Chapter 19: Chapter 19 – Battle

Recommended for mature audiences only. Some content is not suitable for young readers.

(Updated for errors & minor content - 18-Mar-2019)

Reviews are absolutely welcome!

The following morning, there wasn't a soul in the village who wasn't preparing for the battle that was about to hit Talin. The women were busy packing their belongings, preparing food and mending travel clothes for the journey to Stonehill, and even the children were lending a hand where they could. The storm had only gotten worse overnight, and the barn, the village hall and the small church acted as shelters for men crafting arrows and sharpening their blades in preparation for the upcoming battle.

Snow spent the day following Eric around, much to his disapproval. They, along with Bane and William, spent most of the day in the village hall watching the men spar and brush up on their swordplay. She wasn't allowed to fight, but she still wanted to know what was going on, and watched the men fighting with interest. She didn't know what she would do when Argus and his rebels arrived – Eric wouldn't discuss it with her. She had to find a way to be useful, maybe she would tend to the wounded?

Snow watched the men clang their swords together. The villagers were rusty, but they weren't terrible. Even so, Eric leaned against a wall with his arms crossed and face stern, muttering things under his breath while Bane corrected their faults.

"Don't be so critical," Snow said to him. "They're trying their best."

Eric sighed, "I know. But their best might no' be good enough." He looked at her with sad eyes.

Snow squeezed his arm, trying to offer him a shred of comfort. "It'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"Who's next?" Bane shouted from the middle of the hall, holding up two swords. The two men that had been fighting were walking solemn-faced back to the circle surrounding them.

"It's my turn," Eric called, pushing himself off the wall. He walked to the centre of the circle, took a sword from Bane and swung it in his hand effortlessly.

A few of the villagers gave each other worried glances, and Bane laughed. "Dinnae be scared. Step up, lads."

"I'll go," Snow said, joining Eric and Bane in the circle. Murmurs erupted around the group of men. She held out her hand for the second sword.

Bane hesitated, looking from the queen to Eric.

"No," Eric said simply.

"Why not?"

Eric's face was calm, but deadly serious. "Ye know why." The babe.

Snow rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. It's just a bit of fun. You're not going to hurt me." Snow took the sword from Bane's grip and raised her eyebrows in a challenge to Eric. "Scared?"

Eric's mouth tightened, but he sighed. He knew it was better him than someone else. He didn't trust the others not to hurt her. "Fine," he said, his tone clipped. Snow grinned.

She took a couple of steps back and held the sword in between her knees while she tucked her shirt into her trousers. Being Eric's, it was too large, and she didn't want it getting in the way. She hadn't practised with a sword since before her birthday and the crowd would have made her nervous, but she was too excited to care.

"Alright the both of ye," Bane announced. "Keep it clean. Start when ye're ready." He moved back to the circle.

Snow held up her sword, looking directly at Eric. She couldn't gauge his mood, but she knew he couldn't be pleased.

Eric was conflicted, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He never pretended when he fought Snow, and she'd received some heavy hits, cuts, bruises and welts from him over the course of their training. He took her training seriously, and if he went easy on her, she never would have become as good as she was now. But the thought of fighting her now – while she was carrying his child… it didn't sit well with him, and a knot formed in his gut.

Eric studied her. She looked so fragile, waiting for his first move with her blade on guard, but he knew better than that. Her small form was deceiving. She was good. Good enough that he'd actually have to put up a fight. If he lost on purpose just to end it, she would be furious with him.

He decided he had to trust her judgement. If she felt that she was up to it, he had no choice but to believe her.

Wasting no more time, he began advancing, not even lifting his sword until he was a few steps away from her.

He swung at Snow twice. The first she blocked effectively. The weight of his second blow sent her blade backwards, but not hard enough to knock it from her hand. She recovered fast and struck quickly at him, missing his gut by an inch. He looked down in surprise, and when he looked back at her she was smirking, mischief in her sparkling eyes.

Snow came at him this time, but Eric caught her blow with his sword and pushed her back. The metallic slice that rung through the air was chilling. "Ye'll have to try harder than that, princess," Eric teased, swinging his sword in challenge.

Snow scoffed at him. "Don't get cocky now, hunter."

