The Ambition of the Dreadlord Raveres
Part II: Allies, Foes, and Bargains
Episode Four
Raveres struggled in resurfacing as she clumsily and poorly tried to swim. Her heavy limbs weighed her down and the shock of the cold water stabbed her skin like a thousand pins at once. Above her, back on the ship, Druchii were being thrown or desperately jumped into the water as screams and the rapport of the black powder weapons resumed.
'Where there's life… there's hope…'
The words of the Estalian, though condescending, were correct, and in the cold waves of the ocean, even the stern voice of Raveres' mother began to echo a similar mentality.
Forcing herself to spit out the salty water Raveres gasped and tried swimming forwards while a ghostly vision of her mother's tall and darkly covered body appeared in the water beside her,
'You have many children of vengeance to birth yet my daughter. You are shamed? Bah! This shame is nothing! You lost?'
Raveres tried moving her tired arms forwards as she kicked wildly below the surface. In her mind she replied defeatedly, 'I failed you mother. I… I wasn't ready to leave home. I shouldn't have left home…'
Her mother's face sneered and she growled, "Silence Raveres!"
Though the presence of her mother was but a product of her concussed mind Raveres couldn't help but feel fear at the hiss of her mothers' voice.
"The Witch King was burned alive in front of the whole Phoenix court. He screamed like a woman and ran as his skin melted and bubbled like raw meat."
Raveres continued kicking and swimming towards the sliver of land in the distance.
"Do you think he gave in and wished for death?"
Her mother began walking upon the water as if it were glass.
"He hurt, and he wailed and he wept. But he lives still. He endures still! What that Human spoke is the truth, where there's life there's hope."
She laughed and threw her head back, "And you yet live."
She began disappearing from view as Raveres coughed and sputtered sea-water.
'I yet live…' Raveres repeated.
'I live…'
She thought about home, her parents, and the glory of her triumphant return. A triumph she would make into a reality.
'I'll out do them all.'
She kicked harder and though her arms stung and burned she cut them through the water as if she were punching the life from the Human Annio.
'I live.'
Behind her the ship began cracking and erupting with flame. Stealing a glance over her shoulder she saw that the pirates had set the Witches Wail alight and were now sailing away. Several figures waved to her and among them a woman who stood beside the colourful Captain Annio.
Raveres spat the water from her mouth and continued cutting the water as she swam ahead. The land seemed closer, but at the same time the distance was so vast. So, she focused on her pain instead, on the humiliation and shame she'd received, her foolishness, her brashness, her youth and inexperience.
'Never… again…'
She kept swimming and kicking, chanting as she took in breaths over the water and pushed as hard as she could. She was bobbing like a cork in a great bowl. Waves sloshed around her and the crests of a few doused her head in water, trying to bring her under.
Defiantly she began chanting, 'I live… I live… I live!'
Fighting madly against the waves Raveres kept swimming, holding on to the promise of the land seemingly so close.
…
"Sir Jean! We missed it!"
An eager squire excitedly yelled to his master as he mounted a sandbar on the lush Araby coast.
"Eh? What boy?"
His aged knightly companion was several feet away and tying their horses to the trunk of a palm tree.
"The ships! We missed their battle!"
The knight scoffed, "Ships throwing things at each other is not a battle…" He laughed, "Nothing can be called a battle unless at least one knight is present!"
The squire smiled as he looked out to the sinking and fire covered wreck of the dark-sailed ship.
"Must have been pirates Sir Jean. They've set their prey alight and blown the powder magazine."
The knight held his hand to his swords hilt and huffed as he began climbing the sand hill his squire was atop. When he reached the crest he nodded,
"I think you may just be right boy. Oh, look son…"
The knight pointed to shapes in the waves.
"Poor sods didn't make it…"
Some bodies were floating in the water as the white tide brought them closer to the land. Among the bodies were boards, barrels, and other floating debris. The squire and knight quietly and solemnly watched for a few seconds before the young boy covered his eyes with a hand and squinted against the glare of the sun.
"Sir Jean! I think I see one still alive!"
The knight shook his head; though he was old his eyesight hadn't failed him completely.
"Moving from the motion of the water my boy… This cutthroat lot don't leave survivors."
The squire descended from the sandy hill and moved a few yards closer to the water. The knight slowly followed after his charge and groaned under the weight of his mail armour and tabard,
"Boy! Be careful!"
He looked up from the sand and saw the body that his squire was indicating. One of the corpses floating towards the shore did indeed look like it had purposeful movement.
"Are they men? The ship looked like it was from an imperial province… But it could easily have been commandeered by green-skins."
The squire moved forwards a little more, "It looks like a man to me sire!"
