3rd Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
Drachensgrab Hills, The Pomarj
With a sudden, final effort the warrior squeezed the rest of the way through the open space. Argo slammed the door shut behind him as Nesco held her sword in a threatening posture, still hoping to somehow stop this fight before it started. The man flattened up against the wall just to the right of the doorway. His sword was also held ready for battle, but his left arm was stretched out alongside the wall so that his shield was turned away from his opponents and completely unready for use.
Odd, thought Nesco, frowning. She didn't like the man's question, or the way he was still looking at her.
Talass now came up to stand at Argo's right, the three of them forming an arc surrounding the intruder.
Behind them, Zantac slowly moved towards one of the torch sconces.
Bigfellow shook his head grimly. "You shouldn't have come here."
The fighter turned to eye him, his smile fading away to match the ranger's soberness.
"Funny," he said. "I was about to say the same thing to you."
Argo's voice resumed at least some of its usual carefree nature as he slowly drew Harve from his sheath. "So, which one are you? Captain Gorbin Stalworth or Lieutenant Kairn?"
The warrior's eyes darted to his desk.
"Reading my private papers?" he queried in a faux tone of betrayed trust. "How rude," he concluded, his grin returning even as his eyes took in Harve's red glow.
Argo copied his smile. "Where are my manners?" he quipped. "I forget the protocol when dealing with slavers and mass murderers. Must be why I'm never invited to those palace functions."
"Let's dispense with the chaff," Talass cut in, glaring at the officer. "Surrender Markessa up to us, and we'll let you live. You must know we've killed nearly everyone else by now. If you have any more brains than your hobgoblin troops, you'll see it's the smart thing to do."
"Curious," the man responded, his brown eyes briefly alighting on Tojo's unmoving form lying on the desk behind the trio.
His gaze returned to Talass' face. "One would think that people who travel with a samurai would know even the slightest bit about honor."
"You don't know the meaning of the word," snarled Nesco.
"Don't I now?" the warrior responded. "The glare from your self-righteousness outshines either of our swords, I'm afraid. Just because I'm a practical man doesn't mean I know nothing of honor. My loyalty is to Markessa, and so I refuse when you ask me to betray her. At first, I thought you were mercenaries, but since I now know you're not, I ask you- how would you respond if I asked you to betray King Belvor?"
Nesco started momentarily, but then realized the truth after a brief glance down at her shield, with its insignia of the Order of The Hart. She kept her gaze level with the man but said nothing.
He continued. "We're no concern at all to Furyondy, yet her paladin king sends still more forces down here to destroy us. You can call that noble if you like." The warrior's face grew stern again. "I call it inserting your face where you have no business being!"
Talass shook her head. "I'm not even going to pretend that justice means anything to you. Let's stick to plain truths then. Markessa is an unworthy master. If you surrender her up to us, the others here will follow your lead, and you need fear no retribution."
The fighter's eyebrows shot skywards.
"I was wondering how much you really knew," he said softly. "Now I know. Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Then enlighten us," Nesco replied, trying hard to keep the growl out of her voice.
"Forgive me if I think that giving information to the enemy is a poor idea," the man responded. He indicated Elrohir and Tojo again with a flicker of his eyes. "You people are so afraid of death, you drag the corpses of your fallen ones around with you." He shook his head pityingly at them. "Do you have a High Priest hiding nearby in the hills, or do you honestly think to escape from here to civilization carrying them?" His mouth grew taut. "Sellswords at least would have been more realistic-minded."
He thinks Tojo is dead, thought Talass. Can't blame him. He certainly looks it. Well, I for one won't say anything. The cleric looked at her companions and was relieved to see the same idea flash through their faces.
"So, who was your late friend?" asked the fighter. "An old enemy of Icar's? Lord knows he had a few." The man's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
Nesco would still swear she could see the sun's reflection in the blade.
"First you kill Icar, and then your wizard friend sees fit to blow himself to pieces just to take Lieutenant Kairn with him."
Captain Stalworth, I presume then, thought Argo.
The officer was starting to tremble with anger as he continued. "You may not care when I tell you you've killed some fine warriors this day."