Eric smirked. Their swords came together again as he attacked. Once, twice, three times, and Snow deflected each one. Her own following blows were quick in succession. They weren't as strong as his own, but they were fast, and he had to move his arse to block them in time.

Again and again her swings came, one after another, and Eric found himself pushed back almost to the wall of men surrounding them. She was like a wasp, buzzing around him and striking in his most vulnerable positions. He caught each one, but narrowly.

He managed to push her back, and they were in the middle of the circle again. Eric didn't risk a look at Bane or the villagers, one look away from Snow and she'd have a sword against his throat.

The pair paused for a moment, walking in a circle and catching their breath. She was fighting well, and he couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest.

Joining again in the middle, Snow went to lunge at him, but she staggered suddenly, leaving herself open to a blow. Eric took his chance and swung. He missed as Snow spun out of his way. He'd been expecting it though, and sent a backhand through the air, his blade stopping a hair's breadth away from her throat.

Eric was expecting a frustrated growl from Snow, but she just smirked. That was when he felt the delayed sting in his gut. He glanced down and saw the tip of Snow's sword pressed against his torso, a small spot of blood appearing on his white shirt. He frowned and lowered his sword. She did the same.

The room was deadly silent, save for Snow and Eric's heavy breathing. It was impossible to tell who had made the killing blow first.

They both looked at Bane, but he shrugged. "Ye're both defeated, it would seem."

Snow was still laughing when they made it back up to her room in the inn. Bane had declared the fighting over and sent everyone back to their homes to eat and build up their strength for the hastily approaching night.

Snow put another log on the fire and put her hands on her hips, facing him. She looked very proud of herself.

Eric just stared at her in disbelief. "I dinnae know why ye're laughing. Ye bloody stabbed me, woman," he exclaimed, gesturing to the blood on his shirt.

"Oh, stop it," Snow hushed him. "It's just a scratch." She'd made sure to bring a bottle of rum up with them just in case. She sat in the armchair across from the fire with the bottle and beckoned him over.

"I won," Eric declared, pulling his shirt over his head. "It was supposed to be a clean fight."

Snow huffed and rolled her eyes, as she doused a strip of cloth in alcohol. "I barely broke the skin. Look," she said, peering at the small wound and blotting it with the wet cloth. "The tip barely went in, Eric. It's already clotted." She really did feel bad, but it wasn't a serious injury, and she'd at least gotten a chance to train a little. "You might end up with a little scar," she murmured as she cleaned the skin around the small puncture. Her eyes moved up his torso, taking in his other scars. Her hand reached up to trace a long one that ran down the side of his ribcage. Her hand lingered on him, the warmth of his skin seeping into her fingers.

Her room was dark despite the hour, thanks to the storm still raging outside. The fire was the only light they had, and its golden glow flickered against Eric's bare skin. He really was a beautiful man, well-built and covered with lean muscle. The soft light contoured the shape of them, and Snow felt her mouth going dry. She cleared her throat softly and withdrew her hands, "All done."

Eric didn't move, he just stood in front of her, peering down with a small smirk on his face. "Ye havnae apologised."

Snow raised her eyebrows, "I thought it was implied."

Eric bent over, putting his hands on either side of the armchair. Snow shrunk backwards into the chair, but Eric leaned closer. "I think I at least deserve a kiss."

Snow returned his smirk and took his face in her hands. She placed a soft kiss on his mouth and then sat back, her smile reappearing. "Satisfied?"

"Not quite," he growled softly. "Try it again."

Snow wanted to spite him, but he looked too irresistible. She leaned forward and put her mouth to his again. It started off as a respectful kiss, soft and gentle. Then Eric leaned closer, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck. The kiss deepened and her mouth parted for him. The calmness of the moment vanished, and everything intensified, the eagerness climbing in both of them.

Eric sunk to his knees and dragged Snow out of the chair. They tangled together on the fur rug in front of the fire. Eric felt her breathing grow heavy, short and hot against his lips. "Make love to me," she whispered. Eric answered her with another long kiss, making Snow moan when his tongue found hers.

They broke apart only long enough to remove their clothing. Eric stared at her, laying before him, naked, and her skin flushed pick with desire. She was breathtaking in the glow of the fire. He ran his hands up her legs, over her hips and waist and then flicked her nipples with his thumbs. They peeked immediately, and he replaced his thumbs with his mouth. Snow moaned at the sensation, her fingers gripping his hair.