The knight's eyes opened, "Well then in the Lady's name we must aid them!"
The squire nodded and at his masters signal he ran towards where the body appeared to heading. As the boy approached the surf he stopped and took off his boots. Throwing the ill-fitting footwear behind him he rolled up the legs of his pants and took off his sword-belt, tabard, and tunic.
Shirtless and shoeless the boy charged into the water and as fast as he could towards the waterlogged man. His aged master yelled encouragement as he remained watching on the shore.
Under his breath the youth allowed himself some sense of triumph for his knightly act,
"I'm a hero! Ha-ha! I wonder if Gilles ever saved a drowning man?"
The boy's excitement began to fail as he got closer to the body. Its movement had stopped and he saw that the person had long white hair.
"My goodness it's an elder!"
Visions of chivalric duty and his lessons from Sir Jean spurred him on and he quickly shot his hands into the water under the old man's body. In flipping the body over the boy prayed that he wasn't about to see the horrifying and frightening face of a corpse. Pushing off the sandy floor he used all his might to flip the armoured body around.
'They need to breathe! Get their face out of the water you fool!'
When the face of the person turned, he saw that it was actually that of a very beautiful, young woman. Yet her hair was white!? The squire was so surprised by the revelation that he let her slip through his hands and sink back below the surface.
"Oh no!" he yelled.
Bringing the woman back out of the water he began dragging her backwards. The boy was straining loudly and groaning as her weight became less shared by the water and more dependent on him. Then his knightly master called over,
"Well, boy? Is it a fellow man or foul beast?"
The squire began pulling the body onto the shore and lowered her down carefully.
"It's a woman!" he responded.
The elder knight immediately began hastily walking towards the squire and the body. Then the squire continued, "I think she lives but her lungs are no doubt filled with water!"
Hastily trying to unbuckle her cuirass the squire struggled with the tight leather straps.
Seeing his efforts, the knight Sir Jean pulled a small knife from his belt, "Here boy!"
Tossing the blade, the squire easily caught it midair and pushed the sharp edge in-between the leather and the metal. Cutting the straps, the squire pulled the dented metal cuirass off the woman's chest and threw it to her side.
Apprehensively he regarded her wet and somewhat exposed bosom as his master knelt beside him, "It's fine boy! Do as I have taught you, push the lust from your mind and save the innocent's life!"
The squire nodded and quickly complied, "R-right!"
Pressing his hands to the centre of her chest and between her breasts the squire began pushing down on her ribs rhythmically.
"That's it!" the knight nodded. "Keep going boy… Now, give her the kiss of life!"
The squire nervously nodded, "I… r-right!"
The knight's voice became stern, "Now boy!"
Moving his lips against hers, the young squire pushed air into her mouth as he had been taught to.
"The chest!"
Returning his hands between her breasts he began pushing again, counting aloud as he did so. When he reaching the count of fifteen the woman began convulsing and coughing before noisily vomiting water.
Cheering Sir Jean nodded, "Now, roll her to her side!"
The squire nodded and immediately pushed the woman onto the side, off the back part of her cuirass as she began loudly coughing and sputtering water from her lungs. Her eyes fluttered open as she shook and convulsed, loudly pouring seawater from her lips.
The shaking made her hair move off her ear to reveal its longer shape, pointed tip, and glittering piercings. The knights' excitement at the success of his student slowly soured as the squire announced, "S-she's an elf!?"
"It's okay boy. You've saved her life. There's nothing to fear."
The squire looked up and nodded, "Right."
"You aided a creature in need; which is noble no matter what."
The she-elf groaned and whimpered deliriously before extending her right, gauntlet covered, hand towards the knight's foot. She began speaking and the squire lowered to take hold of her left hand comfortingly. At first the knight was about to descend and take up her right hand in his grasp like his squire. But then he realised…
She wasn't speaking the language of the elves of Ulthuan… and she wasn't an elf of the wood. His expression changed and he looked below her face. At the end of a black cord around her neck was a talisman in the shape of a symbol. Sir Jean recognised it as a piece of black magic.
'Her white hair? Her strange speech? By the gods, she's a wretched dark-elf!'
"Jacque! Step away from this foul creature!"
The squire looked up at his master with fright in his eyes, "Why milord?"
The knight gripped his blade and his legs bent. Jacque rose and immediately threw himself over the weakly breathing and mumbling she-elf.
"No! Wait Sir Jean! We are knights! Pledged to rescue and aid the poor, the downtrodden, and the misfortunate!"
"Move off the beast boy, she's a witch from the frozen lands across the sea!"
"Non! I will not Sir Jean!"
The knight furrowed his brow in confusion as he and his squire stared at each other tensely. The boy's lip quivered as he continued to defy his master.
