Author's Note: Woohoo! An update within what...two-ish weeks? Mind you, I admit this is kind of a filler one too. I swear, it was going to be the Rescue. But...well...I'm tired. And lazy. And I want that part to be exciting and well written for you, which I am completely incapable of doing today because I wrote out a six page essay earlier about Jane Eyre and her character for English, and then proceeded onto a multi-page math test, and then re-wrote the English essay to make it neater because I didn't like how it was written. And after that I went to the gym for an hour and a half. And did ALL of that off of the energy of a single apple eaten at 6:55 AM because I need to go grocery shopping (which I don't have time for)...and I'm still rather loopy and I shouldn't be ranting to you about my day. That's what blogspot is for... Ah, well.
Again, spelling errors are out of laziness because I don't want to download a spell checker and I am far too tired to do that at the moment. I am thinking coffee would make my life, as would carbs, because my house has been void of those two quantities for about two months now.
Anyways, enjoy the nothingness.
_xoxo, Mintermist
Chapter 15
Nearly
Inhay-ahle.
Violent, searing lights exploded across his vision with each breath, accompanied by the throbbing of a thousand white hot flames.
Exh-exhale.
The pain was a monster, a beast, a dragon, clawing out the flesh of his back with the cruel claws of brutality. The raucous, drunken cheers of the inebriated, vile crowd still echoed, deleterious, in his ears. Violent humiliation was their sport, as he relived the second beating he had endured.
In-inhale.
He had been such a fool…
The first beating had simply been a warning, he knew. A statement of dominance. The second… thrashing… if that was a gentle enough term for the obscenity that had occured, had been the result of a wounded ego, overconfident and thus insulted by the idea of danger.
Exha-ale.
"Oh…Lin-ota…" he murmured his wife's name into the cold, wet earth he lay sprawled upon. Wind and rain pounded down upon the scrap of soiled cloth serving as the prison of a tent. "I'm…so so-orry.."
Inhal-le.
His cheek pressed down upon the gravelly dirt, rocks imprinting their form onto his skin and mud smearing a poultice across his bruises. His eyes roamed deliriously about his confinement.
That was when he saw her, his Linota, sitting crouched in the shadowy corner of the tent, and he knew that he was either dead, hallucinating, or mad. Her red hair flamed like a corona, and her face, half hidden in darkness, bore an expression of fierce gravity. She stared at him with an intense pity, but he could not understand…why was there a cloth tied about her mouth? Why were her wrists bound, and week-old bruises mottling her skin?
"Lin-ota," he called to her hoarsly, stretching out his hand to her, his nerves screaming in agony.
She looked at him with bewilderment etched and apparent in her eyes, and shook her head wordlessly.
And then it struck him.
The bewilderment in her gaze was nothing short of fear and apprehension. A silent question danced fearfully in her gaze. "Who are you?"
This…this was not Linota.
The darkness of his pain overtook him before he could make the connection.
Before he could identify her, his red-haired source of jealous error.
She was none other than Jane Turnkey.
Adrenaline pumped through Jester's veins, frigid spring water fresh from the mountain peaks. Cold fury, and the flashes of his nightmares, drove him forward, nullifying his fear. They had been riding so long that Jester had lost track of time. He only knew that he would find her, no matter the cost. Despite his inner tremblings of what could be, what might be, what very well may have occured...
His heart had been twisted in a perpetual knot as of late, and even now it lurched.
Jester shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, before their insipidness could penetrate his defenses. "Steady…" he murmured to himself, a phrase which he fondly remembered Jane uttering countless of times during her sparring matches with Gunther. And the villainous practice dummy.
He chuckled bitterly. To think that once he had been frightened by the mere possibility that Jane might prefer Gunther… and that now, he wished more than anything that he were Jane's fellow knight apprentice, in order to be better equipped for such a situation as this.
"Al' right there, lad?" Wymund's voice was pensive and uncharacteristically thoughtful, as Jester's cousin manoevered his horse to ride beside him.
"Mmm? Oh…yes, I am, I suppose… just…rather nervous."
"'Course y'are. Everyone is, their first battle."
"But, do not worry, Jester! As they are the overconfident buffoons we know them to be, we could very well steal in and out of there quick and easy, and be back home in time for breakfast!" Ippolito's voice was cheerful and optimistic in its tenor, cutting through the rainfall, and Jester couldn't help but smile in return.
"Just remember wha' I taught you with that sword. If all else fails, hack an' slice like you're juggling fer dear life," Wymund advised, before edging his horse, Dryfter, to the front of the band. Jester's cousin exchanged a few words with his father and Lucius, before Lucius called for a halt.