Snow wrapped her legs around him and pulled his mouth up to her own. She was already ready for him, and she didn't want to waste any more time. She lifted her hips to great him and their bodies came together with one thrust. Snow's breath stuttered as he rocked into her and she moaned again, meeting his thrusts with her own hips.

With the impending battle looming over them, there was a sense of urgency in their movements, but they were soft and tender all the same. Snow refused to let the thought into her mind, but Eric knew. He knew this might be their last time, the last time he could hold her naked flesh against his, to kiss it, and touch it, and make her moan his name over and over. He kissed her neck, grazing his teeth over her soft skin as he moved in her. She was so warm, and it made his heart ache. He could be cold and buried this time tomorrow, but as long as Snow got out he didn't care. She had to survive this, he would consider no other alternative.

Snow touched his face, and he realised she was wiping away a tear. She kissed him gently, first on his mouth, then his cheeks and eyes and forehead. "I love you," she whispered, a tear falling from her own eye.

"Ye're mine," he growled against her mouth, thrusting into her again and again. "Ye're mine, and I love ye."

"Yes," she replied, clinging to him. "Always."

Snow wasn't prepared for the ferocity with which her climax consumed her. She cried out at the release, it was so overwhelming she thought her heart would burst. Her legs tightened around him, driving him in deeper still. It was enough to undo him. Another growl escaped him as she took him with her. He shuddered deep within her.

The two of them lay in front of the fire for a long while, still entwined and not wanting any more time to pass. As Eric stroked the soft skin of Snow's back, he prayed this wasn't the last time he would hold her. He prayed to whatever god would listen.

Eric stood on the porch of the inn with Bane and William by his side. Several villagers dressed in armour stood behind them. It had just passed midnight, and finally the snow had stopped falling and the wind had begun to die down. William looked at Eric with questioning eyes and the hunter nodded once. It was time.

"Alright men," Bane spoke. "Gather the women and children."

The men in armour ran out into the darkness to assemble the villagers who were leaving for Stonehill.

"How long do you think it'll take them to get here," asked William, "now that the storm has stopped?"

Bane and Eric both shrugged. "We have to presume they're close," Eric said.

"Just make sure ye get everyone to Stonehill as soon as possible," Bane said to William. "If they defeat us, they'll come straight for ye. Be prepared."

He sat upon his horse, staring out at the moonlit surroundings. His eyes finally focused on something interesting. It looked like a village, hidden under a thick blanket of snow and tucked neatly in the middle of the valley. A wide grin spread across his face. If Eric and the girl had indeed come this way, they would have been stupid not to take refuge there for at least a night or two. Even if they weren't there, he could do with a rest and a hot meal. A whore would be good company for the night, as well. The storm had bashed and beaten them, tore apart their tents as if they weighed nothing at all. They'd lost several horses and even more men, but it didn't discourage him. Nothing would, not until he had her. His hands tingled as he imagined them wrapped around her pretty little neck, and the look in her eyes as her soul left them.

"Doran," he mused to the large man beside him. "Prepare the men. We must pay this village a visit." He licked his lips and smirked.

Eric followed Bane and William to the back gates at the outskirts of the village. Women, children and the elderly had already begun to gather there. Bane and Eric were adamant that only volunteers stay behind, but not surprisingly, most of the men were willing. Now everyone stood cold and frightened and the children clutched their mothers' skirts.

Muir, Quert and Gort arrived only moments after them. They looked twice their normal size with the amount of furs they wore, and Eric shook his head at them humorously.

"Is everyone here?" Gort asked gruffly, his breath visible as white clouds when he spoke.

"No' quite," said Eric and a knot formed in his stomach. He was dreading what he was about to do, but he knew it had to be done. "Snow is still inside."

"And when will the Queen be joining us?" Gort pressed. He was anxious to get moving.

"Now," Bane stepped in. "Eric, go get her. We'll get everyone on the way and I'll meet ye on the wall shortly."

Eric nodded once and turned to William. "Come with me. I'll need yer help."

