A/N – Thanks for the continued reviews you guys!
The rest of the day's march was very miserable indeed. The moment they'd cleared the final dead body from the road, the heavens burst wide open and pelted them with tiny wet missiles. With no shelter near by, they had little choice but to press on and bear the brunt of the storm with sodden cloaks and dripping noses. Though the road was firm enough to avoid becoming muddy, puddles accumulated on it quickly, so before long their boots were soaked through as well making the afternoon all the more wretched. It seemed as though they'd lost the sunshine as well as Serra, Dorcas mused. Was gloom all their future held?
Despite the pleas from the group, Lyn refused to call an early night (what was a little rain to such a fine band of warriors, she had exclaimed. Of course, her life on the plains had given her a greater tolerance for the weather than most though). So they trudged on underneath the grey sky, their faces falling along with the rain. It was dark by the time they finally set up camp, but the soft muddy ground meant their tents were precariously anchored and Dorcas had commented that a strong wind in the night would flatten the lot. Florina, Nils and Ninian had all blanched at the thought.
Once they'd made camp, everyone crowded around the campfire (which they'd only able to start with the help of Erk's magic and a lot of patience) to dry off their sopping clothing while Lyn and Kent struggled valiantly to get the meal cooked and dished up before the rain started up again. They failed on that count, but it was a heroic effort nonetheless.
The weather's gloom was infectious so conversation was sparse and glum. Of all of them, only Erk seemed to have any energy and he was using it to emphatically rant about his favourite grievance.
"If she demands that we pay for healing, by the same logic shouldn't she pay for protection?" he proclaimed with a scowl.
His two buddies smiled to each other. Erk's bad temper was amusing, especially now he was dripping wet to boot. "She's not charging us for essential healings remember," Matthew (ever the sharp one) pointed out. "Arguably, protecting her life is also regarded as essential so it almost works out fairly," He then spread his arms helplessly. "In any case, since we have to fight anyway there's nothing to stop her from free-riding!"
"That insufferable wench," Erk growled. "I can't believe the her nerve! After all, she needs us more than we need her!" He angrily punched his palm with a fist. "I say we take a stand! Put some pressure on her!"
Wil chuckled. "You let her annoy you far too much Erk. Lighten up a little!"
"I can't, not with her around!" he snapped. "Whether she's merry or mean, that pest is the bane of my life!"
He spoke that last comment too loudly and Serra, standing only a short distance away, was able to catch it. Her nose wrinkled dangerously as she strode straight into their circle, hands indignantly on hips. She bent down in front on the mage, so that their scowling faces were no more than a few inches apart.
"What's the matter Erk? You have something to tell the class?"
Erk bowed his head, not in shame but to hide the cold fury in his eyes. "Not a thing," he murmured darkly. "I have nothing to say to you right now Serra."
"Is that so?" Serra said – it was an accusation. She bowed down further, arms furiously folded, to seek out his eyes. He didn't shy from her this time and brought his head up so their fiery gazes met and burned together. A cold war with plenty of heat raged between them, as hostile as could be without blows involved. And indeed, it seemed as though only their different genders were preventing that.
"Hey everyone! The stew's ready!" Lyn called, breaking the fuming staring contest with impeccable timing (Dorcas applauded her in his mind for that). At her call, the team scrambled for food and formed a disorderly line – with Matthew at the front as usual of course. As she dished up dinner, Lyn took a quick scan of the group and, seeing she was missing, asked, "Does anyone know where Florina is?"
"Oh yes," Sain breathed with comic wistfulness. "She's in my mind every waking hour and in my dreams every sleeping one." Kent snorted in disgust and turned his back on his fellow knight.
"Florina?" Davidos said, peeping over the book in his hands. "Oh I asked her to quickly scout out the road ahead. I told her not to be too long though. She should be back soon enough."
Just as he spoke of the devil (or perhaps angel would have been more befitting to someone so innocent?) and there she was in the sky on her steed, flying their way. But their flight had none of their usual grace. Instead it was juddering, with Makar rising and dipping erratically and a very distressed Florina vainly struggling for control. The pegasus was ignoring her efforts to pacify her and, with a thunderous neigh, soared up one last before plummeting, alarmingly, in their direction.
"Whoa Makar whoa! Watch out!"
Like a falling meteorite, pegasus and rider plunged into the group. The more agile members sprang away quickly to avoid collision. Fortunately everyone was able to get clear before she crashed. Everyone save one that is, who took the full force of the impact and was hurled forward to splat face-first into the mud. She lay on her front motionless for a moment while every else held their breaths. Dorcas (who'd been out of range, luckily enough) swallowed nervously as he foresaw what was coming.
"Merciful God. She hit her of all people. Such misfortune could not have been scripted,"
Florina, having finally wrestled some sense into her restless steed, was gaping down at her crash victim in horror. She awkwardly dismounted and hurried over to her, her face pale with concern.
"Oh Miss Serra! You're not hurt are you?"
Slowly, threateningly slowly, Serra hauled herself out of the mud with a satisfying squige. Dark, wet mud was plastered all the way down her – no part of her white garb had been spared. Her face, her hair too – the dirt was everywhere. It was comical just how messy her pristine appearance had become in a second, so much so that the three boys had their hands clamped over their mouths, desperately trying to stifle their laughter (Matthew was red-faced and bent-double in the attempt). Dorcas though gritted his teeth as he prepared for the inevitable firework display their healer was about to put on.
Wordlessly, she wiped at the mud on her face, her back still to the little Pegasus knight. There was silence as everyone held their breaths at once. Everyone knew that this accident would have been enough to anger the old Serra, let alone the nasty new one.
Sure enough, when she turned around in one sharp twist, they saw the fiery eyes of a demon.