The others tensed up as he raised his sword in a preparatory attack motion. That cold, hard smile was back.
"But I'm just a soldier. I leave the negotiations to others. My job is to defend this stockade."
And he bought the shield around.
Nesco stared.
Her jaw dropped open. Just enough of her mind kept tabs on the position of Stalworth's sword, so that she wasn't attacked unawares.
But that shield.
Talass couldn't quite see the device from her angle, but Argo could. The big ranger's eyes widened momentarily.
Oh, no, he thought. His gaze darted to his fellow ranger on his left.
Nesco knew.
The antlers on the azure field were the same, but that was only the beginning.
There were numerous new scratches, gouges and dents adorning that metal circle, but she knew.
She just knew.
"Miles," she whispered.
The ranger looked up. The captain's eyes were already waiting for her.
"Sir Miles Cynewine," she said, her voice slowly climbing in register. "Where did you get my brother's shield?"
Gorbin said nothing, but his smile grew wider, and colder, and suddenly became the one thing she hated more than anything else in the entire universe.
"Where did you get his shield?" Nesco screamed as she attacked.
Stalworth was ready. He sidestepped one more step to the right, pivoting slightly to his right while bringing the shield up, fast and forward.
Nesco was caught off-kilter. The sight, sound and feel of her sword striking her brother's shield somehow seemed like an obscenity to the ranger. That moment of hesitation allowed Stalworth to push her back a step. The captain's sword came around, but was forced to change course in mid-arc to intercept the incoming Harve. Stalworth pushed back a moment before Argo did, sending the big ranger back a step as well. Talass' downward hammer strike fell short, barely glancing off Gorbin's left shoulder.
Cynewine recovered, her rage flooding back with another scream as she swung again.
The warrior ducked under her blow while bringing his weapon back into position.
The smile was still frozen on Stalworth's face.
The captain shook his head at Nesco. He didn't even avert his gaze from her as his shield stopped Argo and Talass' attacks again. "Seems like they're letting anyone into the Azure Order these days," he said as he and Nesco feinted simultaneously at each other. "Apparently, all you need is a pretty face and a sibling to grease the wheels."
There was a part of Nesco that was shouting at her to take notice of what was going on, but it was a small voice swallowed up in another wordless scream of rage.
Her blow was wild and unfocused. Stalworth caught it on his sword.
"Driven by passion, Lady Cynewine? That's a mistake versus any opponent."
Then the smile was gone.
"Versus Sundancer, it's fatal."
And somehow his sword had already gone down, swung up in a curved arc and had leveled out, a horizontal swing coming right at Nesco. There was no time to dodge. Her shield wasn't in position, but her sword was. Nesco brought it up in plenty of time to parry.
And Sundancer turned her blade to glass.
Hundreds of small shards, all reflecting an already reflected sunlight scattered into a glittering cloud, many of them spraying in Nesco's face. She had a brief glimpse of perhaps a foot-long cracked glass shard protruding from her weapon's hilt.
All that was left of it.
Nesco heard Harve shout out something, and then Argo. She couldn't register either shout.
The impact had altered Sundancer's trajectory, but it was now coming around again, low and to Nesco's left. The ranger felt the hot impact of steel burning into the chain links of her armor. The blow was powerful enough to cause her to gasp and stagger back.
Now she heard Talass screaming. It was hurting Nesco's concentration, and Cynewine wondered how Stalworth could have struck the priestess so quickly after hitting herself. If he hadn't it certainly wasn't helping their cause for Talass to be distracting them all with such piercing cries. She was enough of a battle veteran to know better.
Nesco was about to open her mouth to rebuke Talass when she realized it was already open.
She was the one who was screaming, and the ranger realized why as she saw her life's blood, more than she had yet shed today, splash out of her left side and stain the wooden floor.
Lady Cynewine went down. The small of her back struck one of the chairs by the desk and sent it skittering across the floor. Before this new pain could really make a difference, the back of Nesco's helm slammed into the edge of the table.
The room tilted, and then went black.