The men made their way through the crowd quickly, leaving Bane and the three dwarves to brief the crowd. The closer they got to the inn, the sicker Eric felt. He felt like he was suffocating and his hands were shaking with nerves. Not for the battle, but for Snow's reaction when she found out she wasn't staying.

Greta was waiting for them in the dining room when they entered. She'd known about the plan all along and was waiting to help. "Stay here," Eric said to both of them. "I'll bring her down." His heart was so heavy with grief that it almost weighed him down as he climbed the stairs to Snow's room. He opened the door, not even bothering to knock.

Snow was peering out the window, dressed in her trousers and white shirt. She turned to face him. "The storm's cleared," she said. "Are they sending everyone now?" Her eyebrows knitted together as she studied his face. "What's wrong?"

Eric swallowed, and held out his hand. "Come with me," he said, deflecting her question.

Snow took his hand, still curious.

As they walked down the stairs, the Eric's grip on Snow's hand got tighter, as did the knot in his stomach. William was still waiting with Greta, but the sight didn't warm him. They were there to take her away from him, and it was all his own doing.

"Your Majesty," William nodded. Greta did the same and offered Snow a large fur coat.

Snow frowned at both of them and looked at Eric. "What's going on?"

Eric opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a young man in leather armour busted through the door. He looked pale and frightened. "Sir," he trembled to Eric. "The Captain has sent for you. You must come now."

Eric didn't bother asking why, he already knew the answer. Argus and his army had been spotted. He turned to William, "Ye have to go. Now!" He ushered Snow into William's waiting arms.

Snow looked around confused as William and Greta pulled her towards the door. "Wait!" she exclaimed, trying to pry William's hands off her. "Stop! Let go of me!" She turned to Eric, reaching over William's shoulder. "Eric!"

As Eric watched them drag her away, the knot in his stomach just about crippled him. He wasn't really leaving her, he kept telling himself. It was for her own good.

Snow's panic intensified as she was pulled through the doorway. She wasn't supposed to be leaving! This wasn't the plan! Without thinking clearly, she hit William in the stomach and spun out of his grasp. William dropped like a stone clutching his stomach, and Snow ran back through the door. She flew into Eric's arms and clung to him tightly. "I'm not leaving you!" she cried. "I can't lose you again!"

Eric tightened his grip on her and buried his face in her neck. "Ye cannae stay here," he said sternly, but Snow heard the fear in his voice.

"You can't order me to go," she whispered through her tears.

"Aye, I cannae order ye," he replied, staring at her with blazing eyes. "But ye'll go just the same."

Snow felt herself stop breathing. Her heart slammed against her chest. She reached for his face as he crashed his mouth against her own. His lips were urgent but tender, and it scared her. It was a goodbye kiss.

William emerged in the doorway again, holding his stomach, and looking rather pale. Greta gave Eric an apologetic glance for letting her get away.

Eric stared at Snow, his cheeks wet from her tears. "Ye have to go," he whispered eagerly. "Ye have to go with William and Greta. For the babe."

"Promise you'll come back to me," Snow choked, still holding his face in her hands. "Promise me!"

"Ye know I cannae promise that. But I promise I'll try, with everything I have, I will try." Eric placed a hand on her stomach and Snow choked back her tears. "Tell him about me," he whispered, but his voice was strained. "Tell him I love him."

Snow couldn't reply. It was too much. She couldn't bear to even think of it. She clung to him, too scared to let him go. "I love you," she whispered.

Eric kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. "I love ye more, lass. Now go."

It was then that William took Snow by the hand and dragged her away, Greta trailing close behind. Before long they were out the door and gone into the darkness.

The shouting grew louder as he raced through the village. Men ran in all directions, lighting lanterns, gathering arrows and sharpening blades. He dodged them all, twisting and leaping his way through the commotion. Finally, he reached the wall and scaled the ladder as fast as he could. At the top, more men awaited him. They stood side by side along the wall holding their bows in trembling hands. The remaining four dwarves and Bane stood among them giving orders.

"Did she go?" Bane asked when he saw him.

"Aye," Eric nodded and he was suddenly relieved. No matter what happened here tonight, Snow would make it to Stonehill, and she would be safe.

"Good," Bane said and stared out into the valley. "They'll be here soon."