"I saved her… I cannot allow a drowned person to survive the cold waters only to be slain without mercy!"
The knight's tired face eventually relented and he relaxed his arms reluctantly, letting go of his sword. He didn't have the energy in his heart to really fight anymore, especially with the ones he loved. The squire boy Jacque was his charge and he couldn't bring himself to truly scold or mistreat him.
Watching him relax, Jacque nodded, "I'm sorry Sir Jean… but it'd be a sin…"
The knight stepped forwards and lowered to Jacque's level, "Your heart is too pure for this world my boy…"
The young lad somewhat relaxed and moved back from overtop of the waterlogged elf. She was continuing to deliriously whisper. Her eyes were shut now and she shivered, chattering loudly in between the occasional elven word.
"She doesn't appear a witch Sir Jean…"
The boy sat beside her and reached for her left hand again.
"Witches are old and she looks so young. Though her hair is white…"
The knight took a deep breath and stood.
"I'll help you carry her over there."
Pointing towards the clutch of trees he'd tied the horses to the knight continued.
"She needs to be taken out of those clothes and put near a fire."
Jacque looked up at his master as his cheeks reddened.
"You've saved her from the waters and from my steel… You wouldn't want her to succumb to the elements, would you?"
Jacque looked down at the limp arm in his hands and shook his head wordlessly.
"Well then." The knight huffed and came towards her head, "Come on. You take her legs, they're lighter."
…
Jacque argued that the bonds were not necessary, but it was a fight Sir Jean was not about to concede. So, for their safety the she-elf was bound at her wrists and ankles after Sir Jean had removed her wet clothing. As Sir Jean tied the she-elf, Jacque built a fire in the shade of a clutch of palm trees and bushes neither Breton knew to call by name.
Though the knight ordered the boy to look away from her and to shield his eyes, it remained that Jacque was young, he was curious, and more than anything the she-elf was beautiful. Looking over her skin Jacque could see that her right arm had been cut somewhat deeply, and there were several nicks along her neck. Additionally, her right cheek was swollen and bruised; she'd been hit, hard.
Her eyes remained closed while they moved her and now even though she was being undressed she appeared as if she were simply sleeping. The elder knight proceeded in his work with a clinical regard for her flesh, and a complete control over his own body. He was past the age when the sight of a bare maiden would or could lead him to ruin…
But Jacque on the other hand? Seeing Sir Jean pull the she-elf's blouse from over her head was something the perverted squire was most interested in, and he nearly missed it. Tending to their horses and pulling their camp from the beasts' backs, Jacque hastily handed his cloth bedroll to Sir Jean.
The knight unfurled the roll and carefully laid the naked she-elf over top of it. Before drawing the cloth blanket over her body. Jacque paused and watched over Sir Jean's shoulder for a brief moment. The she-elf's shallow breaths looked so weak it was as if she had become deathly ill.
Looking down from her damp, and colour-drained features, Jacque couldn't help but blink and stare at her uncovered breasts. The pale flesh, veins, and rosy-pink nipples were strange to him, and Sir Jean, sensing the boys' gaze, quickly turned to scolded the squire's boyish curiosity.
"Jacque? I told you to shut your eyes, you creature!"
The boy darted his view away and he continued to unload their packs from their steeds, 'R-right! S-sorry master!"
The knight would have chuckled but the serious prospect of the she-elf dying sapped his appreciation for anything comedic. When the rest of their camp was unloaded Sir Jean wrapped the elf in a thicker blanket and the two Bretons lit the small fire Jacque had made. As the kindling cracked and popped loudly, Jacque stared into the glowing embers, but every now and then he stole a glance at the sleeping she-elf.
"Is she going to die Sir Jean?" he finally asked.
The knight poked their fuel with a piece of palm bark and shook his head, "No. she may take a while to recover. But she'll live."
Jacque nodded, and then looked up enthusiastically, "Should we check the others?"
The knight looked at his squire and then the bundled elf. With her legs and arms bound, in addition to her weak and delirious state, he had nothing to fear from her.
"Oui. Let's see if there are any others of her kin still living."
…
They waited and watched, checking the bodies that came up along the shore for almost two hours. But none of the bodies drew breath. Some were Humans, 'Estalians by the looks of them' Sir Jean said. But the majority were dark-elves, same as the girl.
As any hope of additional survivors soured, the Bretons turned from the water and Jacque instead asked the elder knight what the difference was among the elves, as they solemnly left the surf. Clearing his throat Sir Jean nodded,
"Long ago there was only one race of elven kin. But after a great cataclysm their kingdom had a sundering and their peoples divided into three."
