Chapter Ten: Left Behind
Dahlia was beginning to worry. It had been hours now since her father and Eve had ridden out of town, and she had spent the last two of those hours sitting on a bench outside the inn and waiting for their return. At first she had been certain she would see them riding back into town within minutes of her sitting down then, as time had passed and the sun had begun to sink lower and lower toward the horizon, her doubts had begun to set in. Eventually the sun had dipped below village rooftops and the light of dusk had quickly faded to the black of night. The villages many brazier torches had been lit and around the village green there now burned dim circles of orange light, beacons shining in the dark that she hoped would guide her father home.
She shivered against the encroaching chill as her doubts began to turn to dread. Where were they!? Her father had assured her that it was a safe trip and that they would be back before the day was out. She had protested of course, telling him that he was not a young man anymore and that he should leave it until the next day so that Atrix and some of the mercenaries could travel with them. Her father, being his usual pig headed self, had refused. Instead he had given some cryptic response about how it was important that he go today, and that the trip might even give them a way to be rid of the bandit threat for good. He had not sounded particularly convinced, or even convincing for that matter, but then he had always been difficult to persuade to anything. He was a stubborn man and all throughout her childhood he had tried to instill his convictions in her. She dimly remembered evenings sat in his forge, basking in the warmth of it, while he worked the bellows and hammers and told her all those stories of heroes, legends and the true meanings behind them all.
She rubbed her hands as the cold of the night air began to settle on her, and found herself watching the hanging corpses of the bandits. They still had not been taken away, a stark warning to the others still lurking beyond the village gates. The light of the torches around the green barely touched them, instead painting them in ghastly silhouettes that only succeeded in unnerving Dahlia even further.
She found her mind wandering back to her conversation with Eve earlier that day. Had these men really deserved worse than they had already received? Eve's vehemence at their treatment, and her drive to cause the men even more suffering had taken Dahlia aback. Over the day that Eve had lain unconscious in the inn's upstairs rooms, Dahlia had built up an image in her mind about the woman that had saved her. It was an image that had not survived more than an hour of actually getting to speak with her. She had imagined a bold, heroic figure willing to fight for justice and to right wrongs wherever she saw them, a woman who would be their saviour like some great hero out of the stories her father used to tell her.
Instead she had got someone very different and far more real than she had been expecting; a person who seemed strangely aloof, and surprisingly prone to black moods. Her talk of making others suffer as a means to keep yourself safe had chilled Dahlia's heart more than she had revealed at the time. What could have happened to her to lead her to such dreadful thoughts? Was she really capable of inflicting pain, purely for the sake of hurting others? Dahlia tried to imagine under what circumstances she might feel the need to do the same, but nothing came to her. Suddenly thoughts of her father, Atrix and her unborn child came to her. If anything were to happen to them... well, maybe she could imagine such circumstances after all.
As if sensing her despairing mood and trying to comfort her, she felt her baby stir inside her. She patted her stomach affectionately.
"You're right, you're right," she said, as usual feeling a little silly talking to her own belly, but at the same time feeling it strangely necessary. "I shouldn't worry so much. I'm sure your grandpa's doing just fine."
There came a low cough from behind her and she twisted as best she could on the bench to see Atrix standing behind her. He was carrying one of the inn's serving trays with a steaming bowl of soup on top of it. Over the crook of his arm was looped a thick woolen shawl. He and the other mercenaries had arrived back in town just over an hour ago, right before the sun had set. Commander Methades and the others were already in the inn, indulging in their usual evening rituals of drinking and feasting.
"You should come inside," he said, moving to sit beside her on the bench as he did so.
He handed her the tray, which she accepted thankfully and then wrapped the shawl around her shoulders.
"Cold isn't good for the baby, and Davus says you haven't eaten since breakfast this morning."
Dahlia rolled her eyes. Davus was the inn keeper, and a bigger mother hen than she had ever known.
"He fusses like an old maid," she replied. "I'm fine, and so's our child."
She took Atrix' hand and pressed it to her stomach. The baby gave an obliging kick in response and Atrix flashed her one of his rare smiles.
"He's strong," he said.
"Like her mother?" she replied teasingly. She knew Atrix wanted a boy.
"Actually I was thinking of your father," he replied, not really noticing her mocking tone.
Dahlia fell silent at that. For a brief moment she had managed to put her worries aside. Now she had just picked them back up again. Atrix seemed to sense her mood.
