The castle corridors were cool despite the summer heat, the humidity if not the warmth penetrating the thick stone walls. The moon cast bright shadows of spectral light through the narrow windows onto the smooth gray stones. Ordinarily, little could persuade Leo to leave his bed at such a ghostly hour, but a strange sound had wakened him. At first he thought it must be some sort of night beast, but the wailing had persisted more soft and mournful than any wolf's cry and no green or golden eyes glittered in the darkness beyond the parapets. The cry came again, a queer smothered howl, a wailing moan that sounded frighteningly close. It was not until the mysterious beast sniffled that he realized the cry was human. As eerie the noise, Leo was not one to put much faith in superstitions and so crept further down the moonlit hall in search of a more corporeal phantom. His quest led him up to the battlements. Axe in hand he peered above the edge of the stone stairway only to discover his weapon unnecessary.
A figure stood hunched over the edge of the battlements its upper body hidden, resting in the space between two of the giant machinations. Leo squinted in the darkness, the shape indistinct in the shadows. It wore the under part of a knight's uniform; blouse, boots and breeches. The soldier howled into its folded arms, the smothered sob echoing off the empty stone in the otherwise still and heavy air. Despite the August heat the noise prickled chills down Leo's spine. Silently, he lowered himself to sit on the cold stairs, hidden from view in the stairwell. He had no idea who it was or even if it was a man or woman venting their grief into the emptiness of the small hours of the night. This had been intended as a solitary vigil and so Leo dared not reveal himself. To do so would only shame the mourner further. Instead he kept his silence, hands and chin resting on the hilt of his axe letting his own tears fall noiselessly to the step below. The tragedy was unknown to him but the grief was real, as heavy and oppressive as the humidity in the still air. It was all he could offer and so he stayed until the mourner's cries had dwindled into whimpers and finally exhausted silence.
Leo's head abruptly jerked up as another wail pierced the stifling air. He'd stayed too long and fallen asleep. Surely she'd discover him if he didn't move and move now. He tried to replace his axe but his hand closed over thin air. With equal surprise he discovered the floor was not of cold stone but dusty packed earth. He'd been dreaming. Dreaming of a night several years past, of a sight few had ever seen. Leo took a moment to remember when and where he was. The candle had burnt itself out and the embers of the fire glowed soft and red as the flames took their own rest. A second choked sob pulled him from his reverie. Aurella. Tossing a handful of straw into the fire pot Leo crawled to where she lay, the rejuvenated flames leaping up to offer waving orange light. Aurella lay trembling on the barn floor, her shape cast in curious relief by the weird glow; eyes closed yet in sleep, her teeth clenched and features contorted in pain.
Skin that had seemed cold and white as marble in the rain now ran slick with sweat and yellow as candle wax. He put a hand to her head to confirm that she burned with more than warmth from the small fire. Leo cringed. Had he stuck his hand into the flames his fingers would have been scorched less. Prying the quilt from her knotted fingers he drew the edge down enough to inspect her wound. Her veins seared closed, the wound no longer bled but instead wept a sticky, discolored fluid, the flesh surrounding the horrid scar hot and swollen a blazing red. An infected wound was always dangerous, particularly one so large and so near her heart. If allowed to fester it would surely kill her. Replacing the bandage Leo glanced out the broken window. The rain had stopped but the sun had not yet returned. Goddess alone knew what time it was, how long it had been, whether the horse had reached camp or Brass Castle. He could only hope and pray that help would come in time.
Aurella stirred in the molding straw. Drawing a shuddering breath she opened bleary eyes and glanced at their dim surroundings. She opened her lips to speak but could manage little more than a faded whisper.
"Has…?"
Leo shook his head. "No, no one has come yet. Reilan should have reached either camp or Brass Castle by now. Hopefully someone will be here soon."
She nodded quietly. Again Leo reached and brushed a few wayward chestnut strands from her eyes. She did not flinch this time, but watched with a sort of detached confusion. The focus did not last. Eyelids drooping and gaze turning inward, her head began to list to one side. The chilling realization that he was losing her prompted Leo to rapid action. Frantically he dug through his equipment finally closing his fist around a flask of medicine at the very bottom of the saddlebag. Pulling out the cork, he held the little black bottle to her lips.
"Here, you must drink this," he instructed gently, lifting her head with his free hand to help her. She did her best to swallow the bitter liquid but could manage no more than a few mouthfuls before she began to gag. Leo stopped the bottle and set it aside. Aurella lay still, her breathing labored, struggling to stay awake. If she fell asleep goddess knew if she would ever wake again, she had already soaked her uniform and half the straw in blood and the fever only served to weaken her further. She had to stay awake until help arrived.
