Was the second moon disc for General Aleyn or Travion? And did Vistra jostle him on accident… or on purpose?
Danel was aiming his second moon disc at Travion. And Vistra… well, the answer to that question is entirely up to you. What do you think?
Could things get any worse?
*sigh* yes, unfortunately. Things will get worse. (perhaps not just in this chapter, but in future ones)
Author's Note: Yes. I am still alive. I apologize for the very delayed update (for me, anyway). Let me explain. First, two weekends ago, I managed to finish writing this fic. It was a total of 32 chapters. Unsurprisingly, I was happy that it was finished. Of course, no more than 48 hours later, I was forced to reboot my computer from a messed up quirk. Yeah. So I lost everything. And now I need to rewrite more than a third of my fic. Not only that, but over the last two weeks I've had to take several AP tests. And if you're in high school, you know that AP tests are probably the worst tests you might have to take during your high school career. Thank god mine is nearly finished. And not only that, I had to get prepared for/attend Prom (which is highly overrated, by the way). So, to say the least, I've been very busy. But the tests are over now, I can start writing again. But who knows how much of this fic will change the second time around. I'm not as angry about having to rewrite the fic anymore, but I was pissed off (to say the least) when it first happened. Anyway. Let's get back to the fic.
19. On her own
Nobles' Bane: Chapter 17
Fiddling absently with the gray sash she still held in her hands, Vistra sat down on one of the seats in the parlor. Even once everyone was seated, there was an uncomfortable silence that stubbornly refused to be broken.
Suddenly, a shadow fell across her and she lifted her gaze.
To see Lord Kenrictonerian leaning unusually close over her and studying her intently. In her distraction, she had not noticed that he had left his seat.
"You've come to help Nobles' Bane, haven't you?" he suddenly asked. "Do you know them personally or only through Nathan?"
She blinked and leaned backwards, away from him, in her seat. "Excuse me?"
"Well, you see," he said, taking a seat right beside her, "I also want to help Nobles' Bane. But I do not know them personally, so I've come to Nathan."
"You want to help Nobles' Bane?" she repeated dully.
He nodded. "I know what you're thinking. A noble wanting to help Nobles' Bane? What sensible noble would want to help people who had expressly been working against other noble-borns?"
That had been her thought process.
"Well, not too long ago, someone I knew was put into jail."
The grip she had around Nathan's sash tightened.
"And I told Nathan, who said that he knew people who would be able to help. Later, I learned that those people were Nobles' Bane. And so now, I want to help. As a way to show thanks," he finished steadily.
Vistra slowly turned her head to stare at Nathan, who was silent.
Clarine laughed nervously. "How foolish of me, I haven't even introduced the two of you. Lord Kenric, this is Vistra. Vistra, this is Lord Kenric."
"Lord Kenrictonerian of Ra'kaul," Vistra said sharply.
Clarine nodded. "Yes."
So. They knew the truth then. Had Ra'kaul confessed or had Nathan pushed the truth out?
"Vistra?" Kenric frowned. "Have we already met? Your name sounds familiar."
Nathan's lips quirked into a lop-sided smile. "Yes, you have already met Vistra, actually."
"Oh? When?"
Vistra glared at Nathan. He ignored her.
"It was not too long ago; I was looking for a gift for Clarine's birthday, when you found me in a dark alley with--"
Kenric's eyes widened. "With a prostitute straddled over you." He stared at Vistra. Stared at her scar. "But your hair. Was it not red?"
Nathan nodded. "Yes, it was."
Clarine jabbed her husband in the ribs when she noticed Vistra's glare getting deadly. "Nathan, hush."
"Well, then," Kenric said after a moment. "You never answered my question. Do you know Nobles' Bane personally, or do you only know them through Nathan?"
"Funny you should ask that, Kenric," Nathan said before she could respond. "Because, you see, Vistra is actually one of the members that make up Nobles' Bane."
Kenric's black eyes turned on her again. They flickered with silent surprise. "You are the third and last member." It was not a question.
She turned away from Kenric scornfully. "You said that you are here because you wish to help Nobles' Bane, because you want to thank them for rescuing someone you knew."
Kenric nodded, puzzled as to where she was going with this.
Nathan was starting to glare at her.
"Well, you've been misinformed. You ought not to be thanking Nobles' Bane; they were not there. It was Nathan here who rescued your friend. Not Nobles' Bane."
Kenric's jaw dropped. He looked confused as well as surprised.
Nathan and Vistra glared at each other.
"Well, Kenric, there's also something else you should know. Your friend, the servant girl Alisse. She is actually--"
Vistra was about to dart over to Nathan's seat and smack him over the head, but, amazingly, Clarine got to him first.
"Jonathan!" She jabbed him in the chest hard with her elbow.
Nathan's eyebrows flared when he heard Clarine call him by his full name. But instead of choosing to comment, he put a hand over his chest and grimaced.
"Those are not your secrets to reveal," Clarine said in a softer tone. "Please stop."
And Nathan stopped.
A gentle hand closed over her fist, and Vistra realized that she had jumped to her feet sometime during the argument and was still standing. She jerked her hand away from Kenric's own and stepped out of reach.
"For Mithros' sake, Vistra, sit down," Nathan grumbled. "You're making me nervous."
She was now going to stay standing for as long as possible. She shifted her feet, getting into a more comfortable position.
Kenric smiled when he saw what she was doing. Clarine indulgently shook her head. Nathan glared.
"Well, are we going to go and help Axe and Danel or not?" she finally demanded.
"Oh, well what do you suggest?" Nathan snorted. "Shall we just storm the castle, the three of us, break into the dungeon, and release them?"
She paused as if to think about it. "Yes," she said flatly.