Talass really did want to scream now, but she didn't. There wasn't time.
Stalworth had turned to the left, trying to keep his remaining two combatants from flanking him. His constant strikes were keeping them on the defensive.
Gorbin's advantage was apparent. Neither Argo nor Talass carried a shield, so parries made up a significant portion of their defensive maneuvers. This was now a very risky business indeed. There'd been a few already, and neither weapon had yet shattered, so clearly there was some kind of limitation on Sundancer's magic, although they had no idea what it might be.
Once per day, I hope, thought Argo as he came in on Gorbin's left, a stab aimed at the captain's shield arm.
Sundancer came up fast, and the two swords rang out together.
And Harve screamed.
That sound alone was enough to pull Bigfellow back. Even Stalworth paused.
Talass shot a quick glance backwards.
Why won't anyone ever let me die in peace?
The thought evaporated, pushed from Nesco's brain by a fresh pain from her left side.
The ranger opened her eyes. All she could see was a brown, fuzzy blur.
She couldn't really move, so Nesco figured she might as well wait and see if the blur resolved itself into something recognizable.
It did. It turned out to be Zantac's hair. The wizard's head was turned to the side, his attention concentrated on putting more bandages on Nesco's wound. She could see the mage had been forced to tear away a section of the chain links to get to it easier. It didn't really matter, she thought. Nesco's armor was in just about the same shape as its wearer.
Finished.
"Don't move, Nesco. Let me see what else I can find to help there." Zantac gave her left hand a quick squeeze before heading back off to the stack of boxes, which they had moved to the far cot.
Nesco watched him for a moment, and then looked down. Her right hand still clutched the useless remains of her sword. The ranger tossed it aside.
Cynewine looked up and to her left. Argo and Talass continued to battle Captain Stalworth.
Something abruptly brushed and then slid off the top of her helm.
Nesco started, and then realized it was Tojo's right arm. Her impact with the table had apparently disturbed the samurai. His head was slowly lolling from side to side. She couldn't tell if he was going to regain consciousness or not.
Tojo's lips parted, but only a small dribble of blood came out.
Nesco stared at him for a moment. Her lower lip trembled.
And then she reached out and took his bloody, filthy hand in her bloody, filthy hand.
Slowly, far too slowly, she managed to get to her knees. The pain was so intense all she could concentrate on was not blacking out. Nesco could feel the blood everywhere. On her side, and on the back of her head against the inside of her helm, dribbling down through the ranger's hair and onto the back of her neck.
Nesco looked at Tojo. Talass had carefully replaced the samurai's swords back into their sheaths. Tojo's face showed his pain. He seemed to be fighting, but whether it was a struggle to wake up or to remain in painless oblivion, she didn't know.
She leaned over him as far as she could.
"Tojo," she whispered.
She couldn't believe what she was about to ask. Not after everything that had happened.
"Tojo," she repeated. "Please. I can't- I can't fight anymore. I don't even have a sword. We," she tightened her grip on his hand, "I need you to wake up. We need your sword, Tojo. I know you can beat him, Tojo, and I'm sorry for asking you like this. It seems like all you ever do is throw your life away for us, and all we ever do is ask you to do it one more time."
His eyes might have flickered, but Nesco just couldn't see well enough anymore to be sure.
"Please, Tojo- please wake up. Just one more time- we need your sword."
The captain dodged Talass' warhammer again. Argo couldn't help but wince as Talass, focused on Sundancer, didn't see Stalworth's shield until it smashed right into her face. The priestess staggered back, what was left of her nose once again spurting blood.
"Retreat! Ranged weapons, Bigfellow- that's the way to go! Ready that sling, draw that bow!"
Argo managed his pained smile even while dodging out of the way of Gorbin's latest attack. "What's the matter, Harve?" the ranger asked as he counterattacked with his glowing sword. "Aren't you ready to die heroically?"
"Let's not and say I did, okay?"
"I can't believe Dak actually came back for you," Argo muttered as he stepped forward, thrusting Harve through a split-second gap in Stalworth's defenses. The captain was forced to step back, twist to the left and parry with his own blade to avoid being impaled, but he managed to do so, nonetheless.