"I'm sure he's fine," he said. "He's got Eve with him, and I have a feeling she can take care of herself."
"That's what I'm worried about."
Atrix frowned.
"What are you getting at?"
Dahlia shrugged uneasily.
"Eve and I were talking, and she said something that... well..." she couldn't think of how to continue.
She turned to Atrix and looked him in the eye.
"Do you trust her Atrix?" she asked.
"Who? Eve?" he gave a shrug. "She saved our lives. I suppose that counts for some measure of respect at least. Why do you ask?"
"It's just... well... she's just not what I expected," Dahlia said haltingly.
"You thought she was going to be some shining golden hero?" Atrix asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.
Dahlia gave a frustrated sigh. Atrix was often so taciturn it was hard to get a read on how he felt about some subjects, or even what he was thinking from moment to moment. The same was not true in reverse though, and he always seemed to have a handle on what Dahlia was feeling. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much, but by Tartarus it could be annoying at times.
"I guess I did. I mean people don't just run into burning buildings to save complete strangers do they?"
"To be fair, the building wasn't on fire until after she ran inside," Atrix said, a wry grin splitting his face.
"You know what I mean," Dahlia replied.
Atrix nodded.
"I do, but I also know you've never really left Penthos. I've traveled a lot with Commander Methades and if I learned anything, I learned that there are all kinds of people in the world, and you can never predict how someone will react at any given time. I knew this one merc, bravest man I ever met. He would stare down a horde of Xerxes' own Immortals and never bat an eyelid. Had the most morbid fear of squirrels though."
Dahlia raised an eyebrow at him.
"Squirrels?"
Atrix gave a soft chuckle.
"With Zeus as my witness, its the gods honest truth," he said. "Guy couldn't abide them. Said they had shifty eyes."
Dahlia smiled slightly at that. He always seemed to know how to cheer her up, even if only for a moment.
"Do you honestly think they're alright?" she said, her gaze drifting back in the direction of the village gates, the same way she had watched them leave earlier.
"I honestly don't know," Atrix replied. "But if anyone can last out there with Caelon's men running around its Eve. You know me. I'm no amateur, and Commander Methades is the best swordsman in the unit, but she put us both on the ground in less time than it takes your heart to beat. I've never seen anyone move like that before."
"What do you mean," Dahlia said, her brow furrowing as she spoke.
"It was like..." Atrix's voice trailed off as he tried to put his thoughts into words.
"It was like something out of one of your dad's old stories," he said finally with a smile.
He'd done it again. Somehow, without even trying, he'd managed to make her feel better.
"Now come on," he said taking the tray and its bowl of untouched but now stone cold soup from her. "Let's get you inside before you catch your death of cold. If they're not back by morning, I'll head out with some of the others and go looking for them."
He leaned in close, balancing the tray on one arm and supporting her with the other as she levered herself off the bench. Moving was getting harder the bigger and heavier she became. She clutched tightly at his arm as she pulled herself upright, massaging the small of her back with a tired groan at the same time.
She looked him in the eye as he led her back inside.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?" he replied absently.
"For always knowing what to say."
He gave her the lopsided grin she had always found to be his best feature.
"It's what you married me for isn't it?" he said.
The pain was intense; a powerful throbbing ache that emanated from the base of her skull and seemed to spread like a spider web across the entire back of her head. Her thoughts were slow and groggy, but she thought she could make out voices nearby. They were muffled and dull, as if they were coming to her from underwater.
Slowly, Callisto tried to raise a hand to her pounding head but felt resistance when she attempted it. For some reason she couldn't move her hands, or her arms for that matter which seemed to be firmly secured behind her back. An unpleasant feeling was growing in her stomach. Something was wrong, but she could not remember exactly what. Slowly sensations were beginning to return, and as they did she felt a fresh ache begin to creep between her shoulders where her arms had been twisted behind her. She had presumably been in this position for some time. Carefully she twisted her hands again, and again met the same resistance as before, although this time she could feel rough splintered wood pressing against her back and the itchy biting of rope around her wrists.
So that was it! She was bound to some kind of wooden pole and from the feel of it, she was tied tightly in a standing position. Her legs felt weak and were sagging at the knees, all her weight pulling against her arms and the bindings that secured them. Gingerly she braced with her knees and the aching between her shoulders immediately subsided a little.
The muffled voices from nearby were beginning to become clearer now. She concentrated, ignoring the pulsing protests of her battered head. The sounds were voices. Each one carried a different pitch and tone, but they all had the same rough edge to them. It was an edge she did not like the sound of.
