Chapter 4

Only twilight remained when they arrived back at the barracks and the aroma of small wooden fires filled the vale. Their way back had been in silence, but now Iorveth quietly asked: "Will you eat with us? I'm sure Ciaran, my second in command, will have something prepared." She answered with a silent nod, and cautiously followed him into one of the buildings, hesitating ever so slightly under the doorframe.

They were greeted by the mouth-watering scent of roasting meat and mushrooms sizzling over an open fire. An elf was huddled beside it, tending to the food. As soon as he noticed them, he struggled to stand up to greet them but failed. With a low grunt he sank back on his knees and offered an apologetic smile instead. "You must be Enwynn. The others are still on guard duty, but the food is almost ready if the two of you want to join me." He motioned for them to sit down beside the fire with him.

Enwynn murmured a quiet "Thank you!" and lowered herself onto the soft furs. Iorveth remained silent but copied her movements. "I am glad to learn that you are alive.", Ciaran resumed the conversation while focussing once more on the sizzling pan in front of him. She could swear that to her right Iorveth inhaled sharply, almost threateningly and a small flex of shoulder muscle was all that betrayed the other elf's acceptance of whatever had just passed. It was beyond her to grasp the content of this wordless conversation, only that she seemed to play a central part in it.

"You are recovering from some serious wounds. Let me know if I can be of any help, please.", Enwynn muttered when the following silence grew too much for her liking. Obviously, there were things that Iorveth didn't want her to know or at least didn't want discussed through someone else's lips. She could accept that for now, but at the same time she liked this Ciaran's aura and could tell that he had only meant well. She reckoned he was worth the effort of getting to know him and offering her skills as a healer was the least, she could do.

"You are kind. Thank you!" A small smile of his fluttered over her, before he turned back to the cooking and explained: "I manage well enough most of the days, but our travel here wasn't exactly restful, and the pain is worst when I try to lie down to sleep."

While Ciaran started to heap meat and mushrooms into three bowls, Enwynn rummaged through the small satchel she always carried with her on her belt and produced three small, dried twigs. As soon as the other elf had handed them their bowls, she presented them to him in her outstretched palm: "Chew on these during your evening meals. They taste terrible to say the least, but they will help you sleep and ease the pain." Ciaran was obviously astonished that she happened to carry just the right medicine with her but took the wood with a thankful smile. How should he have any idea how often she herself needed the relief these little twigs offered? He eyed them sceptically at first yet braved putting one in his mouth after his first spoonful of food. His fair features turned into a grimace at once.

(+++)

However disgusting it might have been for him to chew it, the medicine had taken effect, immediately. Ciaran had barely finished his bowl of food when weariness overcame him and mumbling an apology he sank down on the furs by the fire and slept.

"Thank you!", Iorveth muttered after he had watched his friend's steady breath for a while. "The dh'oine who did this to him, paid dearly but revenge alone cannot heal wounds."

"Wouldn't that be nice…", Enwynn muttered under her breath without humour and couldn't keep her gaze from flickering over her maimed arms, hidden beneath her long gloves. Silence stretched between them, and she could feel his intent stare on her for a long time before she found the courage to address the thoughts that had been gnawing at her ever since the morning.

"You have spoken to Saskia before yesterday. The two of you know each other well." It wasn't easy to keep her tone calm, to not betray the storm of fear and insecurity that had been raging through her for hours now.

"How do you know?", he asked after some consideration. So, at least he didn't try to deny it, didn't try to talk her out of it. "I may have withered, but I am not blind. It was evident in every word and movement of you both. She trusts you and you trust her. And you never trust anybody lightly."

Iorveth hesitated, carefully weighing his next words: "I have been supporting her way hither for some time now. It is in her that I trust to finally achieve what we have been fighting for all those years. We had a secret understanding; it was a different thing altogether though to alliance in the open. As you well know it needed a siege to make the humans see reason and allow us in."

So many words unspoken between those lines… So much he kept from her… The realisation hit Enwynn with brute force and fed her resolve for what she would have to offer next: "I will let you go if that is what you want. You will be released from your oath. After all, you believed me dead. I will not blame you for finding love again. Me living shall not be an obstacle for your happiness."

(+++)

"Are you out of your mind?", he hissed angrily after her words had sunken in. Had they been alone, he would have yelled at her, maybe shaken her by the shoulders. How could she even propose such a thing? Propose separation with such a level and calm voice? Who was this creature, carrying the face of his long-lost love?

