Notes: It lives! My apologies if it's not very good. I'm a bit rusty on matters of Escaflowne, so please cheer for me.
07: Horse Ride
The Dragon Slayers were a nervous bunch the following day, around the time the caravan was supposed to arrive. Their five senses - or six, in Chesta's case - were tingling, taking in all there was to be gleaned about their surroundings. Not only were they looking out for any trouble that may arrive from out of town, but they were being extra careful to keep an eye on the townspeople who had congregated at the town square as well. After what they'd heard on the radio last night, their levels of paranoia were at an all-time high. They could not afford to be recognised.
Dilandau, however, looked as cool as could be as a drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face, tracing the delicate contours of his pale face. The sun that afternoon was being particularly unforgiving and the risk of sunburn was even higher since the Dragon Slayer Captain had been standing outdoors for a considerable amount of time now.
Too much time.
He looked across the street to where the group of volunteers had already set up their stands and were waiting, like him, for their wares to arrive. The buildings cast a shadow on that side of the street and they were only too happy to take cover against them, even where the walls looked most frail and broken down. Celena was also nearby, talking to one of the men. As she noticed his stare, though, she was quick to excuse herself and make her way over to join the Captain.
"I'm getting worried," were her first words. "They have never been this late to arrive before."
Dilandau did not reply at once, choosing instead to let his eyes roam over the crowd of impatient villagers gathered in the middle of the street. The weather was not helping to keep tempers in check and a lot of people were starting to harass the volunteer distributors, demanding to know where the provisions they had been waiting for the past week were.
"Do you think something could have happened to them along the way?" Celena wondered.
"It's possible," Dilandau said, weighing the likelihood of that happening. "Now that the Black Dragon is gone, there's no one to keep things in check. The roads are full of raiders who would like nothing better than to get their hands on something like your supplies."
"I thought you said you didn't find anyone suspicious during your searches of the outskirts," Celena asked, gestures animated with sudden preoccupation.
"Doesn't mean they aren't out there," he said, smirking as he met her clear blue eyes. He was somewhat confused when he saw her furrowed eyebrows instantly smoothen. After all, he was pretty certain that the peace-loving blonde before him would not approve of the kind of thoughts that were starting to form in his mind on how to deal with the raiders, and never before had anyone been calmed by making contact with his red-eyed stare. "My men and I will go out to take a look and try to find them."
"I'll go with you," she replied. "I know the route the caravan usually takes, so I can guide you."
Dilandau almost said no, but then stopped himself. Why would he tell her to stay put in the village when she could lead him all that much quicker to the site of a possible fight? If the sister of his most hated enemy wanted to place herself in the middle of danger, he really was not about to start worrying for her.
The Captain gave her a brief nod and looked around the street to the various places where his Dragon Slayers were positioned. He was displeased by how distracted they seemed, but did nothing more other than motion them over.
They were no longer in the Black Dragon Army and despite their choice to continue to follow him as their leader, it wasn't any of his business if they screwed up and got themselves killed. If a sudden conflict broke out and they weren't fast enough to react because they had let the heat get to them, whatever happened was entirely their responsibility.
Still, the moment Gatti, Chesta and Ryuon saw his gesture, their bored gazes sharpened and their backs straightened. Muscles coiled with a fresh supply of energy as they unconsciously fell back onto the state of receptive readiness that their military training had instilled into them and rushed over to their captain.
The group of five were quick to collect their horses from the stables and, soon enough, had left the gold and green fields of life-giving farms that circled the village to ride along a desert road. The sun was even more unforgiving here and the dark shapes of carnivorous birds flying up above were an ominous reminder of what happened to a person when they lost themselves in such an environment.
Celena took up a position in the middle of the group. Despite her earlier words, the blonde ended up doing very little in terms of guiding the Dragon Slayers. There was only one road in or out of town, which meant that there was only one path that the caravan could take.