"…don't like this," one of them was saying. The voice was deep with a thick accent that Callisto could not quite place. Maybe Thracian?
"Don't like this at all," he continued.
"Your boys always whine like this, Caelon?" spoke a second voice. This one was not as deep as the first, but there was a sadistic edge to it that made Callisto wary.
Gingerly, she cracked one eye open, wincing as the sudden light flooding in between her eyelids caused her head to throb even harder.
"If she really is Callisto, I think I'm right to be worried," the first voice shot back. "We've all heard the stories. I even heard she got her hands on some Ambrosia, made herself a god!"
Carefully so as not to attract attention and let the speakers know she was conscious, she cracked open her other eye slightly and let them glide back and forth over her surroundings as she tried to take stock of the situation.
At first she could see little beyond an mixture of undulating oranges and blacks but slowly the blurriness began to fade and resolve itself into more distinct shapes. She was in some kind of tent, and was presumably lashed to its center pole. A roaring fire pit off to one side was presumably the source of the orange light and flcikering shadows. The tent was relatively spartan, with little in the way of furniture beyond a number of animal skins to cover the bare ground and a weathered old couch that looked to Callisto like it had once been opulent but was now only a faded shadow of its former glory.
There were three men in the tent with her. One of them was sprawled across the couch, slouching and partly obscured from Callisto's view by the other two men standing in front of him. They appeared to be in the middle of a heated discussion. One was a big man with a thick beard while the other was shaven headed with only one hand. The one handed man gave a derisive snort as the big man made his comment about Callisto's former god hood.
"Riiiiight," he said, his voice heavy with condescension. "And how many gods've you met that let you hit 'em in the head with a sword then truss 'em up like game for the pluckin'."
"Just sayin' what I heard is all," said the big man defensively. "Either way, she's trouble and no way she's here alone. She'll have an army waiting out there somewhere. Me 'n my boys say we should just pack up 'n leave. Cut our losses and head for new pastures, that kind of thing."
"You say?" the one handed man said, his voice low and threatening at first but quickly rising to a pitch of fury Callisto was more than familiar with.
"YOU SAY!?" he shouted, his mouth flecked with spittle. "You hear this Caelon? Your boy Herriod here seems to think he's runnin' your gang."
At the mention of Caelon, Callisto's ears pricked up. There was something about that name, something that made her chest tighten and her breath shorten, but she couldn't remember what.
The one handed man was leaning in dangerously toward the big man now, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword that hung at his hip.
"You don't run this gang," he hissed. "And even if you did, you don't run me 'n mine. I ain't been paid yet, but the way I see it, I'm owing and I intend to collect even if I have to take it out of her hide..."
He paused meaningfully.
"...or yours," he finished darkly.
The larger man clenched his fists to the accompanying crack of knuckles.
"You threatenin' me Sev?" he said.
He was trying to sound hard edged, but Callisto could hear the trembling at the corners of his voice, a sign of suppressed fear. The smaller man, Sev, had clearly recognised the tell tale quavering as well.
"Yeah," he sneered, taking a step toward Herriod. "Try not to soil yourself next time I do it. The smell ain't exactly pleasant."
Herriod gave a low growl of anger and Callisto could see his muscles tensing as he prepared to throw himself at the other man.
"Enough!" came a fresh third voice, but it was one that Callisto recognised. The third man had stood up from the couch, giving her her first really good look at him. He was tall with lean muscles and a heavy scar running from his mouth to beneath his ear. At the sight of him Callisto heard that familiar name in her head again.
Caelon.
Suddenly the fog of pain inside her head parted, and the memories of how she had ended up here came flooding back. In her minds eye she saw the arrow taking Silas through the chest and heard her own horror stricken cry as he slumped in his saddle, the life already draining from him before he even hit the ground. She saw these three men sitting astride horses and Caelon himself with his bow drawn, his words echoing in her mind as he admitted to killing the only man, she realised now, that she had ever truly considered decent.
She tugged viciously at the ropes that held her in a vain attempt to free herself, causing them to creak loudly against the wooden post to which she was bound. The the three bandits promptly turned their eyes on her.
"Looks like our guest ain't so sleepy no more," Caelon said, his eyes narrowing as he did so.