"You know, you never answered my question," he rumbled softly.
Aurella blinked deliberately, trying to regain her focus. "What question?"
"Why did you enter service?"
"Oh…" she paused for a moment, seeming to weigh and consider her words. When she spoke again it was with an air of one who no longer cared.
"It was better than the vocation my parents chose for me."
"What was that?"
"Marriage to a slavering old boar over twice my age."
Leo shared in her cringe at those words. "Why would such an arrangement be necessary?
"Because my father was a foolish man unable to balance his own accounts. His debts had to be paid somehow."
"With your beauty." Leo answered, voice sad and face grim. Aurella gave an amused snort.
"Beauty? That belonged to my younger sister. She fled to the service of the goddess to avoid such a fate. My father had no son to apprentice since my brother ran away. He was always talking about sailing away on one of the merchant ships. I suppose that is what he did. Heaven alone knows where he is now. That left only me."
"And so you joined the army instead."
"It was better than joining the circus."
They both smiled. She sighed and gazed through the darkness at the thatched ceiling above.
"What is it?"
"Nothing," she answered with a slight shake of her head. It was certainly not 'nothing' but Leo hesitated to press the matter. Perhaps he ought to apologize.
"Forgive me I…"
Aurella cut his apology short, weakly waving it away with one hand. "My family oddities are not your fault Sir Leo. Please do not concern yourself."
"I should not have questioned you."
"As I said, don't worry about it."
There was nothing to say to this and so Leo remained silent.
"You don't…" she let the unfinished sentence hang. Leo looked up, hoping she would continue. "You don't know very much about me." she finished.
"No, I do not." Leo's agreement was shamefaced. "I should like to change that if possible?"
She was handsome in her way, even with the distortion of pain and illness. The firelight throwing her features into sharp relief made him think of the granite maidens that stood beneath the city fountains. She was not a aristocratic beauty like Lady Chris, silver on her head and amethysts in her eyes. Instead Aurella's sculpted features told of a simpler elegance, a treasure of strength and will. Not that Lady Chris could be measured by looks alone, yet Aurella held an attraction far different from that of Zexen's Silver Maiden. Unlike the four other knights Leo had never had any amorous designs towards his captain. Certainly he loved her and followed her as a loyal soldier and friend. Indeed, his attitude toward his Captain-General had been that of a devoted uncle, a mentor, and not a contemporary. Strangely, what he felt towards Aurella was something else entirely. What it was exactly, Leo could not name, but it was there nonetheless.
"Why?"
"Because…" Leo forced himself to look into her eyes. It was difficult not to lose both nerve and thought but he clung stubbornly to both. Her voice was so soft and weak...this might be the only chance he would ever have. Swallowing hard on the lump in his throat, he spoke:
"You seem like someone whom I could speak to. Not just about battle and politics but about whatever you or I cared to talk about."
Aurella smiled a little at his remark. Leo went on. "You are a valiant knight, an able commander, a trusted officer, and a loyal soldier. I fear the day I might face you in battle. You have exquisite taste in weapons and you use either with equal skill. Your form is flawless and I have seen few in the corps- men or women- approach your strength. Military merits aside… I have seen how you behave towards your squire, your men. Behind that scowl of yours is a tender heart and a kind smile. I know; I have seen it. I had hoped…you might turn that smile towards me…"
His face must surely have grown as red as the fire as he realized that last bit had slipped out. Feeling an abominable fool, when he dared to look again Aurella was staring quietly up at him, her shadowed face almost unreadable in the dim firelight. That same flickering light that offered so much shelter betrayed a tiny sparkle trailing down her cheek. She was crying. Was she in pain? What had he said to upset her so? He reached to catch one of the glistening drops but she turned away. When she spoke, it was in little more than a whisper.
"As I said…" she swallowed, "you know very little about me."
There had been rumor and scandal aplenty concerning Aurella and the first crop of women in the Zexen army. Most of it had been so wildly ridiculous that even the simplest fool would not have believed it. Less well-known had been many mean-spirited pranks and whispers of vicious hazing. What stubbornly persisted, even after youth had begun to leave the first women in ranks, were the murmurings of loose morals, favors gained through flirtation, and positions abused.
"Aurella I…" he did not notice until the words had flown that he had forgotten her title. "I do not believe invented epitaphs. Not a one had any truth to it."
She sighed, a tired sound both deep and heavy. "I could not afford to be dismissed after less than a month of training."
Silence hung heavy as Leo sat motionless, shocked into silence waiting for his insides to thaw. Aurella spoke before he had time to collect his tangled thoughts. She was looking through him more than at him. Though her eyes were focused on his, he felt her looking deeper, searching. Strangely, he found himself doing the same.
