her aid. The Guard was a determined and loyal group, Caley noted. "Lady Cousland, we fight for you and the Teyrn and Highever!" One of them, an extremely young man, yelled out. He swung his greatsword with enough force to cleave through two men.
"I'll need your strength," she called back. Her sword skewered the man in front of her, causing him to double over, making the perfect target for a knee to the head. He fell over, screaming I pain. "Don't get killed here, you got it?"
"I won't let you down." He answered automatically, stepping backwards in time to narrowly avoid getting hit with a man's shortsword. He was extremely strong considering his age, and didn't hesitate to slice clean through the man's armor. The Amaranthine soldier's agonized scream rang through Caley's skull, but she dared not glance back to see what he looked like. What she saw instead was Ser Roderick Gilmore. He was absolutely determined to cut through the soldiers in front of him, and did so without the least bit of trouble.
At one point, the Cousland guard had been outnumbered. In a matter of minutes, they managed to rid the main hall of enemy soldiers. The soldiers that had been with Ser Gilmore looked exhausted, but ready to jump up at any moment.
Their determination had to be honored. The second the door was being bashed on, and Ser Gilmore screamed "Hold it back!" everyone scrambled to their feet, pushing against the large double doors with all of their strength. "We can't allow them to pass." He was about to help his guards with the task when Caley grabbed his arm.
"Come with us, Roderick," she said. "We need to find my father. We need you."
"As do they, my lady," he whispered sadly. "Staying here will buy you more time. You and the Teyrna will find the Teyrn and be able to escape. I will stay here and serve as a distraction. I'll make sure that you and your family gets out alive."
"Roderick, please," her voice sounded strained, almost as if she knew that if he stayed in the hall, he would die. "Come with us. Come with me." She didn't want to leave him; how could she? She loved him, and wanted nothing more than for him to come with her.
Gilmore saw the sorrow in her eyes. No matter how much he wished to, there was nothing that he would be able to do to take it away. He needed to stay, for her sake. He would become the sacrifice that would ultimately save her life. The two of them stood unmoving, until the door was rammed into again. Hastily, Gilmore bent down, tilting Caley's head upward he leaned forward.
Their kiss was brief, but perhaps it was just what Caley needed to realize that he cared. "I'm doing this for you." He whispered. "Now, go. Find the Teyrn. If you survive, I will know that I did the right thing." His eyes grew soft as he watched Caley take a step backwards. A guard that had escorted her and the Teyrna into the main hall grasped her arm, bringing her back down into reality.
All she could do was nod dumbly at Gilmore. "Survive." She whispered. "You have to try to survive." He nodded, and so did she. "I want to meet you again. I'll never forgive you if I don't get the chance." It was almost painful to look at him. Quickly, she turned and ran outside to the Courtyard.
Lothar, on the other hand, stayed behind for a moment. He looked at Gilmore, before whining. "I know, boy. You must want me to come for Caley's sake." The Mabari barked, and Gilmore smiled. "I can't do that. That's why I need you to look after her. You're nearly all she has left." Gilmore pat the dog's head, before whispering, "I know you'll protect her, since I'm unable to." The dog knew a dismissal when he heard one, and immediately ran after his mistress.
"We have to head for the Servant's entrance," the Teyrna told Caley when the young woman reached her. "Your father wasn't here, so he must be waiting for us to escape." Caley nodded, waving her arm overhead to call the few remaining guards to follow. It was lucky for them that the way to the exit was surprisingly void of any life. The Arl's soldiers were nowhere in sight.
"Pup? Eleanor?"
The sound of the Teyrn's pained voice caused the party to race forward. "We're here, father!" Caley exclaimed, bending down to look at her father. He was lying on the stone floor in a pool of blood.
"Finally..." He said as he winced, holding on tighter to his wound. When he spotted the Teyrna with Oren in his arms, his eyes widened. "Please, tell me he still lives!"