He and Sev crossed the tent to stand in front of her, each of them seeming to size her up as they walked. Caelon was the more cautious of the pair. As he came closer to her, he unclipped the clasp on his sword's scabbard allowing him to draw it more easily should he need to. Sev was more brazen. He moved closer to her, standing within easy reach should her arms have been free. The fire flared brightly as a previously untouched chunk of kindling suddenly caught aflame and Sev's eyes glinted coldly in the momentary brightness.
"Good to see you awake," he said cordially.
"You kept me alive?" Callisto replied, her voice dry and raspy. She must have been unconscious for a couple of hours at least.
Sev only shrugged in response.
"We thought it would be nice to bring you back here," he said. "Show you a bit of courtesy, then see if you could answer some questions for us."
Callisto glared back at him.
"The courteous thing to do would've been to let me kill your boss over there when you had the chance," she nodded toward Caelon. "Then I'd have shown you the same courtesy."
"Oh?" Caelon interjected. "And what courtesy would that have been?"
"I'd have made it quick when I killed him," she spat.
Sev's fist moved so fast that Callisto barely had time to brace for it. It caught her square in the stomach like a hammer blow. Her breath exploded from her in a loud gasp and for a moment she couldn't breathe, her mouth open and working silently as she tried in vain to suck clear crisp air back into her lungs. Finally her chest heaved and a loud hacking cough escaped her as she managed to breathe again.
"Now let's not get unfriendly," Caelon said nonchalantly as he placed a placating hand on Sev's shoulder. "We're all friends here after all, right Sev?"
The one handed bandit folded his arms, as he stood back to admire his handiwork.
"Oh yeah," he said sarcastically. "Best buddies."
Caelon nodded, turning back to Callisto as he did so. She only stared at them both defiantly. She wasn't afraid of Caelon or Sev, or even Herriod. They were filth and the only feeling they did conjure in her was nausea. People like this were just tools for destruction and chaos. It was people like them who had burned her home, taking everything she had ever loved and turning it to ash on the wind. In the past she had taken great pleasure in using her enemies former tools against them in service of her own revenge. Now she would instead have to take pleasure in simply ending them.
"There you see, all friends and smiles," Caelon said, exposing yellowing teeth with a wolfish grin. "But since we're all being so friendly I think its time we addressed a few minor points of contention here. You agree with me Sev?"
He turned to the one handed bandit, who gave a nod then stepped forward, raising a finger as if he were a great scholar about to deliver an important observation on the nature of the universe.
"Point number one," he said. "Caelon here ain't my boss. My boys are led by no one, save me." Caelon and Herriod both looked a little uncomfortable at that but neither spoke.
"Which leads us onto point number two," Sev continued. "I only lead my boys where I'm paid to, and Caelon here promised me a lot of money to lead them against that village to the south."
He pulled a long stiletto dagger calmly from his belt and Callisto regonised it immediately. It was the dagger Silas had given her, the one she had used to kill a mounted bandit. She felt that same pang in her stomach as she thought of Silas. Why had he not just listened to her? Why had he not just ridden for the trees like she had told him to?
Sev leaned in close, the tip of the dagger pressing sharply up against the exposed skin under her chin.
"And that brings us neatly to point number three," he said, his voice now dangerously low, his fetid breath hanging thick on the air.
Callisto blinked away thoughts of Silas, doing her best to remain impassive. Her eyes met his, even stare to even stare.
"You took my money," he hissed. "And I want it back. So you're going to tell me where it is or I'm going to make sure you're a long time dying." He jabbed her chin lightly with the point of the dagger, drawing a pinprick of blood as he did so.
Callisto only smiled at him, her grin wide and fearsomely white.
"And I thought we were friends," she said calmly. Sev's lip curled up in a sneer.
"Oh we are, we are," Caelon interjected. "And friends share confidences. Y'know, little secrets, like where they hide things."
"Tell you what," she said, "If you want the money, little Sev here only has to do one thing for me."
"And what would that be?" Sev snarled, clearly bristling at being called 'little'.
Callisto flicked her eyes in the direction of Caelon and Herriod.
"Do them for me, right here and now," she said, taking a wild gamble at his loyalties. "I'd prefer slow and painful, but quick and painless will have to suffice for the time being. Do that and I'll give you all the money you could want."
Both Caelon and Herriod visibly tensed, their hands closing over their sword hilts. They both clearly believed Sev might actually turn on them. At the same time, she could feel Sev suddenly stiffen as well, the dagger shifting ever so slightly as his grip tightened around it, the pressure on her chin lessening ever so slightly. For a moment there was silence as the three men stood, hands clutching weapons, while Callisto watched each of them intently.
