Chapter 20 - Stubborn

They walked back to the convoy in silence, drenched to the bones under the rain, covered in mud and blood and unbelievably tired, as if iron boulders were strapped to their feet. She couldn't even feel the cold anymore, her limbs completely numb, with her toes and her fingertips frozen over, and every muscle aching like a wet cloth wrung too hard.

But she followed with her mouth shut, refusing to utter a single complaint as Robin led them back to the convoy, David and Leisa right behind her.

Even if the continuous rain was successfully masking the silence amongst them, the invisible tension was louder and stronger than ever, like a corrupted thread strung tight between them.

Their previous heated conversation was still nipping at her nerves like a stich at her side, her mind unable to make sense of the enduring protectiveness they kept demonstrating towards her over and over again. To be on the receiving end of such fierce protection for no apparent reason was driving her mad, even more so when her actions in battle were held against her because apparently it hindered their ability to keep her safe. It was infuriating, and they even had the nerve to scold her like a child for it, for trying to rescue one of their own men instead of letting him be butchered by monsters.

It made no sense to her at all, and she suspected that as long as they all refused to tell her the reason behind their behavior, which was surely linked to the color of her hair, she would have to bide her time and be patient. She would get her answers when they reached Denwood; Robin had promised her that much and she fiercely intended for him to keep his word.

The only problem was that at this rate, she might not even make it out of the Blind Mountains alive, the simple thought of facing a horde of Skinwalkers again tomorrow night sending a dreadful shiver down her spine.

But then again, if Robin and Leisa continued to protect her so fervently, perhaps she might just survive after all…but at what cost?

Before she could let her mind drift back to Dim-Dim and the extent of everything he might have known before tossing her into this wretched place, Robin slowed in his steps in front of her.

They had made it back. Finally.

And nothing could have prepared her for the horrific sight that unfolded before her eyes.

Blood.

Bodies.

A graveyard of corpses, Skinwalkers and humans alike, littering the muddy ground.

She froze beside Robin, her feet refusing to go an inch further as she stared wide-eyed at the horrifying canvas that was painted before them in the unyielding rain.

The aftermath of a massacre, with surviving victims trapped in a wrecked prison of tears and silence.

The sight was heartbreaking.

Soldiers were carrying the dead weights of the bony creatures and humping them in piles away from the trek line while others gently moved the bodies of the fallen soldiers and volunteers, laying them on the ground side by side in a row. Some of the dead had been violently mauled and were still bleeding, their flesh torn and their limbs either broken or ripped off.

Men, women and children were silently crying, whispering farewells to the lifeless corpses of the loved ones they had to say goodbye to, while devastated soldiers walked amongst their weeping souls to light torches and set the bodies on fire, the flames shining harshly in the grim darkness of the night despite the choking rain.

Battered and bruised, Maeve felt tears stinging her eyes as she watched the tragic scenery, unable to look away as many weeping farewells and short prayers to the dead echoed in the night. "Until we meet again…"

Robin stood beside her wordlessly, staring at the extent of the tragedy like a broken shield, and she had no words of comfort to offer him. The only thing she could do was hold his poignant gaze when he looked her way, exhausted, covered in mud and blood, and quietly mourning the loss of the people he was supposed to protect.

She wanted to reach out to him but she was unable to move, and when Simon and Mark walked up to them with gloomy faces, the General in Robin took over, duty driving him onward, and she could do nothing except watch him leave under the rain.

Her stomach twisted into knots and she felt sick, her eyes resuming their survey of all the wounded and grieving people huddled in the crammed tortuous trees, shivering like leaves as they tried to tend to their injuries as best as they could.

"David!"

Ally's desperate cry ripped through the air as the young woman raced across the slimy roots and threw herself at her husband a few paces behind Maeve, the soldier staggering on his feet while he crushed his wife against him with his good arm, the couple weeping with relief and joy.

Another soldier soon joined them with little Rose and Sam tucked in his arms, and as David embraced his children fiercely, Ally unexpectedly crashed against Maeve, wrapping her trembling arms around her neck.