Riding alongside her, Chesta suddenly gasped and Celena quickly looked over to him. He was staring at something that none of the others could see, his eyes focusing on some point beyond the horizon. He didn't say anything, but words were unnecessary. Even over the loud noise of hooves impacting on the packed dried earth, the rest of the party had heard him suck his breath in as clearly as she had, demonstrating a level of awareness of each other that she had never expected to find in a ragtag band of mercenaries.
She saw Dilandau pull his sword a little closer to him from where the brusque motions of his horse's gallop had shifted it and the ringing clicks of metal on metal coming from behind her let her know that Gatti and Ryuon were taking their weapons out from where they had been strapped and putting them somewhere within easier reach too.
The precision with which they had reacted to Chesta's warning and adapted was fascinating to Celena, whose only experiences with fighters involved her brother Allen's rowdy and undisciplined band of rebels. Loud orders had been a constant there, as nothing else would get those men moving; there had been no room for subtlety. What she was witnessing now was on a whole different level from the makeshift tactics and improvised nature of the Abaharaki. These Dragon Slayers were cool-headed and their methodical and ingrained practices hinted at a background of training on how to conduct themselves in this kind of situation and, most of all, experience - yet, they were all younger than anyone she had ever seen fighting alongside her brother.
The reason for Chesta's warning became apparent about a mile down the road, as a rising column of greyish smoke presented itself to all.
Instantly spurring his horse onwards, Dilandau broke off from the group and set out cross-country on a straight line in the direction of the smoke. Ryuon and Chesta were quick to follow his example and do the same, while Gatti approached Celena, taking up the position that the blond seer had vacated to caution her.
"That smoke is probably coming from your lost caravan. It must be under attack, so don't get too close. Keep out of sight until things settle down."
Celena nodded in response, not trusting her voice to be steady with the jolting motions of the beast carrying her, but Gatti wasn't looking her way any more. He was urging his horse to speed up to gallop and catch up with the rest of the Slayers, leaving the platinum-blonde girl behind to follow at her own pace.
Celena found that when out in the wilderness, distances could be very deceptive, especially when the landscape around her always looked the same: yellow and barren. The origin of the smoke was not as close as it had seemed at first and every time that she crested a rise in the terrain thinking that the conflict would be unfurling on the slope beyond it, a new hill interposed itself between her and her destination.
When she finally did arrive at the location, Celena followed Gatti's advice and slowed down before coming into sight of the confrontation. Dismounting, she carefully approached a ridge and found a safe spot to watch the fight below.
What she saw made her want to duck back down and throw up. It wasn't just the giant wagon that was on fire. The driver and some of his assistants had been caught inside it while trying to salvage the supplies. Part of its structure had collapsed and the flames were closing every gap they might have escaped through. The few who had been lucky enough to have been outside when the roofing had crashed were kneeling nearby, hands in head, unable to do anything but watch their companions' plight.
Celena froze up for a moment and in that brief time she felt as if her senses had tripled in accuracy. Her eyes could almost see through the wood planks into the inside of that inferno; her senses of smell and taste became sharp enough to distinguish all of the different materials being consumed by the flames: wood, spice, flesh and hair; and her hearing could suddenly pick apart every individual crackle of wood that brought about closer the definite collapse of the wagon.
Mentally shaking herself to do something, she hurried back to her horse and pulled on her water canteen until it came free. She did not let herself tumble down when it finally did - there was no time! - and threw herself on a mad dash towards the infernal caravan.
As she came closer, she realised that there were other sources of noise nearby. A quick glance beyond the fire was enough to make out the Dragon Slayers riding to and fro, circling some strangers who were on foot. She recognised the sounds of sword clashing on sword, but did not spare it more than a thought and continued instead to where the pair of oxen beasts that pulled the caravan were still tied up.
"Help!" she called out to the kneeling onlookers. "Help me move them!"
She got no response and decided to take up the task herself. She tried coaxing, slapping, pushing and scaring the giants animals into motion with shouts, but they seemed to be just as terrified as the unresponsive workers at first. When finally one of them took a hesitant step forward, then another, Celena laughed and cried in joy.