Sev's eyes had a measuring look in them, as if he was carefully weighing the options available to him. Caelon seemed the most uneasy, obviously having the most to lose if the situation should turn sour but she could tell from the way he had shifted his feet and balanced his hand on the hilt of his sword that he was a capable fighter. Probably the most dangerous of the three should it come down to a straight up fight. Herriod was the most interesting to her though. He had taken a step back from Caelon, as if trying to distance himself from the other man, while still keeping a wary eye on Sev. How committed was he to Caelon? Was there something there she could use?
She could already see a look of determination resolving in Sev's eyes and from the nasty half grin he shot her it was obvious he was not about to betray his fellow bandits for so simple a ploy.
"Quite the piece of work we caught ourselves, eh Sev," said Caelon, stepping up behind the other man as he tried diffuse the tension in the air. His hand never left his sword however. Sev only laughed in return and stepped back from her, tucking the dagger into his belt behind his back as he did so.
Caelon's shoulders sagged ever so slightly in obvious relief, but Herriod continued to watch Sev. His distrust of the smaller man was clear in the way he moved to always keep Sev in sight.
"Not very co-operative is she," Sev said jovially.
Caelon only tilted his head slightly.
"You think you can do something about that?" he asked.
Sev turned a cruel leer on Callisto that made her skin crawl. As he studied her, he lifted his one good hand to scratch thoughtfully at his chin.
"I wouldn't say no," he said finally. "I have some wonderful toys that I can use to play with her. I just need a little time is all."
Callisto stiffened at that. She should have known a nasty little sadist like Sev would have more ways to torture people than just a sharpened dagger. She gave a mental grin. Amateur.
"Just don't take too long," Caelon said and turned to head for the tent's exit. "Remember we leave within the hour. I want you and yours ready to ride with us when we move."
Sev grunted.
"And if she still hasn't talked?" he said.
"Then you ain't gettin' the up front money," Caelon replied simply. For a moment Callisto was glad she had hidden the money in the temple. It's absence certainly seemed to be playing merry havoc with Caelon's plans.
"Then why should I ride with you?" Sev asked.
"Because you still get a cut of what we take from the village." Caelon replied. "Better a little of something than all of nothing, especially if this psycho here's about to drop an army on us."
Sev glanced at Callisto out of the corner of his eye.
"Better make sure she talks then hadn't I," he said.
"Yes you better had," Caelon replied. "You've got thirty minutes. I suggest you get to work."
With that he turned and swept out of the tent leaving the other two men standing in his wake.
Sev gave a mocking bow, his arm sweeping wide as Caelon strode out of the tent.
"Of course," he said to the other man's retreating back. "We wouldn't want to be late now would we?"
He turned and glanced at Callisto, then Herriod in turn. The levity seemed to have gone out of him as soon as Caelon left the tent. Now he stood straighter, his face still and unreadable.
"Watch her," he ordered Herriod. "I have to get my things."
The big man visibly bristled at that.
"Why should I..."
"Because I TOLD YOU TO!" Sev rounded on him, his voice starting low and escalating to vicious shout, that made the other man wilt under its fury.
With that he turned and stalked out of the tent as well, leaving Callisto alone with Herriod.
She turned her head to regard the other man. He was glaring daggers at the exit to the tent, whether for Sev, Caelon or both she wasn't entirely sure. This was it, maybe the only chance she would have before Sev came back. She had to take it.
"You look upset," she said mockingly, hoping that this was the right approach to take with the big man.
"Shut up."
"Or what?" she sneered at him. "You'll hurt me? Maybe even kill me? Something tells me a twisted little pile of dung like Sev won't take too kindly to you putting a stop to his fun."
"I said shut up," Herriod said again.
Callisto ignored him, doing her best to keep him talking instead.
"Speaking of Sev, he seems like quite the power player here doesn't he?"
Herriod shot her a dark look then crossed to behind her. She could feel his hands tugging at the ropes that bound her, making sure she was securely tied to the post and for a moment she worried that she might have misjudged his loyalties. Well, too late now. She would have to continue on regardless.
"I mean, Caelon certainly seems to need him. But then, why all the effort for Sev?" a tone of mock questioning entered her voice. "Why isn't he courting you and your boys the same way?"
"We've worked for the boss a long time," Herriod grunted. "He knows we'll get the job done. We ain't got nothin' to prove."
"Ah," Callisto replied with mock sympathy. "Taken for granted then?"