The knight took a deep breath as they came over the sand bar and back into the shade of the small thicket.
"There are the Asur, or high elves, from Ulthuan; they trade often with us Bretonnians. The second group; the wood elves, or Asrai, they keep to themselves mostly, and then…"
He sighed and pointed to their still sleeping white haired she-elf.
"There are the dark-elves, or Druchii."
Jacque looked at the barely moving figure under the blanket and nodded. Then the knight unclipped his belt and took off his sword before sitting down. Changing the subject Sir Jean declared,
"You know boy, from all this excitement we've neglected to break our fast!"
Jacque smiled and began opening their bag of rations, "What shall we have Sir Jean?"
"I dare say we have some sausages left? Perhaps some apples too, but I swear boy if I have any more dates… I'll be fit to burst I'm telling you."
The squire smiled and pulled out a small iron pan, "Should I feed the horses too?"
The knight wordlessly nodded in replie.
…
Fluttering her eyes open Raveres awoke to the sound and smell of cooking food. Blinking crust from her eyes she groaned. Her throat felt as dry as a furnace and her arms ached with a strange pain.
Groggily she began thinking, 'I… live?'
Blinking more forcefully she looked upwards to see palms overhead and a blue sky beyond their green leaves.
"I, I-I'm alive?"
She noticed that she was wrapped in a blanket and that rather than being cold she was warm, actually pleasantly so. Beside her was the familiar crackling of a fire and even the chorus of searing meat in a pan. The smell was wonderful.
As Raveres tried turning towards the sound of the fire and she began to hear voices, though they sounded strange and distant to her she felt no impetus to fear them. All she could think was dull, very simple thoughts so far,
'Food?'
"No…" she verbally corrected, "Water… fresh…" She coughed, "Cool water… Fresh water…"
She tried moving her hands under the wool blanket around her and noticed that her wrists were bound.
'What? I… I'm captured?'
The last real vestiges of her sleep and weakness wore off as it sunk in:
"I'm captured!"
Her voice was pained and though she was awake, her delirium hadn't yet worn off.
"No! I'm no slave! I have a name!"
She tried writhing and fighting her bonds as the foreign voices became louder beside her.
"I am Raveres! Druchii noble of Naggarond! R-release me! I-I am n-no slave!"
Her writhing and burst of defiant struggle sapped her energy and she quieted as she saw a vague shape come into view beside her. Her voice faltered and she regressed into a basic state.
Pleadingly her body desired only one thing, and instead of defy her captors, she meekly begged, "W-water?"
Her pride, her personality, they fell to the side as her body screamed at her for the only thing it needed right now. Her throat cracked and she pleaded again with her mysterious captors,
"P-please… water?"
…
"By the Lady!" Jacque exclaimed.
Beside them the she-elf had awoken. At first, she moved and groaned so rapidly that it frightened the boy but eventually she tired herself out and began saying the same thing over and over, her voice lowering pathetically as she mewled.
"Didn't you know elf-speak Sir Jean?"
The knight shook his head as he came towards the she-elf's side.
"Gah… it was such a long time ago boy."
The she-elf's eyes weakly darted in-between the knight and squire as she continued saying the same thing over and over. But each time her voice became weaker and quieter.
"The dark-elves speech is different to high-elf. But it sounds like… Boy, bring the water skin!"
The squire nodded and moved the pan from the fire before untying the knight's large water skin from his horses' side. Handing the leather pack to his master the elf's eyes widened in gratitude as she weakly extended her arms towards it.
"Hang on, I'll help you… By the Lady I can barely believe myself…"
Uncorking the skin, Sir Jean helped direct the spout into the she-elf's mouth. Shutting her eyes, she greedily began drinking, nearly choking herself. Pulling the skin away Sir Jean warned,
"Slow down! By the gods, you'll hurt yourself!"
Jacque sat back down and watched on with interest. The she-elf's mouth and head moved after the dripping end of the skin like a calve and she mumbled before beginning to loudly drink again. Eventually she slowed her pace and Sir Jean pulled the skin away.
Her voice repeated what she had begun saying earlier and Jacque looked at Sir Jean. Placing the cork cap back to the spout he laid the leather water skin beside the elf's arm and tried to make sense of what she was saying. The knight furrowed his brow and stood up from the elf.
"What is it Sir Jean?"
The knight remained quiet and shook his head, "Nothing boy."
Pointing to the iron pan he motioned with his chin, "Don't burn the meat…"
"Oh!" the squire returned his attention to the sausages and poked at them quickly.
…
The water was like liquid bliss…
Raveres had never felt that desperate before and she knew that she never wanted to again. With the fresh water in her belly, her wits began to come back to her and she slowly understood what must have happened, she washed ashore and these Humans must have 'rescued' her.