The group dismounted below a copse of trees, huddling beneath their cloaks.
"We are quickly approaching the camp," Lucius said solemnly. "We know the men to have caroused this night, drink flowing freely as the rain. This is our time to strike, swift and strong." He etched a diagram into the earth, pointing to their positions. "The central firepit is here, so we will enter in two parties from the south and the west. The river and cliffside back their northern and eastern exits. Tiberinus, Wymund, Godric and Amice, you will enter from the south, closest to the firepits in the shelter of the cliff walls. Move swiftly, and let your skill with the staffs strike not to kill whenever possible. Save swords for those that are coherent. We do not want to descend to the murderous level of these vile pigs who masquerade as men and fully slaughter them." He spat into the earth, a mark of his distaste for the brigands. "Linota, Octavia, and I will cover you from the treeline with our bows, striking from behind when they are concerned with what is before their eyes." Lucius withdrew six of his ten throwing knives, and passed them between Jester and Ippolito.
"Speed and tenacity is your goal. Jester and Ippolito, and make for the tents with these. The prisoner tent should be obvious. Four guards stand about it, a pitiful scrap of cloth. Use the knives, for I know the two of you have true gypsy hands and are capable of throwing them with precision. We will join you shortly thereafter to deal with Cliff and Léon. Does everyone understand?"
Jester nodded grimly, as Lucius added more instructions, and the party disbanded into their specific groupings.
"Ready?" Jester asked Ippolito, dismounting from Bishop and bringing him into the hidden cover of the tree line. Ippolito followed suite, with a brisk nod.
"Aye, as much as ever. May fortune smile upon us."
They slipped into the trees, ducking and dodging branches and mossy ruts. The massive oaks, evergreens and elms stood thick and impenetrable, towering walls of foliage, and the twisted roots below their feet wove into intricate patterns. A tapestry. A labyrinth. A jigsaw puzzle…
A reminiscent smile ghosted onto Jester's face, as his feet nimbly picked their way through the uneven terrain. Memories flooded him, full of the comfortable blue of his general attire, of red hair, of autumn evenings huddled in Pepper's kitchens sampling stew, of lazy summers spent by the lake…
"Jester!" The Jane in his memories called to him from the past. "Do come along for a night flight with Dragon and I!" He could remember all too well the eager gleam in her eyes, the camaraderie in her stance, the red corona whipping about her thin face in the evening breeze. And he felt once again the fearfulness that had coursed through his veins. A flight? At night? On Dragon? With Jane? With Jane! Yes! YES! A…wait…a flight? Heavens…no…that was just too-
"N-no thank you, Jane…I really..uhh.. must finish this ballad..you know, for the King..and..all.." The lame excuse had fallen from his lips before he had had time to think them through…
He chuckled quietly to himself as he and Ippolito crouched behind a thick evergreen, before a heavy wistfulness fell upon him.
What a coward he had been.
He prayed his courage would hold tonight. That cowardice would not pervade his actions tonight. Or ever again..
"A little further," Ippolito murmured, after they had maintained their hidden crouch for nearly fifteen minutes.
Jester bit the inside of his cheek, as his ears picked up raucous laughter, and he flexed his muscles as they crept forwards silently, shaking all stiffness from his joints.
The brigand camp in the clearing was evident, a ramshackle arrangements of huts and tents. Jester grimaced, his eyes passing over the miserable conditions. Jane..oh, dear Jane. She was somewhere here…there! Jester swiftly pointed out the meagre tent. Four men stood about it, two of them drinking deep swigs of some hard liquer, and the other two chatting idly. Discontent was awash upon their unshaven faces, and Jester had a hard time controlling the desire to burst from their concealment and rush into the tent. Jane must be there! Jane! Jane! Jane!
"And now we wait, I suppose…" Jester muttered, taking a slow breath to calm his tingling emotions.
"That we do," replied Ippolito, nodding to the firepit. The first party had not yet emerged…and Jester ground his teeth in anticipation.
His eyes were fixated upon the sole fire, huddled next to the cliffside out of the rain just as Lucius had said it would be. Six men lounged about it, clearly drunk as they sang crude songs of buxom women and flowing mead. If Lucius's estimation that there were fifteen men remaining, including Cliff …that left four. Perhaps sleeping or scouting… Jester grinned without realizing it.
There was not much remaining of this band…
"Jester," Ippolito nudged him, pointing to the enshadowed figures emerging into the clearing. "It is time."
Adrenaline and hope broke out across his frame.
He was nearly with her.