Eric followed his gaze and saw them. A large, dark formation slowly moved through the snow towards them. Two hundred men to their eighty. The odds weren't good, but he refused to think of the consequences. His battle senses had kicked in and energy coursed through his body. He knew what to do. He and Bane knew war, they knew battles. There was no reason this battle would be any different. "Are the men ready?"

Bane sighed. "Only one way to find out. They're all yers. See ye down there?

Eric nodded and a smile slowly emerged on his face. "Ye can count on it."

He watched as Bane and the four dwarves climbed down the ladder to command the men defending the gate. Eric would join them once the rebels had broken through. Hopefully, he prayed, it would be a while before that happened.

Eric faced the long line of archers. Some stared out at the horde of rebels with a horrified look on their faces, others were focused on him, their eyes begging for any piece of life-saving advice. Empathy washed over him as he remembered his first time fighting on the battlefields. It was frightening, the first time he took a man's life. He'd killed hundreds of animals before that, but nothing compared to killing another human. He was ashamed to admit that it didn't bother him as much anymore.

"Alright lads," he shouted, capturing everyone's attention. "Now's no' the time for panic." He studied their faces and it was clear they needed encouragement. "This wall is strong and ye'll be protected from up here, so try and hit as many men as ye can. As long as the gate holds, we have the advantage."

"And when they break down the gate?" a shaky voice called out.

"Well, let's just hope we've evened out the odds a bit before that happens," Eric replied and the men exchanged worried glances.

He assessed the distance between the village and the rebels. They were much closer, barely two hundred yards away. "Be sure they can't see ye," he shouted, and the men crouched below the battlements. Eric picked up a bow for himself and found a space between two archers. "On my order!"

Everything went silent as the men held their breath, waiting for Eric's command. He peered over the wall, waiting for the right moment. The rebels had to get close enough so the archers could get direct hits. Ten, nine, he began counting in his head. Eight, seven, they were getting closer and closer. Six, five, his eyes scanned the group for Argus. Four, three, he couldn't spot him anywhere. Two, he loaded his bow and drew in a big breath. "Now!" he shouted and they all rose. The Huntsman aimed and released, sending an arrow flying through the night sky. The other archers fired barely a second after him, and the arrows came down on the rebels like a crushing wave. Men spilled from their horses and many others tumbled over them. It was clear the rebels hadn't been expecting it. Eric and the archers aimed and fired again and again, sending hundreds of arrows into the air.

Despite their efforts, the rebels eventually made it to the wall, protecting themselves with wooden shields and pieces of armour from the dead. Those that still had them, abandoned their horses and huddled together at the gate.

Argus was furious as the arrows fell around him. The village had been expecting them, and he'd had no idea. A scout must have spotted them miles back. His men were dropping fast, and they had no way through the gate except for man-power.

"Break it down!" he bellowed when they reached it. He ripped a shield from a dead man's arm and used it to cover his head. He made his way to the centre of the huddle and smiled. The village had no reason to protect itself like this unless it was hiding something valuable. That only meant one thing…Eric was inside, and if he was this desperate to keep them out, the Queen was sure to be with him.

The arrows were running out fast and the rebels were intent on pounding through the gate. Eric abandoned the bow and slid down the ladder to where the rest of the villagers were supporting the gate. He quickly found Bane.

"We're out of arrows," he said. "There's still a lot of men, but we've taken down about a hundred."

"We cannae hold the gate much longer," Bane replied. "Go now."

Eric agreed, his mind racing. "Do ye think ye can hold it until then?"

Bane nodded hastily. "We'll have to. Go!"

Eric rounded up his original archers, and they exchanged their longbows for swords. He and the men raced through the village to the back gate and up the western perimeter. They remained hidden while the rebels continued to pound on the village gate. If they attacked while the gate was still closed, they'd be outnumbered. They had to wait until the rebels broke through, then they'd attack from the back while Bane's men attacked from the front.

He squeezed the sword in his hand as they waited. The leather grip felt foreign, unlike the smooth wood from his axe. He felt for it and found it still sitting faithfully by his side. Swords weren't usually his first preference, but in this case they were. His axe was great for smaller crowds, but this was no tavern brawl. It wasn't a big battle by any means; the battles he'd seen involved thousands, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Eric kept his eyes on the gate, waiting for a sign that it was about to give way. The rebels continued to pound it, again and again until Eric was sure it was about to cave. He held up his arm. "Get ready lads," he called. A loud crack soon declared that the gate had been breached. "Now!" he shouted, and the men followed him as he raced towards the rebels.