Herriod's fumbling hands paused on the ropes for a moment. Callisto felt a surge of elation. She'd touched on it, the screw she needed to twist until Herriod was wound up so tight the stress would make him snap. From the way Caelon and Sev treated him, that did not feel like it would be too difficult a feat to achieve.
"I mean, come on, how long have you been serving him?" she pushed.
"I don't serve him!" Herriod said indignantly. "We're all of us his partners."
Callisto snorted.
"Doesn't look that way to me," she replied. "Not when Sev's stomping around giving you orders, and Caelon just sits back and lets him."
Herriod had fallen silent again. Should she give him a moment to think? To process what she was saying? No. He already knew what she was getting at, she was almost certain of it. She just needed to keep on turning the screws on his self worth, keep on twisting at them until... well she didn't know what would happen exactly, but she imagined it would be quite the sight to see.
"Tell me something," she continued. "Does Caelon treat all of you like whipped dogs and just expect you to roll over for it?"
Again, Herriod said nothing. She had to keep going, had to keep talking.
"You were right you know," she said, "They should have listened to you."
There was another pause and then...
"About what?" Herriod said.
"About me," Callisto replied. "I do have an army and they're waiting up in the forest to the north. I'm just scouting ahead for them."
She twisted her head, doing her best to look back at him over her shoulder.
"You know my reputation and you know what they'll do when they come south."
Herriod let out a soft groan.
"They'll burn the village, take everything of value, enslave the women and children, and then they'll move onto Caelon." A pondering tone entered her voice as she spoke. If she could have moved her hands she would have been tapping at her chin in thought.
"I'll probably take them on the open road when they try to ride out of here," she said matter of factly. "They have to be punished after all. No one threatens me and gets to walk away whole afterward. I at least have to get a finger or two from them."
The lies flowed easily off her tongue as she spoke. She just hoped they were as convincing to Herriod as they sounded to her.
"But you don't have to be one of them," she continued. "I need men with a bit of insight in my army. Men with a bit of savvy who can see which way the wind is blowing."
"You'd let me and my boys join you?" he said.
"You're of far more value to me alive than dead," she said simply. "One fifth of everything we take if you do."
She didn't want to offer too much straight away. It would make her ploy less believable if she seemed desperate. Herriod had to believe she had an army at her back and that she had no real concerns about getting out of her present predicament.
The big man fell silent. Callisto could tell he was working the options over in his mind, calculating all the risks and rewards. She glanced toward the tent flaps that led to the bandit camp outside, trying hard not to let the growing tension she was feeling show on her face. Time was running out. Any minute now Sev would be back and this small window of opportunity she had been granted would close. Still, she could not push Herriod. If she did, the control she was trying to demonstrate would be revealed for what it was, an illusion as intangible as smoke on the wind.
Finally Herriod spoke again.
"A third," was all he said.
"A quarter," Callisto fired back at him.
For a moment he said nothing, then came the distinctive sound of a dagger blade rasping against leather as he pulled it from its sheath.
"Hold still," he said. "Wouldn't want you losing a finger or two now would we."
The ropes holding her wrists suddenly bit tighter under tension from the dagger, then an instant later fell loose as Herriod sliced cleanly through them. Callisto had to try hard to keep from letting out a sigh of relief as her arms fell to her sides, the gnawing ache between her shoulders already beginning to subside.
Herriod was beginning to stoop to cut her ankles loose when the tent flap opened and Sev came strutting in like a prize rooster, a small oak box tucked under his arm. His 'toys' Callisto presumed. The moment he saw her with her hands free, and Herriod crouched just behind her, he froze. Herriod caught sight of him almost immediately and cursed, quickly straightening as he did so.
"Well, well, well," Sev chuckled, a dark smile staining his lips. "Caelon's little meat head finally shows an ounce of cunning. What took you so long Herriod? Finally get tired of your boss pissing in your ale in front of all your little friends?"
Herriod's top lip curled upward in an angry snarl and he pulled a heavy looking sword with a thick blade from his back, bringing it up one handed in a simple guard as he advanced past Callisto toward Sev. The one handed man tossed the oak box to one side, its contents scattering on the floor and glittering wickedly as the firelight shone off them. Slowly and deliberately he drew his own sword, a long thin bladed thing with only one edge sharpened judging from the way it caught the fire light.
"You not goin' to call for help?" Herriod said as the two men advanced on one another.
"And risk not being able to take your head for myself? Now where would be the fun in that?" Sev replied, still smiling.
