"What-?"
But Ahro didn't answer her unfinished question. He looked beaten, his former flawless face a mess. He coughed.
She looked at Writath.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.
"You wanted to see who released you from your debt and I simply showed him to you. Nothing more, dear girl." He said in a triumphant tone of voice.
"You did that?" Calandra asked Ahro, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "But how...why? I thought you'd-"
She bit her lip. Ahro looked up at her only for a fleeting second with his fearfull eyes. He mouthed something to her but she couldn't understand what.
She wondered why he wasn't standing up, why he didn't move to her side.
"This boy kindly came to me with the money you owed in three-fold. Too bad that a little wine loosened his tongue as much as it did."
She didn't understand. Writath was speaking in riddles and Ahro kept staring at his hands from his place on the ground.
She stepped forward, wanting to pull him up, but the soldier coughed warningly. Her hand stopped in mid-air.
"It is a pity..." Writath said suddenly with a lazy voice. "It's a pity that you have such back luck choosing friends. Loyalty is never their strong point, is it. That Finnean fellow was only too pleased to tell me where you would be, and right he was too. I must admit I was surprised to see you had come to Marek. I had though Finnean would lie.I guess it was a good decision of mine to let him go unharmed..."
Calandra spat on the ground. "Don't mention his name to me. He's no longer my friend. The traitorous-"
"Ay, traitor would be the right word...for all your friends."
She moved her arm slightly and unnoticable to let her dagger slide down into her hand. She had a feeling of unease and usually this feeling was right.
"This young lad here told us of your daring plan to pay me back. Brave, I must admit. Not many young ladies would try to pull off such an endavour. He was very...eager to tell me how relieved he was that you didn't have to rob the diamond transport'"
She looked at Ahro, trying to make him look at her. He still had so much to learn. You never told anyone what you were planning. Never. Only those you trust, and even be wary of them.
Another one of Tehk's lessons echoed through her mind.
Writath laughed. "Ah yes... rob the diamond transport. He was very relieved you wouldn't have to go though with that. But I take it you didn't know he had gone to pay me, did you. I think you had no idea and that you carried out your plan anyway."
She shook her head slowly, trying to figure out where he was going with all of this, while gritting her teeth.
"Any determined young thief would continue with their plan. So-"
"No!" she said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. "I would have, but the transport never passed by. I would have gone through with it otherwise, yes. But it didn't come. It didn't come."
"You're trying to convince me that all your careful planning was for nothing? I have seen you at work with that Finnean. I find it really hard to believe that you would do something so foolish. Come, come now. I know you took your share from that caravan. You probably hid it somewhere in this forest."
"I am telling you the truth, it did not come!" She said more forcefully.
Writath picked his nails. "...Pity..."
Calandra tensed up. She could feel the atmosphere turn more hostile.
"I wanted to give you another chance to tell me the truth..."
"I did tell you the truth!" she said again harshly.
"I find deceit a grave sin, myself. And I came here to give you the opportunity to make up for the last stunt you pulled on me. But I feel you're still lying to me and that just won't do. The boy already told me one story and so far it has turned out to be true, all of it. Where you were and what you were planning. But now you say he lies when he says that you went through with your plan?"
She didn't know what to say.
"We all know that you are the kind of person who carries on till the end, someone who'll do everything to obtain her goal. And you must admit yourself that, coming from a thief, the words 'I tell the truth' are a bit more hard to believe than when a boy like he says those words." Writath continued.
Calandra bit her lip. This man would never believe her. She understood his reason all too well. After all, who would trust a thief? Nothing she could say could make him believe her truth.
"So." Writath said, more matter-of-factly. "Just give me the diamonds you stole and I'll leave you be."
Calandra stepped back. "I told you before. I do not have any. I swear-"
"It has come to swearing? Dear me, a sign of desperation, I'm sure. And is desperation not also a sign of unease? Your honesty is far from credible and my patience is running out. You boy, up." He commanded.
Ahro stood up dutifully, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Ahro..." she said weakly.
Why was he listening to Writath? Had they beaten him so bad? Had they broken him in one night? He had been so strong willed before, stubbornly following her against her will. But now...
"Miss Robin. I know you're lying to me and I do not thank you for it. Now either you give me the treasure or the boy dies."
Suddenly Calandra felt like the world was moving in slow-motion.
"Did you hear me?"
She could hear Writath's voice sounding vaguely distant.
She looked from him to Ahro who was still averting his eyes. It was a breaking sight, seeing him robbed from his own will like a ragdoll.
"I'm telling the truth...please...I beg you to believe me..." She tried to say.
But her mouth would not open and no sound came from her throat. To her horror she found she couldn't pull her eyes away from this sight either.
"No? Pity..."
Suddenly Ahro look up, his eyes shining vibrantly. He looked at her, begging her to say something, anything.
But before anything could get through to her she found herself screaming as Ahro's body went rigid. His head tilted backwards and his mouth opened to let out a gasp.
A little silver tip, sharp and glinting in the sunlight, protruded from his chest. She screamed again, but this time it was a scream of rage. Her hand shot forward, letting the dagger she had been holding fly towards Writath.
She reached for her sword and stormed forward. The blade whirled in her hands as it went through the man before her. Writath sank to his knees with a look of faint surprise. His mouth opened and let out a wonderous 'oh' as her sword sliced his skin below his already pierced heart.
She did not take the effort of looking at him. She did not hear his chortling breath as he fell to the ground, face down in the dusty sand. All she felt was rage.