"I have no name," she breathed, her voice no more than a shallow whisper, "no titles, no lands, not even a father. I have absolutely nothing, and yet..." She raised one trembling hand and reached to touch his face. Leo caught her fingers and held her icy palm against his cheek.
"You have shown me kindness," she lowered her eyes briefly, her faint words catching in her throat. "For that, I thank you."
Leo's heart, chilled by her earlier hint suddenly swelled, lodging itself in his throat. A smile stole across his lips, pressing warm tears from his eyes. The fire had burnt itself low, the weak and shadowed light of dawn filtering thin fingers into the dimness of the shed. The clouds still gathered thick above the dripping forest, blotting most of what little light the groggy sun might provide. Water dripped from the eaves and branches outside as early birds chirped their damp morning song. Leo swallowed hard on his rising heart and tried to find his tongue.
"I would have done the same for anyone. I value my men- and women," he managed, his words soft and quiet. Aurella smiled, her remaining blood staining her cheeks softly pink. He took her cold hand and held it in both of his.
"Thank you…" Leo had to strain to hear her fading words. "I'm glad I got to hear that. And thank you…for trying…"
Leo blinked. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped his words in order to hear Aurella's.
"I had wanted a soldier's death…" she breathed, "to die in battle from the stroke of steel and not…" Her words dwindled into silence.
"Not the way your friend was taken." Leo finished for her. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain of a memory that would never fully heal.
"You will get your chance," he assured her, stroking her hand. "You will fight many more battles before that happens."
Aurella smiled faintly, mirroring his expression of forced hope and quiet sadness. She did not believe she would live. Leo tried in vain to hold his tears but found them spilling over his cheeks and into his beard. Her hand tightened around his briefly.
"Don't cry…"
"Then do not say things like that." Leo insisted with a hearty sniff. "You will survive. As your commanding officer I forbid otherwise."
She gave a regretful smile at his feigned sternness, forcing Leo's acted scowl back into an expression of anxious concern. He had no doubt she would attempt to obey orders, but this might be one mission she had no hope of carrying out. Her body betrayed her exhaustion, the weak morning sun revealing details that had been hidden in the darkness.
She gave his hand a feeble squeeze. Leo returned it and watched as her lips formed soundless words. Unable to cling to consciousness any longer her eyelids slowly fell as her head began to list. Leo caught her cheek in his palm, the deadly heat a painful contrast to her frigid hands.
"Aurella? Aurella wake up!" he pleaded, shaking her shoulder. "Stay with me! You must stay awake! Help will be here soon!"
Eyes closed, body limp in his hands, she gave no answer. Shallow breaths, each lighter than the last, were her only response. Placing two fingers beneath her jaw he tested her pulse. Her blood still flowed but as weakly as her breath. She lived yet, but for how much longer the goddess alone knew. Fighting down panic Leo desperately tried to think of something, anything he could do to help her. The miniature thunder of hoof beats sent his thoughts flying. There was no time for armor. Grabbing his axe he pressed himself against the wall and cautiously eyed the muddy forest track leading up to their hiding place. A standard issue shirt, breeches and boots would not provide much protection, but strangely he found the thought of his own demise trivial. If he could keep her safe long enough for help to arrive so much the better, but if she should die either from fever or the thrust of an enemy sword… Leo gave himself a mental shake. Now was not the time. He would do his best to defend both of them.
He squinted through the branches at the trespassers. Horsemen. Two of them. Either young men or women judging by their build. Their allegiance obscured by distance Leo kept to his hiding place. They were closer now; their progress seemed slow, hesitant. Oh goddess they were probably tracking Reilan's trail left in the mud! Willing himself to stay calm Leo continued to eye the horsemen, the summer sun finally pushing shafts of light through the trees, the golden rays reflecting silver off polished armor and- sweet goddess- the orange and gold heraldry of Zexen uniforms! Borus and Percival! Leo nearly wept with relief. Dropping his axe he dashed outside into the thick mud.
"Borus! Percival!" he shouted, flagging them with one arm. The two younger men gawked from their mounts as he ran towards them. Percival was first to recover.
"Leo!" he exclaimed, shock melting into joy. "Thank goddess you're safe! When your horse rode into camp without you we didn't know what to think!"
"You certainly gave us all quite a scare." Borus added, urging his mount forward. "It took us a moment to realize those weren't your boots. Your squire couldn't stop bawling long enough to explain."
"You aren't hurt are you?" Percival asked, gripping Leo's shoulder with one hand and patting the other up and down Leo's arm, checking for broken bones. Leo waved him off.