She tried speaking to the Human knight but, he didn't seem to understand her. The other Human was a youthful squire… but more importantly he had a pan in his grip.
Taking some of whatever was in the iron skillet, the boy placed it onto a small clay plate and handed it to the knight. Raveres swallowed and tried moving under her covers. In addition to being bound, she discovered that under the woollen blanket she was nude…
'A trick no doubt! So I can't run off…'
Growling Raveres winced and exhaled uneasily, 'I thought I had died… I swore that I had died. All I remember is getting closer and closer to the shore… and then… my arms just gave out… and I felt, cold.'
Blinking and shivering at the hazy recollection Raveres was about to retch in pain when the smell of the meat became too powerful to ignore, and accompanying the food the knight loudly bit into an apple. Raveres' eyes widened and she shuddered as she watched the aged Human chew and swallow the fresh fruit before cutting into a piece of sausage.
Being so close to death and so weak in every aspect of her body she no longer felt shame to plead or beg. Finding her voice her thoughts poured out as Raveres extended her heavy, bound, and fatigued arms towards the knight.
"Please, please!"
She couldn't form another word as it was only the pursuit of mercy she was after. Though the Druchii was in no condition to appreciate the irony…
Her eyelids were heavy and her jaw stopped moving as she stared at the knight. The boy spoke and she tried moving her head to look at him. Then the knight nodded and the squire rose from where he was sitting to slowly walk towards her. He held a plate in his hands and she felt a powerful wave of joy douse her heart.
…
"Be careful Jacque…"
Sir Jean felt the parental need to say it but the squire didn't see how the exhausted and near-dead elf honestly posed any kind of threat. But he nodded nonetheless as he sat beside the she-elf on the sand.
Her face was like that of a weak babe, and her eyes looked up at Jacque with utter vulnerability. But the remnants of dark smudge gave her sharp lilac eyes a deeper colouring and intensity.
Cutting one of the sausages on his small plate Jacque extended the fork towards the she-elf's mouth and for a moment he thought she might not have the strength to reach it. But smelling the food so close to her, she shuddered and extended her head towards the tongs and Jacque overcame his apprehension of her to realise, she was literally so weak she couldn't eat on her own.
Bite after bite, Jacque obligingly helped feed the she- elf and when the meal was done, he remained sitting beside her. For a while she tried looking up at him but eventually her heavy lids shut and her breathing quieted to a low, steady, rhythm.
Jacque raised a brow and watched her with complete interest as she slept. Realising that this was the closest he'd ever been to a maiden before, and that, technically, he'd kissed her… Jacque couldn't help but feel a strange attraction to her.
As if Sir Jean could read his thoughts the old knight announced, "Be wary boy. I can already see her foul power over you."
The knight's voice startled the squire and he looked up from the she-elf's face.
"She may be beautiful yes… But you can never trust a dark elf…"
Jacque pursed his lips and looked back down at the woman, "When do you think she'll be strong enough to travel on horseback?"
The knight finished his apple and threw the core in front of his steed; the horse eyed the fruit scrap with benign indifference and snorted.
"I'll give her another hour or two and then we ought to continue onwards."
The squire nodded and looked back down at the sleeping she-elf. Shivering and jerking around in her sleep made the blanket move and Jacques got a clear and bare view of her breasts again. His face grew hot and red and he tentatively reached to pull the woolen sheet back over to cover her indecency.
Sir Jean nodded approvingly, "Check her clothes."
Jacque moved to the side and reached for the drying garments laid on a nearby shrub's branches. Touching the material of her blouse and trousers Jacque cringed at the dampness.
"Still wet Sir Jean."
The knight nodded.
"Clean the plates and pan and put them away. I don't want to spend any more time here than necessary."
…
When her clothes were dry Sir Jean agreed that they ought to dress the elf.
Ordering the squire to turn around once more the knight went about untying her bonds and speedily re-clothing her while she slept. He left her legs untied, but as soon as her blouse was back, over her chest, and covering her breasts from view he re-wrapped her wrists.
"What do you think her name is?" Jacque asked as he doused their fire.
Sir Jean looked at her emotionless face, "I think she'd said it… but I'm not sure."
The squire nodded as he threw their packs back over their horse's flanks. With a chuckle Sir Jean remarked, "She's far too pale for this country."
Then he laughed dryly, "She'd burn to death before we ever reached Qaryat Aljawla. Jacque? My boy, pull the white cloak from my satchel."
The squire nodded and searched his master's bag for the riding hood. While Sir Jean watched on, the she-elf stirred and began to come to.