Gorbin and Argo came forward at the same angle at the same time. Their swords crossed again and slid up to lock at the hilts, pulling both fighters' arms upwards.
"Ow!" shrieked Harve. "I'm not with him!" the sword squealed to Stalworth.
The captain's cold smile returned as he pressed forward against Argo. "Your sword has more sense than you do, Bigfellow," he snarled.
Argo nodded conspiratorially. "I hear that a lot."
Gorbin was just a second too late responding as Bigfellow's mailed fist smashed into his right cheek. Even as his face was rocked backwards, Stalworth managed to force both swords down, but Argo brought his right foot up just a little higher than the captain would have thought possible for a fighter wearing plate mail and slammed his boot into Gorbin's groin.
Gasping for breath, Stalworth stepped back.
Talass was still doubled over in agony, trying to get past the pain.
Stalworth now continued to turn to the left, and now launched a furious barrage of blows, aimed more to put Bigfellow on the defensive than any serious attempt at injury. Gorbin used the seconds of time gained to start forcing Argo backwards towards the door.
And Bigfellow could hear a noise from the other side.
Hobgoblins. He's got them on the other side, thought the ranger suddenly. They'll stab right through the door if I back up into it. He's had this planned from the start.
Talass tried to turn her moans of agony into battle cries, but she was little more successful at it than Zantac had been earlier. Even as the priestess headed back into the battle, she thought she heard the wizard's voice coming from her left.
"Er- Nesco? Do you think that's wise?"
Talass had no idea what Zantac was referring to, but Gorbin was currently blocking her line of sight to the table. The cleric rushed at Stalworth. The captain took her hammer strike on his shield, but then suddenly cried out in pain as at last, Harve found its mark.
Argo jerked his sword out of Gorbin's right leg.
"You'll pay for that!" Stalworth shrieked at Argo-
And then swung at Talass.
Argo tried to warn Talass of the feint, but it was too late. The cleric parried, but a shattering sound filled the air as her warhammer exploded into a pile of glittery debris. Gorbin, accustomed to attacking into the middle of Sundancer's display, stabbed low and the priestess cried out and staggered back again, her hands clutched to her stomach.
Bigfellow didn't know how bad it was. For the first time since the battle began, Argo roared with anger and began furiously attacking.
Not Stalworth, but his sword.
The captain's eyes went wide as he began parrying with Sundancer, faster and faster. He didn't know what the big ranger was doing, but he knew the fool would lose in the end. All he was doing was pushing Gorbin back a little, towards the middle of the room. Stalworth knew Argo would exhaust himself in just a few seconds, and then it would be all over.
It happened. Bigfellow overextended himself on a swing. Stalworth pushed it aside with his shield, and Sundancer began its move. His mark was there. It was-
Captain Gorbin suddenly jerked upright. His lips forced themselves open, and a cry of absolute, utter agony escaped his lips as his eyes saw the blade of a katana erupt from the center of his chest.
All over, he thought sadly.
Stalworth could see Argo's smile. He could hear the hot breath on his left cheek. He couldn't believe he'd made such a stupid error. He could have sworn the samurai was dead.
Slowly, he turned his head- and looked deeply into the hazel eyes of someone who was not Yanigasawa Tojo.
"This is what we have here," gritted Nesco Cynewine.
Stalworth opened his mouth, but if he meant to reply, no one ever heard it. Nesco lowered her arms as the officer slid off the samurai sword and collapsed to the ground.
He did not move again.
Nesco stared at the captain's body as her hands opened of their own accord, and Tojo's katana dropped on top of his corpse.
She looked up. A long way off, it seemed, Argo was going over to Talass. Suddenly, Zantac was there by her, his hands guiding her by the elbows back towards the table.
"I think you'd better sit down, Nesco."
That seems like a pretty good idea, was Cynewine's last thought before consciousness left her like a ballista bolt.
Nesco was getting more and more surprised every time she was able to open her eyes.
Still not dead?