The soldier stared at his master's corpse and looked at her with anger. He raised his shortbow and aimed at her, but before his fingers could release the arrow she had already pounced on him.
Her sword danced across his body until he had fallen to the ground. She was unable to stop herself and only managed to cast herself away from him when she was certain he was dead. But instead of praying for the fallen ones she fell to her knees, broken and cold.
She threw down her sword and cried. Never before had she really noticed the intricant, smell of blood that now so insistanly surrounded her. Never had she known such anger and rage during a fight and it scared her that she had experienced it now.
But what scared her more were her tears. She had been used to death, but it had always belonged to someone she didn't care for. And now...
She wiped away her tears and crawled over to Ahro's lifeless body. Another wave of tears filled her eyes. She turned him around and pulled the arrow from his back, taking a healing potion from her pocket and forcing it into his mouth eventhough she knew it was too late.
No magic could heal him.
She whispered a prayer for him and closed his eyes that were still opened with a look of surprise. Her tears fell down to meet his face below. When her whispers had died down, she picked him up into her arms. She would not leave him here for birds to pick clean.
He had been...too precious for a fate like that.
She looked at his face and closed her eyes. She pressed him to her chest, feeling how the warmth was leaving him. Silently she carried him to Silta and placed him on the horse's back.
He couldn't sit up in the saddle so his limp body leaned against Silta's neck, his face hidden in the horse's dark manes.
She took the leather leads in her hands and pulled Silta away from the dead corpses on the ground. She did not care for them and she did not pray for them either. A grim expression was fixed on her face. She found herself hoping that fiends or other animals in the woods would find the dead bodies and pick them clean.
Her feet moved on, always continuing. Her eyes remained on the ground. She tried to block out the smell of decay, but she couldn't and it made her nauseous.
She banned all emotions from her face, feeling cold inside. It was strange to feel like this. She knew she should be crying still, she knew that she was supposed to be unable to stop the tearflow.
But her eyes staid dry, no matter how much pain she felt inside. She stopped walking when the ground under her feet became more hardened. As she looked up, she saw she had reached the main road. In the distance she could see towers. Small, but not too far away.
She bit her lip and looked down the other end of the road. It was a long way to Marek and she didn't really want to return to that place now. She allowed her feet to move on and led Silta slowly towards the monastary.
In her mind she could see it happen over and over again. She shook her head and closed her eyes, not wanting to see it again. Not wating to feel that rage again.
She forced the memory from her mind and felt like a zombie as she walked on still.
A voice made her look up slowly. "Are you alright, my daughter?"
She looked at the face of a man, elderly and wearing a grey cowl. The man looked worried and backed away a step when her head rose to show him a face as cold as ice.
Her eyes frightened him, they were empty...glassy.
Not the slightest hint of emotion hid in their depths. She looked at him silenly as if she did not see him or his fellow travel companions.
The man looked at her horse with a mixture of hesitation and curiosity. He pulled her away carefully and she followed him dutifully, as if she had no will of her own.
Two of the other men moved to Silta and tried to wake the man on his back. Their gasp made the first man look up.
"He's dead, Father!" one of them shouted. "There's nothing we can do."
Suddenly Calandra began to shake. She was shaking so forcefully that she nearly knocked down the man who was supporting her.
"Father Elyon, we must do something. She is in shock!"
"Let us take them to the monastary." He conceded.
The monks hesitated. "...The man too?"
"Yes, yes! Of course...would you leave him behind for the fiends, unburried and without proper prayers? Shame on you all."
"Sorry Father...forgive us."
"Pardon us, Father."
Father Elyon nodded silently. He wondered what had happened to these people. A hand on his shoulder made him look up.
"...What unheavenly misfortune befell these people, Elyon..."
"I don't know, Jolyon...but all we can do now is pay the man respect according to our custom and give a bed and food to the girl."
"I shall ask Lord Elgare for advice. He'll know what to do."
Father Elyon nodded and followed Father Jolyon in their slow tread towards the monastery. He wondered what could have happened that the young woman had brought a corpse with her. He had seen her weaponry and he could guess what kind of profession she practiced.
But hunters and their sort burried their comrades themselves, if they burried them at all. He decided to talk to her as soon as she had been taken care of.
"And her friend too..." he muttered sadly.
I am very sorry for the delay in my posting, but I had an important mid-term to prepare for. It took me ages to get all that stuff in my head but now I've got some time to spare so I chose to update this already late story.
Well, we're nearing the end of Calandra's adventure. After this there will be only one more chapter. I feel so sorry for the girls, but hey! Life sucks and shit happens twice a day, doesn't it?
Grayangle: I hope you liked this chapter! Well, to be honest about that soldier, it was one of Writath's men, but he had a soldiers uniform on because Writath has his own personal guard as well. I just forgot to mention something like that. I hope you don't hate me for killing Ahro, as you called him a good addition to the story, but it had to happen for Calandra's personal growth. Remember that it is her life this story is about.
I hope to hear from you what you thought of this chapter and that you will check out the last chapter to come as well!
Well, I'm off to continue writing one of my Final Fantasy VIII stories now. I've been working on it for ages, but now that I'm reaching the ending it gets harder and harder to get it to work! Oh well, thank god I haven't typed any of it yet. If I think of a dramatic change right now I can still change it in the writing itself. Otherwise I'd have to delete the whole lot and type it all over again. Can't say that's an appealing thought ;)
See you at the next chapter Grayangle!
Love, Raven55