For brief moment, silence filled the tent as Callisto watched the two men circle each other. Herriod clearly had the advantage of strength and weight, but Sev carried himself better. He did not grip his sword as tightly as Herriod and his balance was lighter. Callisto knew that in such close quarters the fight would be vicious and quick. She ducked hurriedly, her fingers working deftly at the knotted ropes around her ankles. In front of her the two men flung themselves at one another, their swords meeting with a resounding crash. Whether they called for help or not, the sound of their fight would bring others in no time.
The ropes had been knotted multiple times. The first knot came undone relatively quickly but Callisto cursed bitterly when her grip slipped off the second one. She seized at it again, her dexterous fingers searching and tugging as she tried to work it loose. With a hiss of pain as the friction of the ropes burned at her rapidly moving fingers, she managed to undo the second knot and move onto the third.
The sounds of Sev and Herriod's fight were growing louder as the two men grew more desperate. She glanced up at them and was dismayed when, just as she did so, Sev delivered a hard hitting back handed strike with the flat of his sword that knocked Herriod's own weapon from his grip. The sword sailed into the far corner of the tent as Herriod, now unarmed save the dagger he had used to free Callisto's hands, began to back away warily. She could see the look of desperation in the big man's eyes, and the dawning realisation that he probably only had seconds to live. It was the same look she had seen dozens upon dozens of times before when an opponent realised they were outclassed.
With a panicked cry, he flung his huge frame at Sev. The smaller man hadn't been expecting it and the two of them hit the ground hard, Herriod grabbing at his opponent's sword arm and smashing it repeatedly down until Sev's one remaining hand released its grip on the sword hilt. Sev in turn brought his head forward in a bone crunching headbutt and Herriod howled as his nose broke and a torrent of blood streamed from it and down into his beard.
The big man collapsed back, the pain clearly distracting him. Sev wasted no time, grabbing for the dagger strapped to Herriod's thigh in the other man's moment of weakness.
Callisto breathed easier as the third and final knot came loose between her fingers, and she hurriedly began to untangle her feet from the ropes and post she had been bound to.
In front of her the two men were wrestling for Herriod's dagger. Despite his greater strength Herriod was losing, the pain from his mangled nose clearly giving Sev the advantage. Silently Callisto moved across the room toward them, her eyes on the stiletto dagger still tucked into the back of Sev's belt where he had placed it earlier.
The fight lasted only a moment longer, as Sev finally wrestled control of Herriod's own dagger from him and twisted the blade downward before plunging it through the side of the other man's throat. The big man barely managed a gasp, the light in his eyes fading quickly as his final breath gurgled wetly on his lips. Then his head lolled weakly to one side and the fight was done. Sev clambered to his feet, his face set in a hideous smile as he looked down at Herriod's body.
"Barely any fun at all," he muttered to himself, starting to turn his attention toward the post at the center of the tent. His eyes widened in alarm as he caught sight of the empty ropes lying discarded on the ground.
"Where in the..." he began, as Callisto seized her chance.
The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion for her.
Her hand shot out, whipping the stiletto dagger from his belt. Sev's eyes widened in stunned surprise as, in the same instant, Callisto rammed the dagger up under his chin, burying the blade right up to the hilt.
"Still want to play with me?" she hissed at him as she yanked the dagger free, the hot, cloying, copper scent of his blood on her hands.
Sev could only mouth some inarticulate reply as he toppled backward to the ground, his one good hand clutching desperately at the open wound. Callisto stood and watched him die, a strange feeling of nausea settling heavy in her gut. She had taken no pleasure in his death and that was surprising to her. She lifted the stiletto dagger in her hand, seeing the blood that stained both the blade and her fingers for the first time. She frowned. Wasn't this supposed to be the right thing to do? The championly thing to do? To kill an evil man, so that he couldn't harm others? Was that even why she had done it? Nothing made sense anymore. Everything that had once come so naturally to her now felt strange and wrong. It all just felt so hollow and empty.
She sniffed as she knelt alongside the body of Herriod, wiping the blade of the stiletto dagger unceremoniously on his shirt before straightening and tucking it into the top of the leather bracer she wore on her forearm. Outside she could already hear shouts of alarm, clearly alerted by the sounds of Herriod and Sev's brief but violent battle. She did not have much time.