The thought rang through her brain. Considering the amount of pain she was in, the ranger was unsure whether to consider that a blessing or a curse.
Lady Cynewine was lying on the floor, about ten feet east of the table. She waited patiently as the odd blobs in front of her slowly coalesced into things she could recognize. Like the faces of people kneeling over her.
Faces like... Nesco frowned.
Tojo's?
The samurai's smile was like a thousand healing spells, if perhaps with not such long-lasting effects. She smiled weakly back at him and tried extra-hard to avoid any exclamations of pain as he slowly helped her into a sitting position. The room began to spin again, and Nesco put her head between her knees, signaling the others with a hand gesture to wait.
They did, and after a time Cynewine slowly raised her head. When she did, she saw Argo practically forcing Tojo to lie down on one of the cots. Zantac was fussing over Talass, who sat in one of the chairs. Nesco could see the cleric's abdomen swathed in bandages, her chainmail in the same tatters now as her own. Talass gave her own weak smile and nod at Nesco.
"Are you all right?" the cleric asked.
Lady Cynewine nodded. "Considering the situation, I guess." The ranger looked soberly at the priestess. Talass' nose looked like a smashed and bloodied egg yolk.
"You look terrible," Nesco said wryly.
Talass gingerly touched her face and nodded again. "That's all right," she said wistfully. "There's nothing in here I wanted to smell, anyway."
Laughing would have hurt her side too much, so Nesco settled for a silent chuckle. The ranger looked around.
Stalworth's body had been dragged across the damaged trap door. The table had been upended and jammed against the western door.
Argo, currently pulling the other cot next to Tojo's, explained to Lady Cynewine about the hobbies that had been lurking behind it. "They fled when Stalworth fell," he explained, his voice quiet, "but they'll be back. It's only a matter of time. In the meantime, you need to lay down."
Nesco was hurting so bad she didn't even put up a false pretense, but just eased herself slowly onto the cot. The ranger tried to focus on the bare ceiling above.
She frowned. "Argo," she said, craning her head to find her fellow ranger. "There's a trap door up there."
Bigfellow nodded and pointed. "Yes, but it's bolted from this side."
"Oh." Nesco leaned back again and closed her eyes.
Things seemed unnaturally quiet. She could hear an occasional fragment of conversation around her, but they were muffled and indistinct. Cynewine sighed and opened her eyes again. Tojo, on her right. appeared to be asleep again, his hands clasped in front of his chest. Nesco noticed that his katana was once again in its scabbard.
He has to know, Nesco thought. He has to know that we've at least handled his swords, if not used them. What will he think?
Wincing, she rolled over onto her left side. Argo was trying to reinforce the table blockade with one of the chairs. Talass sat in the other chair, her eyes closed and her lips moving in silent prayer. Zantac stood about a foot from the window, staring forlornly outside, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
No one was talking anymore.
"We put up one hell of a fight, didn't we?"
Argo Bigfellow Junior turned around from his efforts. Efforts that he knew were ultimately futile. The door might hold for a few minutes at best, and then the hobgoblins would come pouring through. He was the only one left of the group who could still fight for more than a few seconds, and he knew he wouldn't last long. The big ranger eyed Nesco Cynewine. She was propped up on one elbow, her sometimes hazel-sometimes green eyes glistening at him.
Argo's smile was uncharacteristically weak.
"Yes, Lady Cynewine, we certainly did."
Talass opened her eyes.
"We're not going to die." she announced to the room at large, standing up and clutching her holy symbol tightly. "We are going to get out of this."
Zantac shook his head, scowling. He did not turn around as he replied.
"Your vision?" A look of anger that only Nesco saw passed over the mage's features momentarily.
"The gods will only go so far, Talass. They'll only go so far."
Now Zantac did turn around.
"Is there anything besides blind faith that tells you we're going to be rescued?"
Talass stared back at Zantac, and her face, her composure began to shake. Trembling, she walked slowly over to where the petrified Elrohir still lay against the wall, like a piece of discarded furniture.
The cleric stared down at her husband as she spoke quietly.