"Thank you," she whispered in her ear, shaking with unbridled emotions and the ghost of complete terror. "Thank you for bringing him back."

Maeve hugged the young mother, tears swelling in her own eyes.

"Thank you," David breathed as well, stepping closer as his wife released Maeve and returned to his loving embrace, kissing and clutching her children. "I owe you my life. I am forever indebted to you."

Maeve shook her head in quiet protest, subtly wiping at her eyes through the rain. "I would chase after you again in a heartbeat. You owe me nothing."

The soldier stared at her, looking profoundly humbled and touched, then nodded solemnly in acceptance of her words before returning his attention and care to his family.

Averting her gaze to give them some privacy, she swallowed hard against the tide of emotions in her chest and quickly got a grip on her composure, forcing herself to move.

Instinctually, her feet guided her to Leisa and Coop as they distributed water and bandages to the many wounded seated amidst the muddy roots, some wrapping nasty gashes on their arms while others cleaned up deep bites on their legs.

Despite feeling painfully exhausted and aching at every joint, she insisted on aiding as many people as she could, helping with stiches and dislocated limbs, recovering satchels of food that had gone astray during the battle, salvaging broken weapons, listening and comforting those stricken with grief.

Hours trickled by as the convoy wept and grieved, licking its wounds like an injured animal before steeling itself for another long, gruesome day after an entire sleepless night, not to mention downright traumatizing.

It took forever but as a new day hesitantly inched closer, the heavy darkness finally traded its place with the usual grayish gloom of dawn, with a chilling dampness that clung to the morbid air as the rain yielded at last.

Maeve stood frozen in one spot for a long time, unable to tear her gaze away from the frail children and toddlers that seemed so disturbingly out of place in the destruction left behind by the bloody battle, that she nearly jumped out of her skin when Robert Thomet stepped beside her.

"You think we're all mad, don't you?" the tall bearded man from Denwood mused gruffly as he too glanced at the grieving families tending to their wounds. "You think we're out of our minds for bringing children in this cursed place."

His words were not voiced as questions, but rather as guessing assumptions of her thoughts and opinion, and Maeve found herself unable to deny the truth of them. It was madness to bring innocent children in these foul, deadly woods. They would all be either traumatized or butchered, and it made her blood stir with alarming concern.

"I made the crossing from Southampton to Denwood when I was four," he began grimly, his deep green eyes drifting to distant memories just like when he had told her about the raid conducted by the Blood Raiders on his village. "My father was sick and no healer in Southampton knew what was wrong with him. They tried everything, but the sickness only got worse and worse every season." Robert stared ahead into space, lost in the past. "They said he would probably die within the next three moons, but my mother refused to give up. Her last chance was to try and bring him to the healers in Denwood." He paused then, levelling his heavy gaze back on her. "And she did."

Maeve remained silent, bearing the weight of his green eyes as he faced her more fully, his leather armor caked with mud and dry blood.

"I remember everything from that crossing…the screams, the blood, the monsters," he continued his tale, as if compelled to try and nuance her opinion on the matter. "But if you had to choose between the man you love and your child, would you be able to?" His question echoed in the cold air between them. "Would you be able to watch him die, knowing there might have been a way to save him?"

Maeve felt her jaw clench at the terrible question, her mind drifting to a ship with white sails on the high seas before she could catch herself. She glanced at the destroyed campsite and clamped her lips together, trying her best to keep this hypothetical man nameless and faceless for the sake of their discussion. But still her chest swelled with something she could not name as she finally returned her gaze to the tall, gruff villager. "I don't think he would let me choose," she answered almost in a whisper, pushing the words past the knot that was forming in her throat. "He would never want me to bear the weight of such a choice."

Robert Thomet appraised her quietly, watching as she avoided his eyes and shifted on her feet uncomfortably, the ghost of a smile haunting his face. "I don't believe there is a right or a wrong choice…" he pondered gently, his voice trailing off as his green eyes sought the nearest children in the convoy as they sat with their families, battered and bruised, but alive. "These people all made theirs. They want to help their families in Denwood." He paused momentarily, his gaze becoming distant and shadowed once again. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad my mother saved my father."