Nathan crossed his arms over his chest and just stared at her. "That's suicide, and you know it, Vistra. We might as well just tie each other up and offer ourselves to the Lord Provost."
"Do you have any other ideas?" Vistra glared.
"We need an army," Nathan said.
She gave him a look of disbelief. "Oh, sure. We'll just go down to the blacksmith's and ask him to give us an army, the best that a sack of gold can buy."
"That would make it easy," Nathan said contemplatively.
She glowered at him, not liking how he could be so lighthearted at a time like this.
"Maybe you should sit down after all, Vistra," Kenric suddenly broke in. He looked up at her appealingly. "We need level heads to think about this."
Clarine nodded. "Perhaps some tea? It could be calming."
"I don't want to be calmed," she said flatly.
Nathan snorted. "Perhaps you should take some tea, Vistra. You look like you need to be calmed."
"Damn it, Nathan!" She jumped towards him, not sure what she wanted to do, but sure that she wanted to do something. But Kenric leapt up onto his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders. Which just completely set her off.
She grabbed one of his wrists and twisted, leaning forward and trying to throw him off her back at the same time. But Kenric was somehow prepared, and fell into her pull, flipping off her back and landing easily on his feet. He quickly grabbed the hand that held his wrist, keeping her from letting go, and twisted, sending her tottering off balance. Her other hand, clenched into a fist, flew towards his face, and he had to let go of her other hand to duck. She reached out with her foot, tucking it behind his ankle and trying to send him sprawling. But he saw her move and lifted his foot, bringing it down on top of her own ankle and sending her falling flat onto the floor, hitting her head on one of the parlor seats. Kenric pinned her down onto the ground, shoulders heaving with effort, black curls tumbling across his forehead.
Vistra stared at him for a second, feeling a dull ache on the back of her head where she had knocked it onto the chair.
And then she crumpled, shoulders slumping and her head dropping so that none could see her face.
"Gods. I'm an utter failure."
The tight grip that Kenric had on her limbs suddenly disappeared, and Vistra found herself being lifted from the floor by gentle arms.
He smoothed back the blonde hair that fell into her face after placing her on the couch. "No, you're not," he said gently. "You're just angry, that's all."
She turned away.
He peered down at her, coming impossibly close, refusing to let her glance away. "You could have flattened me, if you had really tried. If you had controlled your anger, your temper, and just fought with skill instead of emotion, you could have bested me."
"Leave me alone." She tried to sit up and lean away from him.
"You aren't a failure. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Vistra viciously slapped the hand that threatened to come near. "I said, leave me alone!" Glancing around, she noticed that Nathan and Clarine had left the room.
Kenric slowly pulled back his slapped hand. He stood, no longer kneeling over her form on the couch. His black eyes grew hard and distant, no longer soft and gentle.
"So be it then," he said coldly, "So be it."
~*~*~
Dressed in her black shirt and breeches with her usual green sash around her waist, Vistra crept along the palace courtyard. Bile and her things had been left behind in Nathan's stables. She had left Bile while he had been asleep. He would be angry when he awakened.
Oh well.
The night breeze cut across her cheek like a blade; she had decided against wearing her black scarf around her face.
No more hiding. She was sick of it.
She froze, stopping behind a tree and listening intently. She peeked behind the tree trunk and stared closely at a spot of darkness not too far away from her.
Quietly, carefully, she pulled her whip from its spot at her waist. She brought her arm up and then brought the whip cracking down, the tip of it striking the suspicious spot of darkness she had studied.
There was a sudden yelp as she saw motions of someone scrambling back.
But then she felt the cold blade of a sword pressing into the back of her neck.
Just as she was about to twist and drop away, another cold blade was pressed to the front of her neck. She was trapped.
"Drop the whip."
She reluctantly opened her hand, letting her whip fall onto the grass. She lifted her head and tried to survey the situation, how many men there were, who they were, how she could possibly escape, but it was too dark.
As if reading her thoughts, the man who held the knife to her neck spoke. "Finding it too dark to see, thief? Let's take care of that. Nigel, give us some light."
From a little over a foot away, someone else responded to the issued command. There were wavering whispers, and then a beige light flickered to life over a soldier's palm. He was using his Gift to provide some light.
There was an intake of breath from the man who was closest to her, the one holding his knife tight to her neck. She felt the other man, another soldier who held the sword blade by her head, also waiver.
"So. It appears that we've captured the last member of Nobles' Bane." She slowly turned her head and saw who it was. Lord Travion. Of course. Who else could it be? It was ironic and strangely fitting this way. "We've caught the last member of Nobles' Bane… and she is a woman."
She gave him a hot glare. "Is there a problem with that?"
His stormy blue eyes were cold. "Should there be?"
"You sounded shocked," she grinded out.
"Only because I was," he said quite matter of factly.
His manner was so blank and neutral that she found it hard not to flinch.
When had he become so hard and cold? Had the nobles done that to him? You're my brother for Gods' sake, she wanted to shout.
No. He was her brother.
For a moment, a plea for release was about to escape her lips.
No. I will not beg from a noble. Ever. Not even if he used to be my brother.
"Damn you to the Black God's hands, Travis," she glared at him as he tied her hands behind her back after lowering his weapon. The sword point remained at the back of her neck, a constant reminder of her futile situation.
He suddenly became still. "Pardon?"
"You heard me," she said defiantly.
He stared at her. And after a moment, she began to understand why he was looking at her so strangely.
He doesn't recognize me. He doesn't realize that I'm the same servant girl he had slapped just a little while ago. The girl who called him Travis.
And with her scar and blonde hair, surely he would never make a connection from her to the black haired servant girl who had escaped his grasp.
Lord Travion returned to binding her hands. Then he pulled her in front of him and commanded her to walk.
"Come on, let's go. I've got a nice cozy cell just waiting for your company."