I sat up in a cold sweat. My sheets were wrapped tightly around me, and gripped me like strangling arms. I gasped, and struggled out of them. My hands shook, and my head swam with lingering nightmares. I twisted out of the clinging sheets, and stood shaking. My knees gave out, and I fell to the ground. My breaths were shaking with my hands, each heartbeat banging against my ribs. I leaned back, and placed my hand over my hammering heart.
Night after night I woke terrified. My heart pounding, my body shaking. I could never remember my dreams, I just felt as if something was ready to drag me back into a nameless hell if I feel asleep again. I waited for my legs to regain their strength, and stood. I staggered, and caught myself against one of the supporting tent poles.
Slowly I dressed, and let my eyes slide over the scars crisscrossing my arms. Wounds healed by a staff or vulunary left no scars. These were the scars I had given myself. I splashed my face with some cold water, and walked out. The sun was not up yet, and the early morning was starless. Thick clouds had rolled in, and threatened snow. I chuckled, not the one I used with my mask, but a hollow, dark chuckle. I walked softly past the rows of tents, mentally counting off the inhabitants of each.
I walked out of our camp, and stopped. I sank down to the ground, the nightmare still hounding after me. I could feel it hovering just out of recollection, coiled to spring back upon me, and drag me away. I shrank against the tree, and reached for the small dagger I kept tucked away in my tunic. I drew it, and rolled my sleeve up. Already there were numerous half-healed cuts, and several scars. I ran the knife lightly over my arm, causing a stinging cut. I shivered in the cold night air. Everything was cold. My breath fogged in front of me, and the air I breathed in burnt my lungs. My damp hair was sticking to my head.
A familiar noise brought my head up, and my heart racing. I clenched my dagger in my hand, and rolled onto the balls of my feet. I scanned the woods carefully, my breath held so I could hear better. My heart beat resounded in my ear, and it finally came. An arrow flew out of the underbrush, and I rolled to my feet, ready. I listened carefully, my eyes scanning the woods for additional attackers. I was also considering my options. The soft singing note of a sword being drawn from its scabbard rang loudly in my ears. Now I knew there was more then one. The question was know, who many more were there?
Another arrow flew past me, and when I dodged a myrmidon leapt from behind a tree. I barely had time to right myself before it attacked. I clenched the dagger in my hand, cursing the fact I had left my sword in my tent. I remembered seeing it, and it would be easier with it in my hand, instead of the almost useless dagger there now. I blinked, and lost the myrmidon. That was the problem, myrmidons were fast. I rolled forward to miss an arrow, and barely missed the myrmidon next attack. I hopped to my feet, and plunged the dagger into the myrmidon's chest. It crumpled, and lay still. I watched for the archer. They seemed to have retreated, for no more arrows were fired. I had relaxed, and turned back to camp when a javelin flew from the bushes, barely missing my head.
I whipped around, jumping away from the thrown object, and watched the cavalier canter swiftly from the trees, and grab up his weapon. I waited for him to attack again, planning to attack him when he had no weapon. I watched the javelin's smooth arc, and jumped for the cavalier. My attention had been soully on the cavalier, and as I jumped away from shoving my knife into his heart an arrow hit me. I staggered back in surprise, and looked at the arrow head sticking through my shoulder. I stood still, listening, and finally heard a rustling in the brush. I whipped around, and finally saw the archer crouched among the underbrush. I pretended not to see him, and walked closer. The archer looked back before trying to scoot away, and I jumped. I grabbed a fistful of the archer's tunic, and buried my dagger in his back, as close to his heart as I could. I moved back to the clearing with its two fallen bodies, and looked them over for any sing of who they were with.
There was nothing. They were, I decided, just common bandits. I shivered and looked up at the sky, Snow was starting to fall. I looked back to camp, knowing that it would soon be alive with activity. I rolled forward on the balls of my feet, and was about to stand up when something hit me with a sickening crack. I slumped forward, realizing too late that I hadn't killed the archer. Another arrow hit my arm, and I whipped around. The archer had propped himself against a tree, shaking, and obviously dying. He pulled one last arrow back on his bow string, and fired. I tried to toss myself to the side, but the arrow hit. It drove deep into my chest, puncturing the lung. I fell on my side, wincing in pain. My vision was becoming steadily blurry, and it hurt to breath. Everything faded at the edges, and left.
Hector of Ostia grabbed his axe and walked out into the lightly falling snow. Eliwood, who had developed a habit of sleeping late, was gone. His bed had still been a mess, so Hector had decided the young Lord would return soon. The only thing that worried Hector was Eliwood hadn't taken his sword with him. The battered weapon was sitting quietly in its sheath by Eliwood's bed. Hector shrugged off his faint worry, and looked about the camp. Florina, and Fiora were delighted with the snow, as were there pegasai. Hector liked the snow, but it made it hard to fight.
A brown and red blur dashed up, and Matthew stopped in front of Hector, gasping wildly for breath. "Lord Hector, just the man I wanted to see on this fine morning. Tell me something, I've not been shirking my duties lately in any way."
"I suppose not." Hector wondered at the thief.
