Chapter Seventeen
Cynn had never been one for apologies. Her mantra had always been one of "if you get in my way, that's your own damn fault". Thus, she was quite out of practice when it came to terms of saying she was sorry.
Nonetheless, this time it was required. She really didn't want to know what happens to people left for the Charr to find… especially if they turned out remotely like the anti-social black clothed illusionist-warrior grumbling sourly near the lead of the party.
First, she wanted to seek out Coran, deathly afraid that they had really gotten off on the wrong foot. It was part stalling the person she really felt she owed an apology, and part practical. Cynn was somewhat worried she and Coran had started off on the wrong foot, and having the King as an enemy is never a good idea, be you peasant or noble.
She approached Prince Coran, only to notice that the grumbling from his apparently appointed chief bodyguard was directed towards him.
"You should have told me when it happened, Coran." Yuu growled. "I would have gutted Miss Priss from stomach to sternum."
Cynn's right hand instinctively drifted over her chest.
"While I truly doubt that, Yuu… that fear is precisely why I didn't tell you right away. I know your father assigned you to protect me, but I suspect he meant more from threats of bodily harm."
"I have seen a man break as easily mentally as physically." The assassin replied, unrepentant.
"Cynn was merely trying to be helpful, in a mischievously helpful way consistent with the sibling dynamic that I sensed between her and my bondmate. In the end, it was relatively harmless, even though Mhenlo was quite upset by the display. He is fond of Cynn, I've noticed."
"Poor fool…" Yuu snorted.
"Well, the heart is blind."
"While that may be, I can assure you I feel no such affection. If that little spell caster that has been shadowing us for the last three minutes comes any closer, I might just explore her innards with a sharp rock."
Okay… perhaps Cynn could apologize to Coran later…
Knowing that Mhenlo probably wasn't in much of a mood to listen to anything she had to say for a while, Cynn then turned her attention to Devona, who was looking as dour as the elementalist had ever seen her. It was likely that there too, any apology would fall on deaf ears.
But at least with Devona, death would be relatively quick, rather than being guilted to a pathetic demise.
"Umm… Devona…?"
The warrior whirled about with self-indignant fury. "So, did your come-ons do the trick, 'my queen'?" Devona said the last two words with a sarcastic sneer, making little effort to hide her displeasure. The warrior really must have been upset.
Cynn gulped as her lips tried to work around the somewhat foreign words she felt she had to say. "Devona… I'm… sorry."
The oddity was not missed by Devona. Cynn never apologized… at least, not directly. "Who are you, and what have you done to the real Cynn?"
The elementalist scowled. "I'm being serious here. I really, really was out of line. I shouldn't have come onto your bondmate like that, regardless of my intentions."
"Doesn't concern me anymore." Devona said in an attempt to be dismissive.
"That's a lie. You can't even pretend it isn't." Cynn said with a roll of her eyes. "He's head over heels for you, although I sometimes wonder why, and it was pretty obvious to me you feel the same."
"It's irrelevant. It wouldn't be right for us to marry."
Cynn found it amusing that while she was supposedly the "noble" one of the group, more often that not it was Devona who got hung up on what was "proper" and "appropriate". It was amusing most of the time… but occasionally, it could get real annoying. "Devona, you do know you wouldn't have to wear dresses all the time, right?"
"What… in Grenth's name are you going on about?"
Cynn had to fight back a chuckle. "You don't have to be the prim and elegant lady that Queen Myrissa was. You don't have to curtsey and play cute; if you want to be a fighter who happens to be queen, who's going to tell you no?"
Devona's eyes darkened, and for a moment, Cynn wasn't even sure the warrior's next words were meant for the elementalist. "That's precisely the problem, Cynn."
Cynn's mind initially misinterpreted the statement. "You want to be a pretty little queen?"
Devona growled in frustration. "No, that's not what I… just forget it."
A roaring Charr drew her attention, and at first the warrior started in alarm before spotting the red armband around the beast's right wrist that identified him as Grazz. He gestured broadly, likely so that Coran could see from the distance the party was from him.