Then he walked away, abandoning her to the dark clouds of conflicting thoughts amassing in her head. She understood his point, but her heart was silently breaking for all the children who would grow up with a missing parent after this crossing, fallen under the claws of the terrifying Skinwalkers, lost in the Blind Mountains forever.

She was thankful not to have to carry the burden of such a choice right now, and she forced herself not to judge those who had made it, whatever their reasons were.

With one last look at the bloodied convoy, growing colder and colder, she shoved herself in motion at last.

Her body was desperately screaming for rest as she finally wove her way back to her fellow companions around a small fire, tending to their respective wounds in silence and washing away all the blood and mud painted on their skin, with the flames casting off a welcoming cloud of heat.

With his massive stature, Mark was sitting on a rock with his trousers ripped open on the side of his thigh where claw marks had stopped bleeding, Robin was cleaning a nasty gash on his forearm and Simon was pressing a wet cloth to his temple, a thin line of dry blood trailing down his pale cheek. Next to them, Coop was cleaning up bloody arrows he had retrieved from the Skinwalkers' bodies to fill up their quivers again while Leisa stood by a tree, her eyes and ears acute for any suspicious sound that might echo from the woods even if the night was over, which was a comfort for the time being.

At least until darkness fell again, they were relatively safe, presuming the Skinwalkers wouldn't unexpectedly attack them during the day. It was a rare incidence to encounter them during daylight, but still Robin had seen it occur on a few occasions, which was more than enough to keep everyone on their toes.

When Maeve joined everyone by the fire, they wordlessly welcomed her and scooted aside to offer her a seat amongst them.

When she sat down next to him, limbs heavy like iron, Robin quietly offered her a wet cloth and hesitantly pointed to the gash on her cheek, catching himself before he almost pressed it to her skin. Their eyes locked in a quiet exchange, a thousand words drifting between them yet never spoken out loud, and she took the cloth from his hand with a silent thank you.

She had just pressed the soothing material to her stinging cheek when Leo trotted up to them and Robin stood up at once to face his comrade. "How many?"

The young soldier pressed his lips together grimly. "Forty-two," he answered, referring to the victims the Skinwalkers had killed during the night, the official number feeling like a punch in the gut.

"And the ringers?"

"Clive used a bell at the rear and managed to return alive, but Peter and Lucas are nowhere to be found," Leo said, shaking his head with sadness.

Everyone lowered their heads in sorrow, sharing a silent thought for the young brothers whom Maeve recalled both had long black hair tied up behind their heads. It appeared no one had run to their rescue while they sacrificed themselves with the bells. Or perhaps one brother had made the sacrifice and the other had followed to save him…

"The children are all safe, and the rest of the people suffered many different wounds, both minor and severe," Leo added, continuing his report. "Claw marks, bites, scratches, sprained wrists, broken legs, missing fingers…the list goes on and on."

Maeve watched as Robin wearily wiped a hand across his face and stood up to pace around the campfire, the wheels spinning in his head.

"What do we do?" Leisa asked gravely, her face veiled by her usual emotionless mask.

Robin stood with his back to them, staring at the rest of the convoy somberly. "We rest for three hours, get some sleep and stabilize the wounded so they can keep on trekking. Then we get on the move again and cover as much ground as possible before darkness settles in again."

And before the Skinwalkers return, Maeve thought dreadfully, watching as everyone silently tilted their heads in agreement around the campfire with no second thought, which somehow sparked a flame of revolt within her blood.

Before Leo could trot back to the rest of the campsite to carry Robin's orders, she spoke up with a mix of determination and a hint of provocation.

"What if Peter and Lucas are still alive?" she asked, poking at the subject no one wanted to address. "You're not going to go look for them?"

Robin turned to stare at her in mild surprise, as if unsure he'd heard her correctly. "And risk losing more of my men?" he asked back, answering his own question. "No."