"Great, then could I ask one small favor of you, my liege?" Matthew looked pleadingly at Hector. "Please hurry with your answer, I'm in dire peril while you think."
"Sure, but why." Hector was surprised to find a bucket shoved at him.
"I was supposed to get some water for the kitchen, but I ran into Guy. It seems he and Serra are in league with each other, and now they're both chasing me."Matthew explained hurriedly.
"Ma---athe---ew!" Serra called loudly. "Where are you!" Matthew cringed, and ducked behind Hector.
"Fine, I'll do it." Hector his a smile.
"Thank you, you have no idea how much I appreciate this, Milord!" Matthew said breathlessly, then he was off. Guy came dashing past, looking murderous, and missing a hair holder. Hector sighed, knowing he should have thought to ask why Guy was chasing the thief this time. Serra came running by at a slower pace, and stopped when she saw Hector.
"Lord Hector! Good Morning!" Serra chirped in her high soprano voice. "Have you seen Matthew?"
Hector nodded. "He went that way." Hector pointed in the opposite direction Matthew, and Guy had gone. It was one thing for Matthew to be chased down and gutted by Guy, but it was another entirely for him to be caught by Serra.
"Thank you! Serra grinned, and jogged slowly off. Hector swung the bucket in his hand, and headed for the river they had camped by. He passed one of the sentries, Lucius, who was sitting on a tree stump, humming to himself.
"Good Morning Lord Hector." He greeted.
"Good Morning Lucius." Hector nodded to the bishop, and walked down the slightly visible trail to the river. He whistled as he walked, trying to drown out the silence that always accompanied snow. It muffled every sound, and made Hector nervous. He wound his way to the river, and dipped the bucket into the cold water. A bright red bird sang out passionately from its forlorn perch on a dead branch, and reminded Hector vaguely of Eliwood. Bright, and optimistic in the darkest situations.
Though something about his friend had begun bothering him. He couldn't exactly say what it was, but the red head wasn't acting right. First Hector had attributed it to the death of Lord Elbert, but it had been months ago, and Eliwood was still acting strangely. He was never around people when he could help it, and Hector had seen his shoot strangely abhorring looks at people from under his bangs. He hadn't really talk to Hector since his Lord Elbert died. Certainly he had carried on meaningless conversations with him, but it always seemed forced, like Eliwood was trying hard to hide something. Another thing was the fact Eliwood hadn't said anything about his father's death to Hector. Never an 'I miss him', or anything like that. Just meaningless silence, or maybe it wasn't do meaningless.
Hector forgot to whistle on his way back to camp, caught up in his thoughts the red bird had brought on. Hector finally stopped, realizing he had gotten of the trail while he thought. he muttered to himself, and was about to head back to the trail when he saw something. A body sprawled out on the ground. Instantly Hector was alert. He walked forward cautiously, and prodded the body with his foot. It didn't move. Hector rolled it over, and checked for a pulse. There was none. He looked it over quickly for an insignia, and found none. He noted the stab wound in the back, and decided to check for more bodies. He'd hear it from Lyn if he didn't know everything there was to know about the incident. He found a discarded bow, and the underbrush got very thick. Hector put an arm in front of his face to shield it, and pushed through into a clearing.
A horse stood dejectedly over a body, and another lay near Hector's feet. He frowned, and check the body near him for a wound. Like the other body it had a single stab wound, but on its chest. Hector started towards the body the horse was standing over, but he stopped short when he saw the third body. The familiar red hair had drawn his attention, but then he saw the blood on his lips, and how pale he was. Hector dashed to Eliwood's side, and felt carefully for a pulse. The bucket full of water dropped to the ground, forgotten. Hector breathed slight sigh of relief when he found a pulse. It was faint, but there. The red head had an arrow through his shoulder, His arm, his leg, and the one lodged in his chest. He was still breathing, but they were shallow breaths that gurgled.
"Eliwood." Hector shook the red head gently. "Eliwood, wake up." Eliwood didn't stir. Hector swore to himself, and decided what to do. Eliwood might not last long enough to bring a healer to him, but could he be moved with out being killed? Hector listened to the shallow breaths which we becoming more erratic as he listened, and carefully set to work. He snapped the head off the arrow in Eliwood's shoulder, and carefully pulled the stout shaft out. Eliwood stirred slightly. His face drawing tight with pain.
Hector tied a strip of cloth from his cloak around the wound, and did the same to the wound in his leg, and arm. Hector left the arrow in his chest alone, and carefully gathered the young lord in his arms. He was surprised at how light Eliwood was, but thought little of it as he quickly made his way back to camp. He hoped he'd run into Lucius on the edge of camp. Hector went as fast as he could, and broke the tree cover panting. He was glad to see Lucius still sitting on the tree stump.
"Lord Hector!" Lucius jumped off his stump, and hurried over. "Is that...?"
"It's Eliwood, and he'd alive, but not by much." Hector explained quickly. Lucius looked over the young noble quickly, and frowned.
"I need to find Sister Serra, or Lady Priscilla." Lucius told Hector. "The arrow has to be removed before we can heal him." Lucius beckoned for Hector to follow him, and walk quickly into the camp. The first person they saw was Erk.