The loud crack put a grin on Argus's face. So close, he thought. His blood sang in his veins as he imagined what he'd do to the Queen once he had her. He'd love to see her flesh open slowly at the touch of his blade, but it was even better knowing that Eric would be there to see it. His hands twitched with anticipation. He laughed out loud as the gate burst open. His men charged inside, but something stopped him in his tracks. The clang of metal against metal came from all directions, not just in front of him, but behind as well. He spun around and saw they'd been ambushed from both ends.

Eric slashed, stabbed and sliced his way through the crowd. One man lunged at him, but he twisted out of the way and kicked the rebel to the ground. His sword pierced the man like a hot knife in butter. Man after man fell before him as he made his way through the gate.

He was doing his best to concentrate on his own opponents when something caught his eye. A boy no older than fifteen was on his back, with a rebel about to cut his throat. Eric dove on the rebel, pried the dagger from his hand and drove it into his chest.

Eric helped the boy up. "Go. Get away from here!" he demanded but the boy hesitated.

Before Eric could persuade him, the boy exclaimed and fell forwards. Eric caught him but it was too late; a gold-hilted dagger stuck out of his back.

He looked for the rebel responsible but wasn't expecting to see what he did. Argus stood not twenty feet away, a menacing smile plastered on his face. He'd killed the boy just to get his attention. The thought made Eric's blood boil.

He removed the knife from the boy and made a move towards Argus, but another rebel blocked his way. The man was giant, towering over him and twice his width. Eric swung his sword in figure eights, waiting for the rebel to make a move. Finally, he made a stab towards Eric, but he managed to dodge the blow. Eric swung at him, slicing the fabric of the rebel's vest. The man staggered but remained standing. Eric growled. He didn't have time for this.

The rebel slashed at him twice. The first missed, but the other caught his arm. He felt the skin tear open and his shirt became wet with blood. He managed to block a third blow to the chest, but the weight of it sent his sword flying. The rebel came at him again, this time a look of triumph in his eyes. It only made Eric smile. He dipped to avoid the blade and took out his axe, finishing the man from behind with one final swing. He spun his faithful companion in his hand and hung it back by his side.

"Eric!"

Eric shot around. Bane stumbled over to him holding his side. Blood was seeping through his fingers. "I saw Argus," he said as if he weren't injured at all.

Eric picked his sword up out of the snow. "Aye, me too," he pierced another rebel as he searched for Argus. "He's run off. I have to find him."

Bane gripped Eric's arm. "Be careful," he said.

"Always," Eric smirked and left Bane to the fading battle.

Argus kicked open the door to the last stall. He growled when it too came up empty. He'd searched every corner of the inn and the stables so far and he still hadn't found her. No matter, he thought. He hadn't checked the houses yet. Or the bakery, or the church. She had to be here somewhere.

"Argus!"

The voice made him smile. "Eric," he nodded curtly as he emerged from the stall. "It's so nice to see you."

"Enough!" Eric glared at him, but Argus just laughed.

"Why the hostility, Eric? Aren't you happy to see your old friend?"

"Ye're no friend of mine," Eric spat.

Argus's smile vanished. "Good. Then we agree on something," he hissed.

"Bane and I, we thought ye were-"

"Dead?" Argus shot. "Mm, yes, that worked out wonderful for you, didn't it? The second you think I'm dead, you run home and steal the woman that was promised to me. The woman I loved."

"She never belonged to ye, she never loved ye, Argus. This needs to end."

Argus sighed. "Oh, I agree. Tell me Eric, where is the lovely lady? I've been dying to meet her."

"Snow has nothin' to do with this. This is between us."

"Oh, but she has everything to do with this! Without your little Queen, how am I supposed to watch you suffer the way I did?"

Eric took an angry step towards Argus, who skipped backwards laughing. "Ye willnae lay a finger on her!"

Two rebels came out of nowhere and jumped on Eric, tackling him to the ground. A shooting, fiery pain suddenly engulfed him as a blade pierced his abdomen. "No!" he heard Argus yell, and the man strode over to the scuffle. "You fool!" Argus spat, and struck his blade right through the neck of the rebel that had stabbed Eric. "I need him alive!"