"But maybe they're hurt somewhere," Maeve insisted yet again, glancing at the others to gauge their reactions.

"We checked the surrounding area and found no trace of them," Leo shook his head sadly, pointing out the obvious. "The Skinwalkers most likely killed them. There's no way they could-"

"You don't know that for sure. You just said Clive returned alive," she countered stubbornly with a shake of her head. "Maybe Peter and Lucas are hurt somewhere and are trying to find their way back to the convoy as we speak."

"We're not sending a search party out for them," Robin declared firmly, attempting to crush wherever this discussion was going. "We would lose too much time."

"Some of us can go look for them while you keep going," she proposed simply, hoping someone might agree with her as she stood up to face Robin. "We'll catch up with you later."

"No," he rejected the idea with a dangerous edge flickering in his voice, intently locking his blue gaze with hers. "We're not splitting up."

But Maeve looked straight back at him, her tone perfectly level and calm, yet simmering with a spark of defiance. "And I'm not continuing until I know for sure whether those two men are dead or if they're still alive," she stated with finality, a part of her genuinely caring for the missing brothers and hoping they were alive and safe, and another, more feral part of her, that suddenly just wanted to snarl and bite until Robin snapped like a twig, to provoke whatever disproportionate protectiveness he held towards her so she could prove her point and perhaps drive him to admit everything he was hiding from her.

"I'm not sending anyone out there, Maeve," Robin repeated with insistence, pointing at the looming trees with a warning, his tone shrouded in command as the General in him surfaced to counter her dangerous request.

Maeve pressed her lips together tightly and gritted her teeth, painfully aware that everyone was watching their confrontation closely as the air thickened with tension, like a storm forming on the high seas.

"Give me a bell," she demanded, the fragile silence dangerously shifting as she challenged Robin in front of his men, her demand downright provoking.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath and grow still as statues, while Robin looked at her like a wolf with his hackles raised, cornered and seething.

"No." His refusal was as final as her request, but she stood her ground.

"Give me a bell," she asked again, holding his heated gaze stubbornly.

But he quickly matched the fire in her eyes and shook his head with a low growl. "You almost got yourself killed during the attack tonight. I'm not going to give you the means to throw yourself in the face of danger again."

There it was again, that strange unwarranted protectiveness that simmered beneath his tensed composure. The same protectiveness that seemed to make Leisa follow her around like a second shadow to shield her from every danger. Protection without reason. Questions without answers.

But that wouldn't stop her. The lives of two men were at stake.

"I did what I had to do," she stated calmly. "If it wasn't for me, David would be dead right now."

"She's right, Robin…" Mark confirmed tentatively but was quickly silenced by a scowl from his superior as Robin shot him a silent warning not to interfere in the current matter.

"Look," she insisted again, still ablaze with determination. "You allowed me to be a part of this trek and I intend to protect these people any way I can, so I-"

"You can help by doing what you're told," Robin snapped angrily.

"Robin," Leisa warned in disapproval, as if he had just said something the wrong way, but Robin merely glowered at her in return.

Maeve looked between the two, wondering what line he may have overstepped as another tensed silence cloaked them all, but she continued to cling to her request.

"I was never good at following orders, General," she replied levelly. "You can either give me a bell, or I'll simply scream my head off to catch the Skinwalkers' attention and then blame you for a voice loss. Your choice. Although, the former alternative means much less trouble for you."

Everyone held their breath once more, watching as Robin stood still as stone, his fists clenching at his sides as he silently fought to keep his composure.

"If you go out there on your own, you won't make it back," he warned, blue eyes linking with hers again, profoundly annoyed and yet growing visibly worried.

"She won't be alone," Leisa suddenly declared as she stood by Maeve's side.

Maeve stared at the feline woman, momentarily speechless and stunned by her solidarity as the Radakeel proceeded to hand her her backpack, her sword and the daggers she had lost during the battle.

Words failed her as she wished to thank the woman, but then a part of her quickly suspected that Leisa had simply offered to accompany her out of necessity, to protect her, since she never seemed to let her out of her sight and acted as a human shield every time danger roared its ugly head.

