Πέρασμα των πορειών
Seven
The horse's trail veered from the path about a half mile ahead, turning Westward back into to the trees. Back towards Camelot. Momentarily that thought worried Balinor, but he brushed it aside to be drowned by his blind fury once more. If he had to cross the border then he would in order to get Merlin back. To prevent Uther from getting his hands on the boy. If that brought the attention of Camelot's knights down on him then so be it. He would just have to get Hunith from Ealdor and run, find her and Merlin somewhere safe that they could settle before moving on himself. Across the sea would be safe. Out West. His father's family was there – an aunt, or a second cousin or someone who Uther did not know about specifically. His family would certainly shelter Merlin, though he remained staunch in his resolution never to burden them with himself. He did not know them, what few of them remained, and a full-fledged Dragonlord was too much of a danger. People spoke, and would certainly do so if a man, so obviously his father's son were to appear in their midst. Coin tantalised, and word could travel. It was not safe.
How long he had run, he could not be sure, but the trees ahead thinned, and the sound of voices could be heard. Balinor slowed to a walk, throwing out his senses to investigate the woods around him. There did not appear to be anybody on this side of the trees, so he slowed further, and approached as silently as he could to kneel out of sight and brush aside the leaves of the bushes to peer through, and watch.
Beyond was a clearing containing a camp. Several haphazard tents made from hide stood dotted about, one slightly larger one adorned above the entrance by a yellowed buck's skull crowned with impressive antlers. A large group of horses stood tethered to the trees not far from him, most of them with their heads down and lips wibbling, half asleep and flicking flies in the muggy afternoon warmth. Men moved about the camp, engaged in various tasks, those not moving simply lounging. Beside the cooking fire at the very centre stood a group of them, one of which dressed in black furs and chainmail, wearing what looked to be a badger skin around his shoulders listened with concern and sympathy to the kneeling bandit who had fled the earlier skirmish, while the others looked on.
"There was nothing I could do! Algrun, Geffen, the others – all dead!" The kneeling man all but shrieked. "I had to run. He would have killed me!"
"One man?" The question was a loaded one, but the cowering bandit did not recognise it.
"He's not a man. You hear it? That sound? Like all the monsters of Annwn descending at once. You must have heard it! The whole world must have!"
Another man stepped from the gathered, his large arms folded over his chest, a heavy bruise down one side of his face. A man that set a deep, vicious growl humming at the back of Balinor's throat, that caused his hands to clench into tight, trembling fists. "We heard it," Halig told him flatly. "Would have been heard for leagues around. Was the roar of a Dragonlord."
Balinor drew a sharp, angry breath through his nose, his shoulders shuddering with the force of it.
"I thought that Uther killed them all," the bandit in furs stated, an edge of uncertainty to his tone and an interested frown on his face. There was intent in his eye, the one beneath his crude eye patch over the fresh scar upon his cheek and forehead likely mirroring it, should it remain. Halig turned away,
"All but one." The small smirk on the bounty hunter's face prickled at Balinor, pushing him beyond boiling point. He could practically see him counting up the bounty for the last Dragonlord in his head. Whether or not it still stood, Balinor could not say, but he had been worth a fair sum before he left Ealdor. More than the other sorcerers Halig could bring in for a start, except for maybe Nimueh, but there was absolutely no way he would be able to capture her.
The part of him that was dragon laughed at the very notion of Halig's being able to capture him, either. The nobility and pride that came from more than simply his family name, that pronounced himself to be bigger game than Halig could hunt and certainly handle. It was not a Dragonlord's birth that made him nobility. It was his nature. He would never get the chance to collect the bounty. Balinor knew that he would never let himself be taken alive, and he doubted that Uther would cough up for his corpse. The King always had been a tight get. Hard to weedle money out of for the purposes of borrowing, or on loss of a bet. Money he classed as his own, and not the Kingdom's. It was not the sorcerer he paid for when a bounty was paid. It was the chance to see them killed – to satisfy himself that he was avenging Ygraine. He had become as deluded as his lies in that.
"Still," the bandit in furs turned back to the man kneeling on the ground before him, "he is just one man. He has no dragon to back him up."
"He has magic, Kanen," the bandit insisted, desperation creeping into his voice. "Powerful magic. I could not win. You understand?"
Kanen nodded his head. "I understand," he drew his sword and drove it through the man's chest. "I understand that you are a waste of space."
He turned from his kill, wiping his sword down on his sleeve as he went and indicated to the body with a jerk of his head. "Toss that in the woods, and let it be known" he raised his voice to address the others in the camp "- that cowardice will not be tolerated! These are OUR woods! WE say what goes on here! Now get back to work. We move East before nightfall."
Balinor glanced about, noting that aside from the men moving to dispose of the body, many of the others were indeed in the process of dismantling the camp.