And what the Charr outcast had to say wasn't good. "Warbands… coming this way quickly." Coran translated. "Five groups of ten warriors, each led… by a Charr Lord."
Devona paled ever so slightly. She had heard of the great Charr Lords, even if she had never had the opportunity to face one in battle. One would likely be a test, but five accompanied by their own warbands…
Yuu clearly reached the same conclusion. "If they're coming directly towards us, they'll eventually get close enough to see through this blanket illusion. I'm not sure how skilled your friends are, Coran, but I doubt we'd have much chance against those numbers."
"You have no idea what we're capable of when not running for our lives." Cynn huffed.
"It's not us we should worry about anyway, but the groups behind us." Devona corrected. "I doubt they even have our level of skill."
"I know this might be a shock for you to hear me say, my friends… but I am out of ideas." Coran muttered with the reluctance of a man used to having all the answers.
Devona did have an idea, but she wasn't terribly fond of it… although it would likely wind up solving the marriage issue. "I'll go and intercept them. I'll give you all enough time to get to the wall."
Not surprisingly, Coran was quick with his objection. "That's a suicide mission, and you know it as well as the rest of us. I will not have it!"
"There isn't any time to argue." Devona snapped back, "Now get to the wall!" She ignored any further protests with her quick sprint towards Grazz, who she burst past so quickly that he wouldn't have been able to stop her even if ordered.
Grazz had not been exaggerating his report either, as by the time she reached the top of a rise not even 200 yards from the party position, she literally ran into the lead scout of the first Charr warband, tumbling back down the other side in a struggling clump before hitting the bottom, leaving one dead Charr with a broken neck, and one mildly miffed warrior drawing her hammer from off her back.
"You wouldn't happen to be looking for a fight, would you?" Devona snarled to the rest of the band that had since caught up. "If so, I'm more than willing to accommodate."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened next. Three Charr front line warriors, two axe wielders and a swordsman surged forward, but those concerned Devona little. One of the axe monsters crumpled unceremonious from one well placed blow to it chest, the satisfying crack of ribs telling Devona it wouldn't be doing much else in the near or far future.
The second axe wielder took the half of her hammer in the temple, its skull splitting from the blow, then finished off with another blow to the top of its cranium. And even with those two distractions, Devona was able to parry aside two attacks from the swordsman before knocking it down, and killing it with one devastating blow to its neck.
She was then peppered by arrows from the line of Stalker situated in front of the Charr Lord, normally they wouldn't have even been a pithy concern, but with her armor left behind in the Hylan Colony, she found it prudent to have to dodge the barrage of projectiles. Nontheless, they proved to be a minor problem at best.
The Charr Lord, on the other hand… classified as a very big problem. She had just swung herself about in a wide arching circular blow that lifted three of the Stalkers off their feet, and possibly even killing one, when a searing, impossibly large fireball struck her in the center of the chest, sending her tumbling limply and forcing her to lose grip of her hammer.
Devona staggered to her feet, pulling her sword free, but before she could even drop into an attacking stance, another fireball struck her, sending stars through her eyes and painful burns across her face. She again struck the ground, this time face down, the gritty earth gouging painfully into her seared cheeks.
This time, the warrior's rise was much slower and labored, at least until a heavy Charr foot slammed her head back down onto the barren dirt, causing her to scream as it ground her face into the earth, cackling in delight.
When the foot was removed… Devona did not get up. The warrior had hoped to have at least have killed off one warband. Now she wasn't even sure if she had bought enough time for even Coran's party to reach the Wall.
A rough, furred hand wound into the warrior's hair, and yanked to her feet, as two arms slid under her shoulders, and two more along the back of her knees, lifting her parallel to the ground. Her legs were forced open, and Devona weakly protested, wondering what was happening… until she saw the red hot, smoldering tip of a thick wooden staff slowly moving towards her hips…
She squirmed, but each movement rifled burning agony through her body, limiting the effectiveness of her struggles. Torture then a horrific death… Devona's increasingly pain mudded mind understood that was the Charr way… and that it would all be over soon…