"No, no I'm fine. It was Sergeant-Captain Aurella who was injured."
Percival blinked. "Aurella?"
"Yes. We must hurry, I'm afraid she may not have much longer."
Borus was already assembling the pieces to the travois.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"Inside."
"Thank the goddess…"
The words were distant, muted as if the speaker were miles away and hidden within a dense fog. Aurella felt as if she were in a fog herself, her mind drowning in misty vapors of exhaustion. A rumbling sigh of relief was followed by a question and then a reply from a lighter-voiced second speaker.
"And she should make a full recovery?"
"Yes. The wound has healed well, but she's lost quite a bit of blood. It will take her a few weeks to regain her strength. Don't worry, she'll be up and terrorizing the troops again in no time at all."
"You have my gratitude."
"We would not have been able to do much if you hadn't treated her first."
The original voice grumbled something about butchers and blind men. The second chuckled.
"Perhaps, but it saved her life."
Footsteps echoed as one of the speakers exited. Wood creaked and fabric rustled as the remaining voice shifted. Aurella's awareness stirred and awoke fully as a gentle touch brushed stray strands of hair from her face. Trying to blink away the woolen feeling in her head, she looked to see who was fussing with her hair. Squinting, she realized with vague astonishment that Sir Leo sat no more than an arm's length away. Dressed in his uniform but without his armor he looked only slightly less imposing than usual. He smiled at her blank stare, the upturn of his lips softening his rough features.
"You're awake," he stated, relief plain in every line of his face.
"Almost…" Aurella groaned, rubbing her face with one hand. She'd intended to sit up but was stopped short by a sharp pain hidden beneath a wide bandage wrapped around her middle. Oh yes, she'd taken a spear to the gut during the last confrontation. Movement limited to turning her head, Aurella did just that. The stone walls and round-leaded windows of the long room indicated clearly that this was neither the rain shelter nor camp. Rows of little wooden beds- some occupied, others empty- lined the walls and men and women in long aprons made their rounds on silent feet. He'd brought her to the castle infirmary.
"How long did I sleep?"
"Three days," Sir Leo returned. "Borus and Percival brought you back to the castle just in time."
Aurella nodded quietly, trying to process the information. Three days. Truth be told she remembered none of it. Though, if she had been unconscious the entire time that would certainly explain why. She did remember, however, the foolish confessions she'd made. It had seemed important to tell the truth about herself before death left her mute. Why she had felt it necessary she could not say. Perhaps it was because she would have liked one more person to know her for what she really was, not just as the commonest of commoners or even as a soldier but as a person. Death would have saved her the knowledge of what Lord Gallen really thought of her, favorable or otherwise. It wouldn't matter what he knew about her if she wasn't there to witness it. Now faced with the prospect of living once more, Aurella wished she'd have kept her mouth shut. The awkwardness growing ever thicker, she found herself unsure how to phrase her request.
"Lord Gallen…about what I said…"
Leo shook his head. "You needn't worry, I will keep your silence."
"I trust you to do so," Aurella turned her face away, mortified. "I only wish I'd kept mine."
Lord Gallen raised an eyebrow.
"It was one thing when I thought I wouldn't survive till sunrise. Now…"
"You would not have told me otherwise." Lord Gallen finished. It was a question though not worded as such. She could hear the note of disappointment in his voice and wondered that her silence should hurt him.
"No," she muttered, unable to hold his gaze, "I would not."
Aurella winced at her own words; the shame of that admittance stinging worse than the knowledge of what she had already told him. Chancing a glance at Lord Gallen, she found him contemplating the worn boards of the wooden floor, elbows resting on his knees and fingers interlaced. When at last he looked up, his face was calm and serious.
"I meant what I said. Then and now."
Her expression must have been one of shock for Lord Gallen chuckled and gave a lopsided smile.
"You displayed uncommon valor on the battlefield, and fortitude in the face of torture."
She laughed at that.
"You will receive a commendation, and a promotion as well. I will see to it," he promised.
Shock painted her features briefly, before softening into a wry smile. "I thank you, Lord Gallen."
"You do not believe me?" he asked, not a little hurt at her apparent lack of trust.
"I believe you, Milord." Rather, she wanted do. "You have saved my life, I owe you a debt."
"I will not have your trust from obligation." Without thinking, he took her hand in both of his. "I give you my word as a Knight of Zexen. Will that not do?"
Her smile untwisted slightly, but did not lose the pitying quality.
"Then I shall undertake labors to prove it to you. If a man cannot give his word in promise, what then can he offer?"
What, indeed?