Quickly she unbuckled Herriod's sword scabbard and belt, then straightened and buckled the belt over one shoulder so that the scabbard hung at her back. Crossing to the far side where Herriod's sword had fallen, she snatched it up and surveyed the tent. Other than the two bodies, there was little of use. She could not leave via the exit. She darted to the opposite side of the tent, whipping the heavy sword in a two handed vertical cut that parted the thick canvas easily. Without pausing, she passed through the gash she had opened and out into the cool air of night.
Around her all was darkness and a strong wind was blowing. The tent had clearly been set up at the edge of a clearing. Only a few feet away the forest filled her vision, trees casting long shadows that fluttered and skittered as the branches swayed too and fro under a silvery sheen of moonlight.
She crossed quickly into the trees for cover as she heard bandits arriving in the tent behind her, cries of alarm going up as they discovered the bodies of their former comrades. She wasted no time listening to them. It would not take them long to discover the slit in the back of the tent and to figure out where she had gone. She needed to get moving, but just blundering off into the forest in the dark with no clue as to which way she was going or where she was trying to get to was a sure fire recipe for disaster. Instead she hugged the tree line, circling the fringes of the camp as she tried to work out what to do next.
Caelon's bandits were a ragtag bunch. That much was obvious. The whole camp was a collection of filthy looking, badly maintained tents and fire pits. At a brief head count, Callisto could make out some sixty or so men. Nearby, a third of that number in horses were tethered to a long hitching post along with some hay bails placed close to them for feed. A plan began to form in the back of her mind as she took it all in.
Currently the camp was in uproar as men hurried this way and that, desperately in search of her. They were disorganised but she could already see Caelon striding through the middle of the chaos, giving orders and gradually bringing his men under control. It would not be long before they gave up searching the camp and began to expand their hunt into the surrounding forest. Searching for her would be difficult in the dark, but Callisto still didn't want to be around when it happened. There were too many risks, too many chances that something could go wrong, not to mention her blonde hair making stealth at night a difficult proposition for her. No, leaving on foot was not an option. That only left the horses.
Quickly and quietly she crossed to where the horses were tethered, a nearby torch stuck upright in the soft ground soil to allow the bandits to see what they were doing around the animals. The majority of the horses had already been saddled in preparation for the bandits' upcoming attack on Penthos. That made things considerably easier. She picked out one of the horses that had been saddled, a dark mare with a quick step that pranced nervously as she approached.
"Easy girl, easy," she whispered as she drew closer to the animal, holding out a placating hand as she did so. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The horse stomped is feet, and snorted loudly. Callisto froze, her eyes darting to the nearby camp. So far she had not been noticed. She reached out, holding her breath as she did so and managed to deftly snag the horse's reins. The animal reared and whinnied softly. Still no one looked their way.
"Come on girl," she whispered again. "Time to cause ourselves a little distraction."
Holding the horse's reins tightly, she crossed to the blazing torch and hefted it. As she did so a cry went up from the camp. She had been spotted. She span to see a number of bandits starting toward her, Caelon standing at their back and gesturing wildly in her direction.
She flashed the bandit leader a broad grin and vaulted into her horse's saddle, brandishing the torch high over her head as she did so. She whirled it in her grip as if it were a sword, the flame roaring louder as she did so, then span her mount and hurled it into the nearby hay bails.
The fire caught immediately, flaring brightly in the darkness as the wind pulled it from one hay bail to the next. Already, flickering embers were beginning to drift in the air and the horses all around her were beginning to stomp and whinny in panic. Some were already pulling hard at the hitching post, their eyes rolling white and nostrils flaring. Within another moment or two all the horses had begun to do the same as the fire blazed hotter and harder. The hitching post began to groan under the strain. One horse, a huge stallion with heavily muscled flanks heaved desperately at its tethers. There was a loud splintering crack and the post split as if someone had taken an axe to it. Free from its tether, the stallion turned and bolted, its hooves pounding as it hurtled off through the camp and into the safety of the forest.
Callisto clutched grimly to her reins, doing her best to control her own horse as the other animals began strain harder and harder. The hitching post, already weakened, began to crack and splinter all along its length as each horse managed to get free and flee the roaring flames that licked hungrily at the night sky.
Callisto gave a satisfied nod at her efforts, then turned her steed and caught sight of Caelon still watching her with hatred in his eyes as his men began to chase after the fleeing horses.
She smiled wickedly and threw him a jaunty wave.
"Still think we're friends?" she shouted to him, her smile broadening as she booted her horse to the gallop and thundered out of the camp, leaving only a trail of smoke and burning embers in her wake.