The Watchful
Thorn watched quietly as one of the three mages who were also bandits dismantled his protective circle. The scenery shimmered in front of her, and then a circle of land with a moderately sized tent (it was bigger than hers, at least) appeared. The mage's circles were good: nobody could see or hear what went on within. She quickly brushed past the mage and threw back the flap of the tent to enter.
"Asianna?"
Asianna lay on her bedding, squinting up at the light that Thorn had just revealed by opening the flap of the tent.
"Egads, is it morning already?" Asianna asked with a sigh.
Thorn smiled. "Late morning actually."
"I hope you don't mind, but I think I'll just continue laying were I am. It's awfully comfortable and relaxing. You should try sleeping in late too, Thorn."
Thorn shrugged, disappointed and yet not willing to show it. During the first couple months of their forced attendance with the bandits, Asianna had always been ecstatically happy whenever Thorn had visited her. She had been dreadfully afraid of the bandits and nearly cried every time one came near her. But as years passed, her ecstatic joy had dwindled down into a ritual hug as a greeting at the beginning of every one of Thorn's visits. Just recently, perhaps a month or two ago, even those hugs had stopped.
Thorn pulled up a stool next to where her sister was lying. "Have you had breakfast?"
Asianna fluttered a hand in the air. "I'll have one later."
"But later, it won't be breakfast, it'll be lunch." Thorn said lightly.
Asianna shrugged. "Then I'll have lunch then."
Thorn stared down at Asianna uncertainly. She noticed how shiny her curly chestnut hair was. She wondered why she had never noted it before. It was so different from her own. Her eyes were a warm brown color, and her full, plump cheeks had a naturally pleasing color and look to them. Pretty. Why had she never realized that her younger sister was pretty?
"You know, Asianna, I've never really noticed it before, but you are wonderfully beautiful."
Asianna's face softened. "Thank you for the compliment, Thorn. You are also very beautiful."
Thorn laughed. "Yes, as beautiful as my horse's behind."
Asianna laughed and shook her head indulgently at her. "I heard a great racket earlier this morning. Have you done something to upset Torhte again?"
Thorn shrugged. "Nothing more than usual."
Asianna shook her head seriously this time. "You shouldn't do that, Thorn. Sometimes you make him so angry that it frightens me. What if he were to hurt you? What if he kills you? Will you leave me here alone with the bandits?"
"Torhte won't kill me. I'm to valuable to him." Thorn said bitterly.
An awkward silence followed her statement and Thorn struggled to say something.
"I brought you something." She finally said, reaching into a cloak pocket. She pulled out the perfect red rose that her staff had given to her earlier. "Here."
Asianna smiled. "Thank you.. It's very beautiful." Asianna reached for the rose and carefully took it from Thorn, wary of the thorns.
"It's time." a voice said by the entrance of the tent.
Thorn stood. "Well, then, Asianna. I'll see you next week."
Asianna nodded and settled more deeply into her pallet. "Yes, and thank you for the beautiful flower."
Thorn nodded back and exited the tent. She didn't stay behind to watch the mage replace his protective circle. Before she returned to her own tent, she had to check up on the hostages. The male Rider who had been unconscious the day before was wide awake and instantly suspicious of her. Lathan glowered at the Rider and Druce hung back, believing that the bound Rider wasn't dangerous.
But of course he was wrong.
Thorn stopped a few feet in front of the Rider and glanced at him, considering. The Rider sat in front of his stake wearing breeches and boots. His bloody shirt had been taken off so that she could treat and bandage his side.
"The wound in your side must be worse than I thought, for you not to be able to take the chance to escape when you have gotten yourself out of my binding vines." she said quietly.
The hostage gazed up at her, eyes widening, body frozen in surprise. Lathan's sword was out in a second and hovering threateningly in front of the Rider.
Thorn strode over to inspect the ground behind the captive and his stake. Her pieces of vine lay broken and charred. She knelt to pick up one of the blackened pieces. The Rider must have used his Gift to burn off her vine.
"Poor thing." She murmured to the vine. Most plants were horribly frightened of fire. Understandably.
She felt a surge of anger toward the Rider. She strode back in front of him and gave him a hard look. "I suggest that you be less blatant with your Gift. You would anger Torhte if he were to find out and you have already angered me." She still held the charred piece of vine between her fingers.