"No. But I have changed and not for the better. Just consider it.", Enwynn answered. With some effort she stood up, cast him a sad smile and turned to leave.

He couldn't move, couldn't scream. White anger burned behind his remaining eye and blurred his vision, while all the words he didn't manage to throw at her raged through his breast like a thunderstorm. The door had long closed behind her slender form, before he slowly managed to struggle out of his stupor.

"You should follow her.", the sleeping form of Ciaran suddenly murmured. "She will see reason.", Iorveth grunted in return as soon as he had overcome the first shock of his friend having overheard their argument.

"Iorveth…", Ciaran tried to press, but knew he had already lost the fight against his commander's stubbornness. "Enough! This is none of your concerns.", Iorveth snarled and retreated into one of the dark corners of the barrack.

(+++)

It was in the late hours of the afternoon that Enwynn first heard of the uproar that had went through Vergen this morning. The humans had killed their own king. She couldn't say that she particularly cared for the loss of this life, but the implications were grim if Saskia didn't recover soon. Yet, rumour was the witcher had been all over the place collecting the ingredients Philippa needed. If anything, royal blood would not have been too difficult to obtain.

She had almost reached the tavern when someone shouted her name. An elf she didn't recognize hurried towards her, bowed slightly and said: "Lady Enwynn, commander Ciaran sent me to find you. He needs to talk to you, back at the barracks." When she nodded shortly, he left without further ado.

So back the way she had just come… Most probably he needed more medicine, and she still had a big enough supply in her satchel. When she reached the barracks wherein the Scoia'tael had made camp, she soon recognized Ciaran sitting in front of one of the buildings, taking in the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun. He stirred as soon as he became aware of her but didn't try to stand up. A rueful smile fluttered over his features. "Enwynn! I had my men look for you throughout the city, but you were not to be found until now."

"I'm sorry. I had left town to perform the mourning ritual for my brother and only just returned. Did you need more medicine?"

"No." His voice faltered. "Have you heard what happened to the dh'oine prince this morning?", Ciaran asked after some consideration. Enwynn just nodded in response, still unsure where this was to lead. "Given the instable situation, Iorveth has left Vergen to get reinforcements. I thought you should know…" She somehow managed to gather enough focus to mutter "Thank you." before she turned and left, moving towards her own little, quiet camp like pulled on invisible strings.

The news that the Virgin had recovered surged up against her unhearing ears when she had nearly reached her destination. He had left without a word, and she couldn't even blame him after yesterday's argument. All that was left now, was to trust in his safe return even if it wasn't her, he would return to.

(+++)

Enwynn knew the gates were still holding but more and more wounded were carried into the small grotto that she had prepared as makeshift hospital. She delegated the work as best she could between the few helping hands, she had at her disposal – minor injuries to Aideen or Yakir, major injuries to herself or Petra, any terminal cases to the priest… It hadn't taken them long to work with the precision of a dwarven clockwork, moving in a dance macabre throughout their cramped confines. None of them noted the hours passing.

At long last a rallying cry thundered through the troops outside and penetrated even the walls around them: Scoia'tael!

He had returned with reinforcements, just in time to change the tides of the battle!

The sun had long set, when she left the relative shelter of the cliffs surrounding the hospital, to get at least some gasps of fresh air. Blood encrusted most of her front and sweat stained the rest of her clothes. They had done what they could. It was the grim reality of every battle, that dead bodies were piled in a separate corner of their facility and somewhere else in a quiet corner of the city someone would already be digging a grave to hold them. A heavy sigh escaped her, when the reality of life slowly began to seep back into her, now detached from the focus of just saving the one life on the table before her.

Enwynn wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she longed to see Iorveth again with her own eyes. He hadn't been brought to her care throughout this seemingly never-ending day and none had reported him dead either, so she could only assume that he was busy helping Saskia restoring order in the city. It didn't take long for her name to be called, forcing her back inside to work.

She finally learned it from Ciaran, when he came by insisting on her eating at least a small supper after the day's trials. He in turn had learned it from Dandelion the bard. Iorveth had left Vergen together with the white-haired vatt'ghern barely an hour after the battle was won in pursuit of Saskia and Philippa. Iorveth was gone. Again, without a word.

Just one more (already nearly complete) chapter to finish. We're getting there!