But Maeve wasn't about to turn down such an offer, and she seized the opportunity right away before Robin could protest. "See? And I'm sure Coop would love to come with me as well, right Coop?"

The tanned-man beamed at her at once, his chest rising with pride as he swung his quiver over his shoulder and hopped to his feet to join her. "Sure!"

The flames from the campfire hissed and popped as Robin glowered at the three of them, his lips drawn in a firm line as anger almost radiated from him like steam.

She had managed to rally two of his men to her cause, defying his authority, and everyone was well aware of it.

But she stood her ground, burning with the genuine hope to rescue the lost brothers while also simmering with provocation against all the mysteries no one wanted to reveal to her. And yet a small corner of her heart ached with guilt at the same time.

Robin knew the Blind Mountains like the back of his hand, probably better than anyone else. He knew about all the dangers hiding behind every slimy rock and rotten tree, and about all the deadly creatures lying in wait to kill them all. He may be angry at her for defying him, but as she locked eyes with him, she also saw how profoundly afraid he was, torn apart with fear. Fear of losing more men, fear of failing in his mission to lead everyone safely out of the woods, fear that everyone would die because of him. He knew the cost of travelling the woods and he wanted to act in the best interest of everyone he had to protect, even if it sometimes meant he had to sacrifice soldiers in the process.

He had every right to be angry at her for her defiance, yet part of her wondered how much of that fury was aimed at himself. Because if he had the choice, she knew for certain that he wouldn't hesitate even one second to save the two missing men, but his duty as General and the responsibility he had towards the entire convoy simply forbade him to be reckless. The price would simply be too high to pay if he tried to save everyone.

Yet why had he jumped down that ravine to save her?

As she watched the swirls of emotions drifting in Robin's haunted eyes, with a silent plea buried beneath all his anger and frustration, she suddenly realized what she was asking of him. She was defying his authority and asking him to condone a rescue mission he was opposed to for obvious safety reasons, but she was also daring him to let her go, to let her slip away from his protective radar where he would not be able to save her if something went wrong.

And that protectiveness was at the root of everything he was hiding from her, linked to the mystery of her hair.

Her little rescue mission suddenly felt much more important than she thought, echoing with much higher stakes than the lives of two men.

It was her own life that was at stake.

Would the General act in line with the duty he had towards the safety of the entire convoy or would he choose to follow after the red-headed woman whom he somehow had to protect at all costs?

"Simon," Robin finally spoke after a long pause, his blue eyes locking with hers like an anchor that rooted her on the spot, betraying his answer before he even uttered the words.

The blond captain stepped up. "Yes?"

"Take the lead and keep heading north-east," Robin declared grimly. "If we're not back before nightfall, it will be your duty to get all these people out of the mountains safely."

"But-"

"You can do it, Simon," Robin nodded to his friend with resolute confidence, leaving no choice to the soldier but to dip his head in acceptance and swallow hard with quiet dismay.

He was coming with her.

The General was choosing her, driven by some unexplained duty to protect her, that was stronger than his duty to ensure the safety of everyone else.

Her blood suddenly filled with dread and her mind blurred at the edges, unable to wrap around such a reality. Why on earth would her life mean so much?

She opened her mouth to speak but Robin was already moving, picking up a satchel by the fire to retrieve something, and by the time he returned to face her, the words had died on her tongue.

"Use it if you must, but only if you must," he said in a grave tone as he handed her a bell, holding her gaze for a moment to make sure his words were sinking in.

Maeve took the bell, swallowing past the knot that was tightening in her throat. "I will."

Robin then shook his head with a low growl and looked away, a silent curse almost falling from his lips, as if her stubbornness would doom them all.

Then he threw the satchel angrily at Coop who caught it square in the chest, and grabbed his sword to slip it in its scabbard on his back.

When he walked past her to lead the way down the convoy to embark on their dangerous rescue mission, he lowered his voice to properly admonish her, his words both prickling her skin like needles and yet prompting a small smile on her lips.

"You must have driven that captain of yours completely mad."