Lucius snagged the sage by his sleeve, and whispered urgently to him. Erk glanced at Eliwood, and trotted off. Lucius continued on, and lead Hector to a tent. The bishop helped Hector set Eliwood down on a bed, and began to carefully undo his tunic. Serra came running in, gasping, and flushed.
She walked over to help Lucius, and squealed. "Ooh! It's worse then Erkie said it was!" Lucius nodded, and the two carefully set to work.
"We'll need a dagger to get the arrow out..." Lucius said to himself. He stood up, picking up Eliwood's tunic, and a silver dagger fell out of the cloth. He blinked in surprise, and knelt to pick up the weapon. He examined it, and shook his head. "We'll need a clean one." Priscilla, and Erk came in at that moment, Erk with a pan of hot water, with a dagger resting in it.
"We came as fast as we could." Priscilla rested a hand on her chest, and came over to looked at Eliwood. "Can we really save him?"
"Of course we can." Serra answered in a brisk tone. "If Erkie dear will hurry up with that water."
Erk brought the water over, and scowled at Serra. "Don't call me 'Erkie dear'."
Serra shrugged. "Fine, now you hurry up Lucius."
"Right." Lucius spoke in his soft voice, kneeling down, and taking the dagger from the water. He had pulled his long hair back into a quick ponytail, and rolled his sleeves up past his elbows. "Lord Hector, and Erk, if you'll hold him down I'd appreciate it." Lucius waited for the two to get in place, and took deep steadying breath. He instructed Serra to help him, and had Priscilla stand by with a mend staff. With a slightly shaky hand Lucius carefully cut the skin around the arrow. Crimson welled up around the cut, and spilled over. Eliwood twitched slightly, but stilled. Lucius glanced at his patient's face, and went back to work quickly. Eliwood soon became more violent in his struggles, but he hadn't uttered a sound yet. Lucius finally found the arrow's head, and it was lodged between Eliwood's ribs. Carefully the bishop removed the arrow, causing more blood to flow, and Eliwood to gasp in pain. His breathing came faster and shallower.
Lucius looked over the wound one more time, and sat back. "Lady Priscilla, now." Priscilla nodded, and gentle touched the orb of her staff to Eliwood. The wound began to slowly mend before their eyes, and was soon gone. Eliwood took a deep breath, and began coughing.
"Sit him up, and lean him over a bit." Serra commanded. Hector did as told, and Eliwood started coughing harder. Serra dug a handkerchief out of a pocket, and held it to Eliwood's mouth. Soon the cloth was flecked with blood. Eliwood stopped, coughing, and relaxed slightly.
"You can lay him back down now." Lucius told Hector. "He's finished coughing." Lucius was washing his hands in the water Erk had brought. Hector nodded, and lay Eliwood back down.
"Alright now, shows over." Serra shooed Erk, and Priscilla out of the tent with her bloody handkerchief. "Need any more help Brother Lucius?"
No, I've got it." Lucius assured her. Serra nodded, and trotted out with a yell of 'E---erkie dear! Wait for me!'. Lucius smiled slightly, and began checking Eliwood's other wounds. He prodded gently at the fast fading mark where the arrow in his shoulder had been, and nodded in satisfaction.
"He'll be just fine as soon as he wakes up." Lucius assured Hector when he saw the worried expression on his face. "But he might not wake up for a while, his wounds were unattended for a while."
"Thank you Lucius."
Lucius nodded, and bowed before trotting out, muttering softly about getting the blood out of his robes. Hector stood looking curiously at Eliwood, and wondered what he had been doing so far away from camp so early in the morning with out his sword. Hector picked up the dagger that had dropped out of Eliwood's tunic, and examined it. At first he thought it was the dagger Eliwood kept in his boot for emergencies, but it wasn't. It didn't have Pheare's symbol on it, and it was too short. To confirm that it wasn't the dagger Eliwood kept in his boot Hector reached his hand in Eliwood's right boot, and pulled the dagger out of it. He frowned, and examined the two. With a shrug Hector stuck Eliwood's dagger back in it's respective boot, and lay the other on Eliwood's tunic.
Hector grabbed a blanket from one bed, and tossed it over Eliwood. He stopped, and looked more closely at Eliwood's arms. He frowned at the scars that he was sure hadn't been there before. Hector thought back, making sure. The last time he hadn't been too busy to notice something like that would have been when they were back in Cealin. They had stopped near a large pond, and since it was hot, they'd gone swimming. He was sure he would have noticed the scars then if they'd been there. His frown deepened when he saw how close some of the scars were to Eliwood's wrists, and the inside of his elbows. Hector finished laying the blanket over Eliwood, and sat down on one of the beds. He had some questions for Eliwood when he woke up, and he had a feeling he wasn't going to like all the answers he was going to get.
A/N:-.- Stone me, Kill me if you want.... I write slowly....Thanks for the reviews! It's graet to hear people like the story. We got out of Eliwood's POV, but we'll be back in at during the next chapter. See you, R&R.