The other rebel pulled Eric up so he was kneeling before Argus. He hunched over, holding his stomach, trying to keep pressure on the wound. His captor kicked away his sword and threw his axe with it. Eric didn't try to stop him, he could barely move.

Argus gave an exasperated sigh. "You see Eric, I need you alive for my plan to truly work."

Eric grimaced and struggled against his captor. Pain shot through his stomach and he nearly vomited. Blood was dripping down his thigh and pooling at his knee on the floor. "Enlighten me," he spat at Argus, hissing through his teeth at the pain.

"Well, you may have surprised us with your little ambush, but you'll still lose in the end. My men are stronger than yours." Argus knelt in front of him, barely an inch between their faces. He continued with a whisper. "You see, when they've finished outside, they'll find your little whore for me. Then I'll take my time with her, slicing open her flesh, bruising her delicate neck, teasing her with death until she's begging for it. All while you watch – helpless – from the sidelines. Then right before I give her what she wants and kill her, she's going to surrender all claims to the throne and appoint me as the new king."

"That'll never work," Eric said through clenched teeth. His vision was turning red and his blood burned so hot, he thought it would melt him from the inside out. "She'll never do it."

"Oh, but I think she will," Argus chuckled as he stood up. "All I have to do is threaten your life, and she'll do anything I want."

Eric laughed, and spat blood on Argus's boots. "Well ye've already failed."

"And why's that?"

Eric paused. A smile slowly spread across his face. "Because I'm already dyin', and the queen is already long gone from here." No victory on any battlefield could ever compare to the feeling he had as he said those words.

Argus twitched and tried to force a smile. "You're lying. You'd never leave her."

"Believe what ye will, ye'll soon find out."

Argus gripped Eric roughly by the shirt. "Where is she?!" he yelled.

"Why would I tell ye that?"

Argus let go of him. He began to breathe heavily and glance around nervously. He was panicking, and it made Eric laugh again. The movement made his wound leak even harder and he bent over, trying to hold in his groan.

"Let him go Argus. It's over – ye lost," Bane suddenly said from behind them. He was covered in blood, and leaning to one side, clearly badly injured.

Eric took the sudden distraction to act. He caught his captor off guard and slipped out of his grasp, stabbing him in the heart using Argus's golden dagger. He'd hidden it in the waist of his pants after he'd pulled it from the village boy's back.

Eric turned to Argus and ran for him, despite the gaping wound in his torso, and despite the sword that Argus pointed at him. Eric dodged the blade as it swung over his head, and the pair crashed to the floor.

"It's your fault!" Argus growled as they wrestled. "It's your fault she's dead and you deserve to suffer for it!"

Eric felt himself growing weak from blood loss, but he pinned Argus down, refusing to let the man get the better of him. Bane came to his aid and hit Argus across the skull with the hilt of his sword, rendering him unconscious.

"Kill him," Eric whispered, or at least he thought he did. His head spun, and his vision started to blur. He couldn't tell if there were words coming out of his mouth.

"Eric!" Bane exclaimed, pulling his friend off of Argus. They sat together on the floor, Bane trying to support Eric against him. "Ye'll be alright, man. Ye'll be alright."

Eric's breathing was shallow, but he managed to find his voice. "Tell her…" He gasped. "Tell her, I tried."

Left, right, left, right. Snow trudged along at the back of the group. She stared at her feet and focused on putting one in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. She repeated it over and over in her head. It was all she could do to stop herself from going mad.

"Not long now," William said from beside her. "Quert said we'll reach the tunnels in a couple of hours. I think we'll have a rest soon."

Snow nodded when William spoke, but she never actually heard what he had said. Left, right, left, right. She forced her feet in front of her. It felt like a rope was tied to her, constantly pulling her back, trying to stop her from moving forwards.

Greta and William shared a concerned glance. Snow had barely spoken since they'd left the village. It was now dawn and the only words that had left her mouth were "thank you" when she was offered food and water, and "I'm fine" when they asked her if she was okay.

"Milady," Greta took hold of Snow's hand, finally getting her attention. "I'm sure he'll be alright."