The transporter had been damaged enough that if the beasts pulled, the front might just break off, hopefully creating an opening the people trapped inside could use. However, the animals were not moving fast enough for Celena's liking. Every second that passed by was one more second they might not have, one more second without oxygen and surrounded by infernal temperatures, therefore she moved in front of the beasts and grabbed the reins to urge them to go faster. She felt her throat become sore and scratchy and realised she must have been shouting nonstop like the world was about to end ever since she had set to work.
Just as she made the conscious decision to quiet down, though, her over-sensitive ears picked up on someone else's shout: Chesta's.
"Miss Celena!"
She turned to see what was going on and was instantly blinded by the sun reflecting off of a long strip of silver.
Her left cheek exploded into searing pain and the next moment she was looking up into the twisted face of a bandit holding a blood-stained sword. Her brain had yet to grasp what a close call it had been for her that only her cheek, and not her neck, had been cut. All she could comprehend was that his arm had raised again, in preparation for a second strike that would not miss.
Paralysed by fear and shock as she was, the thought of running did not enter her mind. All she could think to do was hold a hand to her face to try to staunch the bleeding in the few moments she had left. The sword started its vicious descent, but it never had a chance to draw closer as the bandit suddenly flew off to the side, pushed away by some powerful, invisible force. The weapon fell down to harmlessly stab the ground beside her.
Taking a deep breath, Celena looked beyond the wavering weapon to see Dilandau atop his horse some meters away, arm outstretched in her direction. His white coat was spattered with blood that matched the colour of his blazing eyes, making him look like one of Jeture's vindictive angels descended from above: beautiful and deadly.
She realised that he had used his Draconian powers to save her again. She also noticed that the blood-lust in his eyes was unlike anything she had ever imagined possible.
The white-haired Captain led his horse closer to give her a once over. The sun shining behind him hit Celena's eyes as she looked up to him. It hid his features and for the first time since meeting him, she was grateful for that. He looked too intimidating, his intense red gaze too frightening when it rested on her wounded cheek. He didn't actually say anything to her, but she felt like she could hear his thoughts shift from concern about her well-being to making the man who had dared to touch her pay for it. His sword was thirsty.
"Miss Celena!" Chesta's voice erupted next to her. She started and looked over to him, feeling somewhat guilty for not actually noticing him sooner. "Are you all right?"
"Yes... my cheek... the caravan..." she tried to explain, but Chesta had already dismounted, way ahead of her.
"Don't worry about the supplies, miss Celena... you're wounded!"
With a gentle prod, the blond seer turned her wound towards him and removed her hand from it. The amount of blood made him frown, but it was a known fact that facial injuries always bled more than they should. He fetched a clean wad of gauze and some nasty-smelling salve from a pouch on the saddle of his horse. His fingers were surprisingly nimble, for he was able to put together a sturdy bandage in no time.
"The cut is deep and wide. You were very lucky, but we should go back to town to get proper treatment, miss Celena, or it will scar terribly," he said at last.
All around them, the chaos had dwindled down. The bandits were retreating under the Dragon Slayer's joint efforts and Ryuon had even managed to finish the job Celena had started and get everyone (and even a few supply containers) away from the flames.
"Then take her and go," Dilandau's voice was heard. His eyes were still smouldering and before any of them could say anything in reply, he was taking off in the same direction as the thieves. It was obvious he had only stayed long enough to hear Chesta's assessment.
The Dragon Slayer Captain had forgotten to mention the wagon and its occupants, but Gatti, Chesta and Ryuon shepherded them into their little travelling group just the same.
"Shouldn't one of us go with him?" Ryuon asked.
"I have a bad feeling..." the Seer said.
"That settles it then! I'm going!"
The purple-haired Slayer had already turned around, when Chesta spoke up again to stop him: "Wait! It's not about Dilandau. I just... have the feeling that something bad is waiting for us in town."
Gatti and Ryuon shared an uneasy look and started the long trek back to their temporary home, leaving the carcass of the broken down wagon to burn and the trail from Dilandau's horse to fade in the wind. Each of them could still hear a small tinny voice in their memories whispering "death", over and over again.