"Because this can't be how it ends. I've always known death was a possibility. I've always known that we might fail. But I always thought we would go out in a blaze of glory, fighting for justice. Fighting for what's right."
Talass looked back at Zantac. "But there's nothing noble about this. We're going to die like caged rats. That's not how the Justice Bringer would have wanted it."
She again turned to what was left of her husband. "I have to believe that the last thing Elrohir sees in his life will not be the face of a medusa. I have to believe, if only once, I will be able to feel Elrohir's living arms around me again, and I will be able to look him in the eye and tell him how much I love him, without our deaths being at hand."
The cleric buried her face in her hands. "This can't be the end. It can't. I never told him. I..."
Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. Zantac dropped his eyes to the floor. Nesco couldn't bear to watch, either.
Talass kept on crying, but she didn't care anymore. She wasn't even going to stop when the hobbies came crashing through the door. She'd just stay here and-
The priestess batted away angrily in reflex the hand that lifted her chin, but she stopped when she opened her eyes to identify the transgressor.
Argo Bigfellow Junior kept his auburn eyes on Talass even as he tossed his helm to the floor. The cleric looked at the ranger's dark blonde hair, matted with sweat and caked with blood.
"I know you love him, Talass," he whispered, "just like I love my Caroline." His voice broke and he looked away, his eyes moist. "She was a fool to marry me. I told her that. She would have been happier with someone else." Argo gulped, his voice cracking. "Still, one last hug would have been nice..."
And then somehow they were together, hugging each other until the end of the world, the tall ranger's tears falling into Talass' blonde hair. Argo breathed in deeply, and he could just make out the scent of crushed flowers that Caroline liked to use when she washed her hair.
Talass could feel the muscles in the arms around her; the combination of strength and gentleness that she had felt the very first time Elrohir had done this.
Nesco and Zantac watched in silence.
Eventually, they both pulled away.
"So," Argo said with an expression both sad and embarrassed, "was I all right as a stand-in, my good lady?"
Talass sniffled, wiped her eyes and lifted her hand to cradle Argo's cheek.
"You were fine, Argo. You were just fine."
Bigfellow gave her one last pained smile, took Talass' hand in his, and kissed it softly before releasing it and wiping his own eyes clear.
When he looked back, Talass was looking at him pointedly.
"Um, yes?" he asked.
The cleric put her hands on her hips. "So how was I?"
Argo stared back at her. Talass could see it. Just a little whisper of a smile.
That bastard.
"How were you what?" Bigfellow asked as innocently as possible.
Talass slowly put her hands around Bigfellow's neck. "How was I as Caroline?" she asked with exaggerated sweetness.
Argo put on a thoughtful look that was beginning to irk Talass as much as that smile did.
"I don't know," the ranger mused, stroking his chin. "It's kind of hard to compare." He suddenly looked over at Lady Cynewine and beckoned her with a crooked finger.
"Oh Nesco, could you come over here for a moment, please?"
And Talass squeezed through their joint laughter.
Nesco managed only a half-smile before suddenly bursting into tears herself.
When she finally managed to stop them, she saw just what she didn't want to see.
Everyone standing by her, the pity in their eyes. They knew exactly why she was crying.
Lady Cynewine got to her feet as quickly as her injuries would allow and stalked over to the window, heedless of any sniper danger. She didn't even look down- only up to the night sky, with its clouds, stars and moons.
And unfulfilled promises. Nesco could remember a little nine year-old Cynewine girl staring up at this very same sky. That girl had heard the promise in the night wind, the breeze that said she would someday find her true love.
She'd never even found a false one.
The voice behind her was little more than a whisper.
"Nesco-san."
She turned around slowly. Tojo was standing behind her, at his standard respectable distance.
The samurai's head was down. He did not look at her.
"You come back for me outside, Nesco-san. Why did you do this?"
Despite herself, a shot of disappointment went through Nesco's frame. She knew this wasn't the question she was hoping Tojo would ask but, as she reminded herself, it was a little too late for that anyway. She took a deep breath.
"You're my friend, Tojo. How can I explain that, so you'd understand?"