So, he found himself thinking a little smugly, these were Kanen's woods? He dictated what went on there, until Eldred's men were in the area, when he would up sticks and bugger off elsewhere? He folded his arms atop his bent knee where he crouched out of view, and chuckled to himself somewhat maliciously. Kanen was full of hot air. He had however joined forces with Halig by the looks of things, no doubt in hopes of a share of the bounty that Uther would pay for Merlin, or with the intention of killing Halig and taking the bounty for himself. The thought set his lips in a thin line, his brow knitting in a frown. Would they try for the bounty on him also, he wondered? It was more than enough to tempt them. He huffed an almost silent, humourless laugh. Let. Them. Try.
The tent on the far side of the camp began to come down, the skull hitting the ground with a loud thump and a curse from the man responsible. It was not the debacle around the tent, but what was beyond it that seized Balinor's attention. Halig's cage stood near the trees ringing the other side of the camp, the heavy-boned horse that pulled it tethered loosely and grazing nearby. Inside the cage, huddled up as small and invisible as he could make himself, was Merlin.
Balinor felt a rush of relief, like a drink of cool water after a long, hot drought, his anger washing out of him. Careful that he was not seen, he rocked forwards onto his knees and peered over the bushes.
"Merlin."
The boy looked up, blinking away his tears to scan the camp. Balinor felt the questioning, desperate brush against his magic, and reached out to answer him in kind, the feeling soothing, as though they had taken one another's hands.
Immediately Merlin's eyes fell on the bushes where Balinor hid, the sight of his guardian drew the child to crawl forward and kneel up to grip the bars of the cage and stare back with watery eyes. The sight would have been heartbreaking, could Balinor not sense the relief and joy Merlin felt at seeing him.
He instructed Merlin to stay quiet, and ducked down below the bushes to make his way around the outside of the clearing.
Merlin followed his movements, unable to see him, but able to sense his presence. He continued to watch, Balinor appearing briefly between the trees amongst the horses, movements all caution as he drew his knife from his belt and paused to watch the men in the clearing a moment, before speaking low words to the sleepy animals, eyes glowing, and proceeding to cut one of the ropes tethering them.
For what seemed painfully long moments he moved among the docile beasts, sawing at the tethers with his knife. Whatever he had said to them, whatever magic he had cast held them in place, unaware of their freedom. He halted every now and again to check on the camp, and the men therein, before returning to work. Then he was back in the trees again, moving steadily around towards the cage. His sense of urgency and worry about being discovered was interrupted by a jumble of feelings that Merlin could not decipher properly, before he appeared again briefly between the trees and tall bracken, wiping his sword down to sheathe it and vanish from sight amongst the fronds.
Then he was behind the cage, stepping cautiously through the undergrowth to right outside it.
Merlin practically flung himself at the back of the cage to reach through the bars for Balinor. The man took his hands, squeezing his tiny fingers gently, relief painted all over his kind face. "Alright, Merlin," he soothed quietly, the little one starting to sniffle and cry from both relief and frustration that he could not get any closer to Balinor, "I'll get you out in a moment. Be strong a little longer for me, hm?"
Merlin nodded, whimpering when Balinor released his fingers and very cautiously began to skirt around the cage, towards Halig's horse.
Despite its owner, it looked a calm and gentle beast. It raised its head at Balinor's approach, and poked its nose at him, lipping his fingers gently. Balinor stroked its cheek, sure that it was not headshy, nor going to object when he took hold of its head and held it still that he could look it dead in the eyes.
"Friþhengist. Hlystan æt mec.*"
The horse wuffled gently, and dipped its head that it seemed almost sleepy. Balinor gestured to it to stay put with one hand, and drew his knife to cut its tether and throw the trailing end over its neck. He would not need to release it from the cage. It was saddled. Halig had likely used it to retrieve Merlin... must have been looking for him along the forest paths.
He turned, and made his way back to the cage, inching his way to the door.
"You!"
Balinor spun clumsily on one foot, drawing his sword as he went to find Halig stalking towards him, holding his own blade. The bounty hunter was seething, that much was apparent in the set of his shoulders, the predatory quality of his walk and the deadly set of his face. Balinor could not help but feel a bolt of intimidation. Halig didn't halt, bringing his sword up and around to clash with Balinor's where the young Dragonlord defended himself, almost knocking it from Balinor's hand with the force.
"Come to steal what's mine again!?"
"He is not yours!" Balinor all but roared back, parrying another blow, knocked back a step by the sheer strength of it. Halig was much, much bigger than him.
"But he is yours!?"
Balinor lowered his head, his nostrils flaring with the stuttering growl in his breath, but did not say a word. He was not given the chance. Halig came at him again, sensing his distraction. It was all he could do to keep from being killed, to parry and look for an opening to strike back or use his magic as Halig clashed against his sword over and over again. The bounty hunter had some skill, but it was his strength, and his rage that made him dangerous.
In the cage, Merlin was utterly terrified. Balinor could hear his desperate sobs, wanted so much to comfort him but Halig, along with Kanen and the others converging on him demanded his attention foremost.