When Sir Jean glanced back down, he saw the bright and lively eyes of the she-elf quietly staring back up at him, in surprise he jumped and swore, "By the Lady's tits!"
Pushing himself backwards in surprise Jacque first looked on in confusion but eventually realised what had happened and sniggered at his master. The she-elf began quietly speaking and stared between the boy and the man.
Raising a brow Jacque asked inquisitively, "What'd she say?"
Brushing his surcoat, Sir Jean cleared his throat and embarrassingly walked towards his horse. Then he shook his head and coughed, "If my elven is correct… it's not a thing to translate for a young boy's ears."
Jacque smiled and looked away from his master and back towards the sitting dark-elf. Now that she'd been fed and somewhat rested her lively face and natural movements made her even more beautiful to the youth.
He walked towards her and she sneered and tried moving away from the Human as he came 'too close' for her liking.
The boy smiled and she tried avoiding his gaze, moving her head to the side and tilting her shoulders. Pointing to his chest the squire clearly spoke, "I saved you."
The knight tightened the bags on his horse and called, "She probably doesn't speak our tongue Jacque. You're wasting your breath."
The squire's face dropped in disappointment and he tried again. Pointing to his chest he declared his name, "Jacque."
Pointing to the knight he spoke again, "Sir Jean."
Then he pointed at the elf. She twitched and nodded. She understood and quietly spoke.
"Raveres…"
Jacque nodded and repeated the name, "Raveres?"
She nodded once. He pointed at himself while smiling. She visibly cringed but she complied, "Jacque…"
The boy laughed and smiled. "Yes! Correct! That's me."
He pointed to Sir Jean and she repeated, "Jean…"
The knight looked up and furrowed his brow. He spoke in elvish and Jacque furrowed his brow. Looking back at the she-elf she pursed her lips and nodded. Then her demeanour changed, she spoke but her words sounded ugly and angry…
The squire looked on as the two adults began having a conversation in a foreign tongue.
…
"Am I your prisoner?" Raveres eventually asked.
The knight seemed to understand her far better than he was letting on, a ruse, or play on his part surely! Then in awfully accented Asurian Sir Jean respond, and Raveres had to strain to try and discern his words.
"Very little maybe you."
She growled, 'What the hell does that even mean!?'
Then Raveres snapped, "Give me a straight answer you fool! Before I strangle the boy with these bonds!"
As soon as the words parted from her lips, she felt a surge of weakness and her eye lids fluttered as she slackened. The knight smirked, "If you could, you would. But I think ye too weak from dying."
Raveres took a breath and shuddered as the knight asked a question;
"Can you even stand on yourself?"
Though broken like the speech of a new slave Raveres knew what the Human was saying, and she knew full well that she couldn't stand on her own. Even as she sat against the palm tree behind her, her legs and body ached from her swim.
With a petulant snort, Raveres looked from the knight and saw that the squire was still staring at her. It was unnerving and she was irritated at the sight of the boy's gaze but there was nothing she could do… She was not only a prisoner, but her body remained exhausted.
She locked eyes with the youth and he smiled at her earnestly. She shuddered and looked away awkwardly,
"T-tell him to cease looking at me so!"
The knight chuckled, "The boy saved you, pulled from the waters, and kissed life back into you."
Raveres looked from the man to the boy and blinked, 'What do I do now?'
Coincidentally the knight offered a suggestion, "Maybe you ought to thank boy?"
Raveres took a breath and reluctantly nodded. The words stuck in her throat and she eventually, begrudgingly spoke; "Thank you."
The knight translated and the squire reached his hands forwards to touch Raveres'. Her eyes widened at the contact and she raised her lip in confusion.
"L-let go."
She pulled her hands away and kicked herself backwards as her voice cracked, "D-don't touch me! Do-don't come near me!"
The squire's face paled and he shot back from Raveres. Sir Jean immediately came behind and placed a hand to the boy's shoulder. Then the knight stooped and spoke quietly to Jacque. Standing the squire turned and left the small clearing to tend to his horse.
It was all Raveres could do to bring her legs to her chest, but she remained like that for several minutes. Her emotions were uneven, wild, and her mind ached as she tried to remain calm. She struggled, weakly, against her bonds and her breathing began to grow more erratic.
"I am no slave… I will not be a slave…"
Her fear began to overwhelm her as she tried to get her hands out from the cord wrapped around them. Then the elder knight took a few steps closer and spoke more clearly as his tone became calmer.
Holding out his hand he cooed, "No harm is coming to you…"
Raveres looked from her wrists and swallowed tensely as she stared at the grizzled knight. He smiled earnestly and extended his hand towards hers. She was shuddering and her breathing showed no signs of slowing.
"It is true; my squire saved you from the waves."