Tojo chewed on his lip. With the slowness of a glacier, his head began to rise.
"You- afraid to die?"
Nesco clenched her fists. "Yes, Tojo, I admit it. I am," she said. "I'm not proud of it, and I envy you for it not bothering you, but I am!"
Tojo's head shook as it continued its ascent.
"No. My aporogies, Nesco-san. That not what I mean. I not wish to die but am ready to do so. What I mean is- there are- things- you wish to experience first?"
Lady Cynewine's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know how to answer that.
Tojo's head was now up. Those purple orbs flitted around the room like a butterfly, but at last came to rest just to the right of Nesco's face.
"Yes, Tojo," she whispered. "There are."
The samurai looked troubled. His gaze went down to the floor for a minute, and his hands twisted uncomfortably at his side. Tojo tried to take a deep breath, but the pain of the attempt cut him off, so he took several rapid, shallow ones instead before looking back up at Lady Cynewine.
"I not experience these things either, Nesco-san," he said quietly.
Nesco's heart was suddenly pounding in fear. Tojo seemed a little bit closer than he had just been.
And then Tojo took her bloody, filthy hand in his.
Nesco couldn't help but gasp. She stared for a moment, as if that was someone else's hand down there. When she looked up again, the samurai's eyes were looking directly into her own.
He was smiling.
Nesco's lips had gone completely dry. There was a pounding in her ears that she kept trying to tell herself was from blood loss. She was completely paralyzed. All she could do was gaze back into those violet eyes and wait.
Yanigasawa Tojo slowly let go of Nesco's head, stepped back a pace and bowed deeply.
"Sometimes, I think I onry one, Nesco-san. It gives me peace to know I not arone. I know that most difficurt for you to share. Thank you."
What? Nesco thought. Umm…what?
Tojo turned and walked away.
Huh? Did I miss… but…
Nesco could move now again, but only to tremble violently. She put a hand over her heart and stared as Tojo sat back down upon his cot, closed his eyes and again began breathing regularly.
Unlike a certain ranger.
Nesco's face was as red as it could be under the circumstances. She couldn't believe it. She felt like she'd just been slapped. How could he have just done that? Cynewine's breaths came in great irregular gulps. There was pain, but she welcomed it, anything to try and take her mind off the terrible, horrible thing that Tojo had just done to her.
She caught a quick glimpse of Argo, Talass and Zantac looking at her. All three sent their gaze shooting off elsewhere so fast Nesco was sure she could hear the ricochets.
Anger surged through Nesco even as her eyes welled up with tears again. Why? He had to have seen how she felt! To recognize what they both desired, and then to announce that HE felt better about that? Why had he done that? Why? Why? WHY?
Nesco whirled around, looking for something through blurry eyes. It took a few seconds, but she found Stalworth's body. Sundancer still lay next to it.
Cynewine stopped down and snatched up the sword.
It felt good in her hand. She liked the way the fake sun glinted off of it. She liked the way it felt in her hand.
Sundancer wasn't going to unexpectedly let go of her hand.
"Nesco!"
She paid no attention to Talass' shout as she advanced slowly upon Tojo. Her clarity of purpose dried her tears instantly.
It felt good not to be crying anymore.
Still, the sword hung down as she stepped in front of Tojo.
The samurai opened his eyes. He glanced briefly at the longsword in the ranger's hand, and then up at her face. Without hesitation.
Nesco blinked. There was something on Tojo's face, but she couldn't read it. It wasn't his usual blank mask. It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even confusion. The samurai sat absolutely still, gazing into Nesco's eyes just as she gazed into his.
Just as they had done those long, long, seconds- a lifetime, ago.
And like a glass weapon exploding into a thousand shards, it struck Nesco. Tojo's conversation with Aslan back in the kitchen.
"I did not feel dishonored." The paladin's voice was soft. "I felt honored that a good friend would confide in me so."
Still looking down, Tojo shook his head, a bitter smile forming on his lips. His voice was also soft, but it carried an air of finality.
"You are gaijin. You wirr never understand."
But now, he COULD understand.