Snow forced herself to smile. That's what she'd been doing all night. Whenever Greta, William or anyone would try to comfort her, she just forced a smile and nodded. She really just wished people would stop talking about it. She knew the seriousness of the situation. She didn't need people telling her it was going to be alright, when there was every possibility she'd never see Eric again.

She'd almost tried to sneak away several times during their journey. Every part of her wanted to run back to him, try and help in some way. It was his words that had stopped her each time. Tell him about me, tell him I love him. As much as it broke her heart, she kept moving forward, staying close to William and Greta. She forced the memory from her mind, replacing it with her mantra. Left, right, left, right, over and over, leaving no room for unwanted thoughts.

Snow opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sight. She looked around, trying to remember where she was. It was dark, but several torches burned on stone walls around her. It took a moment before she realised she was inside a tunnel. She sat up and took in the sleeping bodies scattered throughout the long, narrow passageway. She tried to remember getting there, but she couldn't place the memory.

Snow stretched out her legs and they ached from the long walk and the cold. She stood slowly, careful not to wake those around her. She quietly stepped over Greta and several others before she had enough room to walk freely. She pulled a torch from the wall and followed the tunnel for a short while. She didn't plan on wandering too far away, she just wanted a few moments to herself.

She hadn't been walking for long at all when an odd feeling overcame her. Her skin began to prickle and her shoulders tensed. She looked over her shoulder but saw nothing, only the dark passage that lay behind her. She suddenly felt very small and alone so she decided to go back. She'd only gone a few feet before a rock moved in the distance behind her. She spun around and gasped at the sight. Her torch fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Eric!" she exclaimed. Her eyes swooped over him, taking in his blood-stained shirt and torn vest. She reached out a trembling hand to touch him and he took it and held it to his chest. She could feel his beating heart as their eyes met. Shadows danced over his face from the flicker of the burning torch on the ground.

"Snow," he whispered and pulled her into him. He kissed her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent and his hand tangled in her hair. He trailed his mouth along her jaw to her waiting mouth.

Snow flung her arms around his neck and melted into him. She forced herself closer, almost as if she was trying to climb inside of him. Eric lifted her up so she could wrap herself around him, and he pressed her against the tunnel wall. He pulled open her shirt, revealing her swollen breasts. He grazed them with his teeth and she cried out at their sensitivity, almost exploding right then and there. He leaned into her, making her quiver in his arms and he kissed her again hard on the mouth. Her breath was heavy and fast, and her fingers knotted in his hair, locking his lips to her own.

"Snow," he groaned in her ear when they broke apart.

She tore at his clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way.

"Snow," he said again, but it made her pause. Something about it sounded strange.

"Snow!"

She sat up with a jolt, gasping for air. William was staring at her intently.

"Snow, are you alright? It sounded like you were having a bad dream."

"I – No, I'm fine," she breathed, clutching her neck. Her clammy flesh was burning and the bitterly cold wind stung her red cheeks. She took in her surroundings, and she realised they hadn't even made it to the tunnels yet. They had set up a small camp to have a rest and something to eat and she must have dozed off.

"We're moving again," Greta said to William as she walked over to them. "Oh, you're awake," she smiled at Snow but it soon faded when she saw the look on her face. "Are you alright, milady?"

"She had a bad dream," William answered for her.

Snow nodded hastily. "Yes, just a silly dream." She was so embarrassed, she tried not to look either of them in the eye. "I'm quite alright."

The group had started to move again, so Snow stood and began following William and Greta. She paused once to look over her shoulder, studying the snowy terrain. Her dream had been so real – his touch had felt so real. She scanned the horizon for any chance she might see him coming back for her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Great called when she realised Snow had stopped.

Snow forced another smile and tried to ignore the aching feeling her dream had left her. "Yes," she replied, catching up to Greta.

"I know you don't want to talk about it," Greta began slowly. "But I really think he'll be okay."

Snow sighed. "I can't afford to think like that Greta. I can't get my hopes up, because if he doesn't come back, I don't think I'll be able to cope."

Great shook her head. "I saw the way he was with you when we left the village. He'll do everything in his power to get back to you and that babe, I know it."

Snow didn't say anything else, she just clutched her stomach and prayed Greta was right.