Raveres clenched her teeth and remained silent as the knight placed his large, rough, and scarred hand over both of hers.
"He then saved you from my wrath when I saw what you were."
She raised an eyebrow as he asked knowingly, "You are a daughter of Naggarond yes? A foul member of the self-styled Druchii?"
The knight's skin was warm against hers and she remained still for lack of a weapon, and the weakness crippling her body. Slowly Raveres nodded. Then Sir Jean looked over his shoulder to make sure that his charge was away, out of earshot, and doing as he had bid him.
The knight cleared his throat and spoke in an accent eerily close to that of Druhir, "It is against our laws to keep a slave… Nor would I ever chain someone into being one."
Raveres relaxed ever so slightly.
"But know this dark-elf; these bonds will remain until I have decided what best to do with you."
He narrowed his eyes at her and nodded, "Understood?"
Raveres slowly nodded.
The knight smirked, "Use your voice, I know you have one."
Raveres growled, "I understand…"
Sir Jean nodded, "Good. And know this; I am far more resilient and worldly than my boy."
She looked past the knight's shoulder and saw a flash of the squire as he moved between the two horses.
"I know the magics that your kind is able to weave. If you have ensnared him, or poisoned his mind I will do what I was going to on the beach: and I will run my sword through your heart without hesitation."
Raveres took a sharp breath and looked at the knight's eyes. He raised his brow, wordlessly asking if she understood. Blinking weakly and nodding, Raveres repeated, "I understand…"
The knight tapped her hands with his and relaxed somewhat, "Can you stand my lady?"
The shift in tone from threat to courtesy was strange and Raveres looked at the knight uneasily. Moving his hands to the sides of her arms he indicated he was willing to aid her to her feet. Taking a breath, Raveres gave the attempt a genuine effort and with the knights help she rose to a stand, but her head became dizzy at the sudden change in altitude.
"There, there… hold it."
She steadied and Sir Jean helped her walk a few feet forwards onto the warm sand surrounding the extinguished fire pit.
"Too much time at sea huh? Forgot how to walk did ye?"
The knight laughed and said the same thing in Bretonnian to his squire; the boy chuckled and watched while holding his masters' white riding cloak. Raveres' stride was weak and she was depending on the knight far more than she would have liked to admit.
Looking down at her pale shoeless feet she noticed that her boots had been stolen away. The knight, Jean, indicated the bare feet as well,
"When you came ashore you had only the one boot, the other must have fallen off in your swimming."
Raveres growled in displeasure, 'Those were sent away for and made by the best cobbler in Karond Kar…'
Tentatively letting go of her shoulders Sir Jean allowed her to stand on her own.
'Those damn shoes probably cost more than this hedge-knight's horse!'
"I may lend you a pair if you would wish? Though they are worn anything is better than burning your feet on the sands."
Raveres looked up with an expression of bewilderment, "What? How can one burn their feet on sand?"
The knight chuckled, "On some days here it doesn't take long for the sun to heat the sand to the same temperature required to make glass… You run barefoot out there,"
He pointed through the palms towards the rolling hills of sand and rock.
"You can cook the flesh off your toes."
Raveres involuntarily shivered.
Speaking to his squire the boy handed the knight the white riding cloak and turned to rifle through a pack on the knight's horse. After a short search Jacque presented a pair of large, old, boots and tentatively held them towards Raveres.
Sir Jean raised his brow, "He fears you… though a saviour ought not to fear the one who owes him their life."
Raveres looked at the knight tensely. She felt awkward and didn't know what to say. It was not often that a Druchii owed a non-Druchii a life-debt. She took the boots from the squire and nodded to the boy appreciatively. He smiled and relaxed slightly.
"I…"
The knight and squire looked at her expectantly. The words stopped in Raveres throat and she felt disgusting as she tried to speak,
"T-thank you…"
The knight bowed his head and the squire followed suit. Then Jacque descended to help direct Raveres' feet into the light brown shoes. At the same time Sir Jean offered her the white riding cloak,
"This will protect your fair skin from the sun."
Looking at the bundle Raveres humbly accepted the gift as the squire tapped her other leg, indicating she was to raise her left foot. Wiping the sand from her toes and the underside of her feet, Raveres nodded as she began donning the cloak.
…
Before they set out to continue on their journey Raveres persuaded Sir Jean to allow her to see the beach and the wreckage of her ship. Jacque held the reins of the horses and the knight pointed along the coast where he and his squire had seen her body. With the hood of the white cloak covering her head Raveres wiped her already perspiring brow.
Sir Jean grunted, "We must leave the dead now… I'm sure the smoke will bring thieves and scavengers."