"It… gives me peace to know I not arone. I… I know that most difficurt for you to share… thank you."
And now Nesco understood as well. Tojo, a man who was from a land further away in customs and attitudes and upbringing than any amount of dimensions or physical distance could ever hope to achieve, had been able to see things from their side- from her side, and to appreciate it. Perhaps this was a new beginning. More probably, it would never happen again, but it had happened this one time, and with Nesco Cynewine.
And now she knew she wasn't really in love with Yanigasawa Tojo. In fact, she had known that all along. It was just the fact that she was about to die that had raised up that terrible hole in her heart, a hole that she had always assumed she would have the time to fill- someday.
But that wasn't up to Tojo. That was up to her.
Nesco's whole body shook with relief and a shaky smile appeared somehow on her face. She looked at the samurai and could see he knew she had made the connection.
He really does look a lot better when he smiles, thought Nesco. But there is no way in Olympus I'm letting him off THAT easy.
She squatted down in front of him and leaned forward. The samurai's eyes never left hers, but they widened slightly as her face grew nearer to his.
"You don't mind that I shared my dishonor with you, Tojo?" she asked, with a fierce smile.
Tojo cleared his throat, his eyes bouncing around now like they'd been shaken loose from their sockets.
"Uh, no Nesco-san. I, er- I do not."
Just a fraction of an inch closer. She could see him start to sweat.
"That's not like a samurai, is it, Tojo?"
The samurai's regular breathing was long gone. Tojo flung his gaze around, perhaps hoping for some help, but once again three sets of eyes that had been spellbound at this spectacle disappeared. With a great effort, Tojo wrestled his eyes back to at least the general vicinity of that face. That face that was so close he could feel her breath; a soft, warm, invisible mist.
"No, Nesco-san," Tojo admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Not as a samurai should be."
Tojo never thought his eyes could open so wide.
The samurai's hand shot up to his cheek. His fingers could still feel the impression, the wetness, that lingering electric jolt. He gazed in astonishment of Nesco Cynewine, who stood up now, stepped back and then bowed deeply to Tojo, a sly smile on her still-moist lips.
And then she turned around and walked away without a word, calmly retrieving her shield from the floor.
Tojo was aware that his mouth was hanging wide open- a trait he'd always noticed and disliked in gaijin- but nothing short of a hammer and nail was going to close it.
He did manage to hear Argo's voice however, coming from somewhere.
Are you certain you couldn't help me out on this comparison business, Lady Cynewine?"
There was a loud slap and a yelp of pain from the big ranger, but before Tojo could refocus to see what was going on, the western door suddenly shook with a tremendous crash.
Argo was instantly by the door, Harve in hand. Zantac stood next to him, holding a torch.
Tojo and Nesco moved to join them, but suddenly, the eastern door- the one wizard locked by Zantac, began shuddering under an assault as well.
So much for retreat, Nesco thought, as she turned around to guard that entranceway. To her right, Yanigasawa Tojo, katana in his two-handed grip, looked over to her.
"Sword hander werr, Nesco-san?"
The ranger grimaced, moving the blade through a few practice swings. "Don't know yet, Tojo. I guess the proof will come when-"
And then she stopped, stricken.
She could see Captain Gorbin Stalworth's fresh blood still on Tojo's katana. No one had bothered to wipe it off.
The samurai eyed his blade and looked at Nesco. One eyebrow shot skyward, that faint smile returned to his lips.
Then, before Nesco could even think of something to say, he winked at her and returned his attention to the door.
Thank you, Tojo, she mouthed weakly. She watched the door shake in its frame and could vaguely hear the shouts and yells of the hobgoblins on the other side.
This is it. This is really it.
Nesco Cynewine stole one more glance out the window. From here, all she could see was the roof of the fort, the dark silhouette of the guard tower, and several stars in the sky.
I don't know who you are, Nesco thought, but you saved us back in Highport. Whether you are mortal or god, I beseech you. Save these people one more time. Take my life in payment if you wish but spare them. They deserve to live.
The pounding continued. Small splinters of wood began to fly off both doors.
The stars waited.