"And who is this Torhte?" The Rider bit out. Because he had been unconscious, he had been lucky enough not to meet Torhte yet.
"He is the man who will hurt your companions if he were to find out that you were trying to escape." she snapped back. She turned to Lathan. "We will need rope for him. I refuse to use vine."
Lathan nodded and turned to give Druce a pointed look.
Druce blinked, taking in Lathan's look, and then sighed. He left the tent and then came back a few moments later with some rope.
Lathan took the rope and tied it securely around the Rider's wrists and ankles. Thorn saw the Rider wince when he accidentally tried to move his injured body.
After he was done, Thorn knelt down beside the Rider and carefully retreated his side after taking off his bandages. When she had finished placing the last herb and settled the new bandage around his wound, she stepped back to study her handiwork.
"Where did you learn to do that?" the Rider asked curiously. He was visibly looking better and more relaxed than he had when she had first entered his tent.
She glanced back at him before she ducked out of his tent. "I didn't." And it was the truth. She hadn't been taught the art of healing with plants. She was merely told. The plants told her what sorts of things they were good for, how to use them most effectively to treat an ailment.
When she entered the female Rider's tent, the woman actually smiled. "Well, it's finally great to see another female face." she said. "I was starting to expect that the only bandits at the encampment were smelly, disgusting males."
"They are." Thorn said in reply.
The woman frowned. "But you're a woman." Then she stopped to think. "Are you not also a bandit?"
Thorn chose not to reply, but no, she didn't think of herself as a bandit. She thought of herself more as a hostage who was forced to do bandit-like things. At least, that's what she told herself when she was feeling guilty. Some of the things that Torhte wanted her to do made her sick afterwards, but she was willing to do anything to keep her sister from coming to harm. After all, isn't that what an older sibling is supposed to do? Keep the younger sibling from harm?
Thorn made efficient work, quickly checking the woman's leg injury, which was healing to her satisfaction. She wanted to return to her tent to be by herself as soon as possible.
She was in such a hurry to leave the tent that she did not hear the woman shout a thank you after her.
She had to hurry past the blue-eyed Rider and his tent on her way to her own. But what she saw in front of it made her stop dead in her tracks. In front of the Rider's tent, instead of whole, healthy mushrooms, dirty, hacked up little white pieces lay scattered everywhere.
She didn't see the Rider studying her carefully. She didn't see Druce giving her strange looks.
She knelt to touch the ground for a moment, fingering a piece of mushroom. "Did Torhte do this?" she murmured quietly to herself.
"What are you doing?" Druce finally asked her exasperatedly. "What, are you mourning over mushrooms? By the gods, Thorn, they are only mushrooms! Can't you just hurry up and get back to your tent and stop wasting my time?"
She whirled on the bandit so fast that her staff's movement made an audible swish as it moved through the air. Lathan's hand on her arm kept her from acting with violence.
"Thorn." Lathan said warily.
Thorn took the moment to contain herself, but found her stare slowly moving from Druce to Lathan. "What? Didn't you hear what he said?"
"Thorn." Lathan said warningly.
Her mouth slowly dropped open. Realization hit her like a brick. "You agree with him, don't you." She waited, but he didn't speak. "You agree with him." she said again. "You think that I'm wasting your time? Acting like a fool?"
"Look, Thorn, I could understand your want to provoke Torhte. It's a technique you use from losing yourself. But this? This grieving over plants? That I can't understand."
She stared at him, knowing that he could see that she was hurt, and hating it. How could he seem to understand her so well at one moment and then not at all in another? During her years with the bandits, she'd had nobody. Sure, she had Asianna to talk to, but how could she talk to her about her worries and fears? She couldn't turn to Asianna as a constant companion. And how could she turn to any of the bandits, who were keeping her with them as their prisoner? Even Lathan, close to him as she was, was more loyal to Torhte than to her. He might like Torhte less, but he held Torhte as his authority. If she were to do anything that would hurt the bandit group, he would turn her in, without a doubt. So who did she have to turn to? Who had been her companion? Her confidant? The plants. The plants didn't force her to kill and fight for them. They didn't keep her contained in a tent all day. The plants accepted her, offered her food and companionship. They were the only friends she had. And understandably, people grieved for their friends.
She turned away from Lathan but found herself gazing at the Rider. Him again. Why was he always watching her? She tossed him a glare before turning away.
"By all means, Druce, let's not waste anymore of your damn precious time."