"For now," Caley answered. "You will, too, if we can get you out of here."
"Pup, I won't make it." He shook his head, leaning heavily against Caley. "I want you, your mother, and Oren to escape." His eyes traveled from Caley's and onto his wife's. Smiling, he continued. "The Cousland line must not die. My family must not die."
Caley already knew what her father would say if she insisted that she should stay. He would refuse her, and tell her that she needed to leave. "You, pup… You need to find… Fergus." He seemed unable to concentrate, until a large figure blocked the light from the lamps outside of the small room. "Duncan, you live." The Teyrn's breathing was ragged, almost as if his strength had been sapped away from him. "Could you convince this… this idiot that she must leave?"
"You know I would do no better than you, my friend," Duncan said as he took a place next to the Teyrna. "She has to make the choice herself."
"She won't want to leave. I need her to live!" The Teyrn's voice sounded desperate, and Duncan's eyes closed slowly.
"If she agrees, I will ensure her a safe journey away from Castle Cousland," Duncan said. Bryce seemed to brighten up, although he knew what Duncan was going to say next. "I want her to join the Grey Wardens in return."
"Will I be able to face Arl Howe if I do so, Duncan?" Caley asked. "Or will your order prevent me from doing so?"
"We will not stop you from performing your duty to your House, Caley." Duncan replied.
"Please, pup, tell me this means you made your decision." Teyrn Bryce Cousland sounded desperate. "Promise me you'll escape."
"I promise, father." She whispered reluctantly. She felt like a coward; she was about to run away, and leave her father behind to die.
"No!" he snapped, almost as if he had the ability to read her mind. "Don't think of this as abandonment. You must live. Either way, I… I'll die. You'll escape, and you'll live to fight Howe!"
"I understand," she replied, fighting back the tears. "Come, mother." As soon as Caley stood up, she felt Oren being passed to her. Instinctively, she grabbed him.
The Teyrna was sure to make sure that Oren's transition was gentle. "I won't be coming, my young Battle Maiden. I will stay with your father. I'll make sure that everyone who steps through that door dies instantly. I won't allow them to reach you."
"But mother!" Caley looked furious. "You can't stay here. I'm leaving father. Do you expect me to leave you, too?"
"I do." The woman's frown smoothed out into smile, and Caley knew that this would be the last time she saw her both of her parents. "Go on darling, don't keep Duncan waiting. I know that you'll make us proud. Take care of Oren for me."
Caley stood silent for a long moment, before she finally spoke up. "I love you two."
"Be strong, pup." The Teyrn smiled at her, and Caley forced one back.
"Lady Cousland," the young guard with the greatsword stepped closer to the Teyrn and Teyrna. "Please, don't worry. We'll guard the Teyrn and Teyrna to the death."
Duncan grasped her shoulder, a gentle reminder that it was time to leave. This was it, she figured. This was how she was to start a new life. She just lost Gilmore, her mother, and her father, all in one night.
Next to her, Lothar whined. He was still there, he was reminding her. He would never leave her, no matter what. He would always be there for her, and she could depend on him no matter what.
Although the Mabari made her worries disappear momentarily, her thoughts wandered back to the man she had once thought of as family.
Howe needed to pay. That much Caley knew, but how would she manage to pull it off? Being a murderer wasn't something she was prepared for, and the thought left her sick to her stomach. With the adrenaline of battle gone, a small part of her wished to take the coward's route, to leave the murder of Arl Howe to someone else—to Fergus. That small part couldn't stand the thought of murdering a man who was once a father figure to her. The other half seethed with anger, telling her that she needed to do this, for her family if not for herself.
When a man kills your father, you kill him; Caley told herself, if you do not take revenge, you do not honor your father's memory.
Caley held Oren closer to her as she followed Duncan out of Castle Cousland. I will not dishonor your memory by letting that fiend live. Arl Howe will die by my hand, father. I swear it!