The bandits and their leader did not join the bounty hunter's effort, but halted just shy of the fight to watch.
Balinor saw an opportunity and took it, dodging aside a wide strike from Halig, gashing the man's thigh as he went and booting him hard in the side to knock him to the ground. The bounty hunter went down with a thump, slow to recover as Balinor turned his sword in his hands to bring down in a deadly strike to his enemy's gut.
Something connected with Balinor's cheek with a whack, the sting reverberating through his teeth and jerking his head to the side. Another hard object hit his knee, another his side, force blunted by the thick hide of his coat. He brought an arm up defensively, finding that some of the bandits were throwing rocks at him, jeering and laughing at his reactions as though they watched a pit fight. Taken aback, he muttered under his breath and conjured a barrier to halt the onslaught.
Their interference afforded Halig time to get up and retrieve his sword, the bounty hunter hurling a look of death at the gathered men, his irate bark of "enough! He's mine!" halting their attack. Grunting, he lunged forward onto his uninjured leg and engaged Balinor once more.
The gash in his other leg seemed less than bothersome. Halig hit Balinor a particularly strong blow, a satisfied grin breaking over his bruised face momentarily at the cry of pain Balinor gave, the force of the strike snapping his wrist back with an audible crunch that cast the Dragonlord's sword spinning to bounce off the wheel of the cage, sent the smaller man stumbling back towards the trees.
The bounty hunter stalked after him, grinding his teeth as the grin faded from his lips. "Should hand you over to Uther as well," he snapped, "you're worth more than a King's ransom. He'd probably pay double should I ask for it. Can see why he'd be so desperate to see you executed – going on how much of nuisance you are!"
Balinor hit the ground under a vicious boot to his side, gasping air, a deep ache in his arm after holding off Halig's attacks and the painful throbbing in his wrist. He looked up to find the Bounty hunter standing over him, glaring down at him, thick fingers twitching around the grip of his sword.
"Willing to bet even a Dragonlord's magic is no match for cold iron," Halig ground out, low and deadly. "Should put it to the test. You got no dragon coming to protect you. What are you going to do?"
Halig went flying, thrown backwards off his feet to land on the grass away from Balinor, his sword hitting the ground at Kanen's feet.
Panting, Balinor blinked. He'd pulled his magic to him ready, the word ácwele* on his lips, but not uttered it. He looked up over his shoulder, at the cage. Merlin knelt by the bars, trembling, his eyes fading from gold to blue. He looked frightened, as though he had done something wrong.
Balinor didn't have time to reassure him, pushing himself to his feet and reaching for his sword where it lay nearby to heft it with a pained grimace as Kanen approached, his own drawn. Balinor prepared to meet him, interrupted before he could by the first battle cry ringing through the trees.
Eldred's men crashed through the bushes into the clearing, cutting down the first unprepared bandits as they overran the camp.
Kanen left Balinor be, calling out as he turned.
"RETREAT! Into the woods!"
The bandits made for the horses only to find the animals fleeing into the trees from the invading, shouting soldiers at the gallop.
Balinor smirked through the pain at the sight, pulled himself away from it and ran to the cage.
Merlin met him at the door, dismayed when Balinor rattled it and found it locked. Not surprised, but still annoyed, he shouted to Merlin to get back, and with his magic, ripped the whole door from its hinges in a shower of sparks, throwing it clean across the clearing to crash into the bushes behind him.
He reached for Merlin, stilled by the boy's frightened scream to look to his right and see Halig charging towards him, battered and bruised and bellowing his war cry at the top of his lungs with sword clutched above his head.
Balinor made to reach for his own, unnecessarily as an Essetir soldier stepped between them, and ran the bounty hunter through under the man's own momentum.
Halig dropped his sword with a gurgle, the blade sticking into the ground behind him, and collapsed to his knees.
The soldier drew his blade back and let Halig fall. He turned to Balinor, who raised his sword defensively, pain clear on his face under the weight of it. The soldier did not say anything, and did not move to attack.
Balinor hesitated a moment, drew his magic to him, and sheathed his sword. His eyes never leaving the soldier, he reached for Merlin, the boy unable but to stare at Halig's dead body.
With a gentle, silent prod from Balinor, he went to him, and held on around his neck as he was lifted down from the cage with a pained grunt. Once on the ground, Balinor took Merlin's hand and began sidling slowly towards Halig's horse, his eyes never leaving those of Eldred's man.
The soldier moved then. Not towards them, but away to run off into the fray and join his fellows in driving out Kanen and his men.
Not intent on questioning the blessing, Balinor pulled himself up onto the horse one-handed, and reached down to pull Merlin up in front of him.
They left the battle behind at a gallop, racing through the trees to put as much distance between it and themselves as possible.
*Friþhengist. Hlystan æt mec – Horse. Listen to me.
*ácwele - Kill. Destroy
Balinor's cheeky/creepy smirk: Link on my profile. Copy and paste it as links don't work any more :(