Florina shrieked and recoiled in terror. "I…I…I…I'm so sorry, Miss Serra!" she blurted, frozen solid except for her fidgeting fingers before her mouth. "The rain…it…it confuses her…um,"
Serra took a step towards her. Then another. Her breathing was heavy and threatening. Her burning eyes were still on the pegasus knight. Then suddenly, terribly, she began to yell.
"You stupid…..clumsy…...miscreant!Look at my dress! Just look at it!" she screeched in a voice that could shatter bottles.She advanced wrathfully on the smaller girl, who backed away accordingly. "This was my absolute favourite one as well. Do you know howmuch it cost me? How much time it's going to take to wash it? How it's never going to be properly white again? Huh? Do you?" she demanded, towering terrifyingly over her."Answer me you dingbat!"
Florina's mouth flapped like a flag in the wind, but no sound was forthcoming beyond pathetic peeps. "I…I….I….I…"
Serra was pitiless and cocked her head harshly. "What, can't you answer me? Are you stupid as well as clumsy? Or has your dumbness made you literally dumb?" When no response came, she leaned in closer. "Heh. Guess I shouldn't expect anything more from Miss Useless now should I?"
The tiny girl had gone ghostly white now. Her pallid lips were trembling like a toddler's, as were her eyes, which were rapidly filling up with tears. Serra noticed this and, with a cruel sneer, went in for the kill.
"Oh? She's going to cry now! Ha, that's Miss Useless for you!" she declared viciously. She then furiously shooed her with a sharp hand motion. "Go on, begone! Go and cry into Lyn's skirt like you always do when the going gets tough, just like the pathetic child you are!"
That did it for Florina. She whimpered something that could have been another apology, but then turned and fled, gasping sobs trailing in her wake.
"Florina!" Lyn called, extending a concerned hand after her. She made to follow her but stopped long enough to give their heated healer a cross look. "Serra, that was horrible!" she exclaimed before darting off to comfort her best friend.
An awful silence descended on the group. Serra was taking hot, heavy breaths, still smouldering like a fading fire that would flare up again if stoked. Erk was staring at her icily, while Wil, Kent and Sain were all expressionless, not knowing how to react. Sneaky Matthew had slipped quietly away during the exchange. Nils and Ninian looked nothing short of terrified and had backed away to the safe distance, lest they would incur Serra's terrible wrath if any closer.
Suddenly she turned on them all. "What are you all looking at?!" she demanded. "Have you never seen an idiot be scolded before? Sheesh! A bunch of dolts like you should be familiar with the sight." She smirked but without humour. Too angry for that.
Wil coughed. "You went too far there Serra," he murmured, with admirable courage. He wasn't laughing anymore, no-one was.
Erk, not one to miss a chance to criticise Serra, coldly seconded him "That was appalling, to scold her so harshly for what was just an accident," he said. "Very unbefitting a cleric. Let me tell you, when you've both calmed down you owe her a grovelling apology."
Well, that sloshed fuel onto Serra's fire in buckets.
"I don't owe any of you anything!"
The piercing scream had their hands dashing for their ears. Then Serra's breathing doubled to short sharp gasps, two to the second. Tears were really falling now, she couldn't stop them. Anger, anguish, guilt and boundless self-pity contorted her face, just as they were doing to her soul.
"She's feeling it. The true cost of being Arres," Dorcas noted. His brow furrowed, a sudden grim determination rising in his eyes. "That does it! Things cannot continue like this. It's time for me to take charge."
Hefting his axe onto his shoulders he advanced past the others to stand before her. His hulking form totally dwarfed the delicate healer and the brutal axe he carried (by itself longer than Serra was tall) made their relative positions in terms of power perfectly clear. Those tiny eyes of his were utterly devoid of emotion as he spoke.
"You. You're coming with me," he said impassively.
Serra wiped her face and looked up. As besieged as she was by personal demons, she somehow managed to sound undaunted as she bravely faced up to him. "I don't want to," she mumbled defiantly. Tears still rested on her cheeks.
"Wasn't a question," he murmured back. "Will you come willingly or do I have to drag you? It's your decision."
Serra didn't deign him a reply. She just folded her arms and turned her back on him, like a sulking toddler who hadn't got her own way.
"Dragging you it is then."
Without even pausing, he extended a muscular arm and wrapped it around her waist. She yelled in disbelief as he effortlessly hauled her onto his shoulders and held her there. As he began to carry her away, she screamed shrilly and desperately hammered her fists into his back.
"Unhand me now you brute!" she shrieked. "Help me! Mugger! Kidnapper! Rapist! Help me! Someone help me!"
Her blows were like rain on a fish and Dorcas barely felt them at all. Her cries were more effective though – the honourable men of the band not the kind to ignore such pleas for aid. Kent and Sain went to block him, the hands wavering by their sword-hilts. They were stopped by a gesture from Lucius though, who stepped forward in front of Dorcas himself.
"Dorcas? What are you intentions?" he asked. It was a curious (and concerned) question, not a demand.
The axe-man gave him a dismissive wave. "I'm not going to harm her. Leave this to me, I'll set her right."
Lucius handsome face was doubtful, but nonetheless he nodded and stepped aside for him, Kent and Sain doing likewise. Dorcas acknowledged them with a slight dip of the head as he passed them, the struggling sage still on his shoulder. He left the group and headed for a patch of woodland next to which they'd made camp. The faces that watched him go were dubious. Few believed that he could bring Serra back around. But all agreed he merited a try. Honest Dorcas had earned their trust with the unfaltering reliability he'd shown in all their endeavours since joining. The least he deserved was a chance at this, even if he was doomed to failure.
A/N – I'm willing to bet you've never seen Serra act like that in any fanfic ever! :-)