Raveres nodded. The knight pursed his lips and seemed sullen, "I'm sorry for your comrades. No one should be left like this, but we must depart."
Raveres turned away and the three began walking, "They fought well…"
Sir Jean nodded. Then her lip sneered and she spat to her side as she continued lowly, "But not well enough…"
Ignoring her callousness, Sir Jean spoke;
"You shall ride with Jacque, I'd gladly have you on my horse but Michelle is not as strong as she used to be and I fear riding her with just my weight alone."
Raveres nodded and looked at the second horse. It was visibly younger and more robust than the knight's and the squire made a whistling sound for the horse to lower its front legs and descend so he could more easily mount. The knight stepped into his horse's stirrup and sat atop his tired steed in a skillful flurry.
Walking towards the squire Raveres exhaled somewhat nervously. It'd been a while since she'd ridden a horse, and she'd never been on one with two passengers. Jacque nervously averted his eyes and waited as Raveres stepped forwards. Then he popped his foot out of the left side stirrup and allowed Raveres to make use of it as a foundation.
Putting her ill-fitting boot into the small iron hoop she pushed off while trying to bring her leg over the horse's back. The horse, unhappy with the additional weight stood back up and Raveres nervously threw herself into the saddle and pressed herself into Jacque.
The squire's face became red and he quickly pushed his foot back into the stirrup before pulling his reins and steering the horse to the right. The knight took lead and quietly the two horses began trotting away from the coastline as Sir Jean and the Squire Jacque exchanged words.
Raveres was quite uncomfortable and didn't have the energy to fight the slope of the saddle anymore. So, when she finally gave in her body slid so that it was completely pressing up against the young squire all the way to the back of his neck.
He kept a dirty little smile across his lips as he felt the push of her chest against him with each breath she took. Clutching the reins as more of a formality than anything Jacque's horse followed Sir Jean's as had become their habit.
"So…" Jacque asked tentatively, "Lady Raveres?"
She grunted at the sound of her name as she looked around the alien landscape.
"Sir Jean, she understands nothing of our tongue?"
The knight nodded, "Aye… and I'd wager she doesn't wish to hear you speak incessantly. Such a thing would remind her of her bondage."
The squire's spirit fell, "Oh… of course…"
Raveres rested her bound wrists to the squires' shoulder and watched with a sigh as they passed hills of rock, patches of sandy grass and the occasional palm tree. Sir Jean spoke to her in the elven tongue and Jacque smirked as she responded.
The movement of her chest against his back and the sound of her voice were strangely powerful to the youth, and he perversely enjoyed the feeling of her movements and the vibration of her language against him.
…
"What business brought you to these shores?" Sir Jean asked.
"My company was one with mercantile intent…"
"Ah, trade? I suppose there is honour in that."
Raveres smirked, 'What would a mayfly know of honour…'
Changing the subject bizarrely the knight asked her a strange question, "Does the noble lady sing?"
Raveres looked from their side and furrowed her brow, "What?"
The knight smiled and turned around, "Do you know any songs?"
Before she could respond he continued, "Riding like this is frightfully boring without something to pass the time! So Jacque and I often share songs," he laughed, "It has earned us many a pleasant companion and safe travels."
Raveres looked away, "I have slaves and servants to sing for me if I wish."
Sir Jean pursed his lips, disappointed, "Alas, we've no musical slaves out here milady. You will have to make do with Jacque and myself."
Breaking into an opening note the elder knight began singing loudly in his tongue as Jacque erupted in accompanying vocals. The sudden noise shocked Raveres and she looked down at the boy in front of her apprehensively.
'Oh Khaine. Gods, I wish they had of let me drown…'
…
Raveres listened wearily as the two Humans performed their duet. And when their first song had finished the squire began a solo. Though it was nothing like she'd heard before Raveres had to admit that it sounded… pleasant.
The youth's voice seemed melancholic as he recited the lyrics and his tone flowed lyrically as he sang. Raveres didn't know what it was he was saying but she could feel the emotion in his words. It was strange, and the feeling of his back against her chest made the vibrations of his singing pass into her body.
As if the music were magic her heart tightened and she listened along. Just as she was about to admit to herself that she liked it, the boy finished and the song ended.
She furrowed her brow and tapped her wrists against the squire's shoulder impatiently, asking him almost innocently, "Again. Sing, sing that again."
Sir Jean translated and Jacque looked up at his passenger before he nodded, though his face quickly became red and darted away from the Druchii's eyes. He cleared his throat and began started the song again.
Raveres felt strangely in her chest and she lowered her head onto the squire's right shoulder. At the surprising gesture, he faltered and miss-sung as he nervously tried to keep to the beat in his head. The knight turned and pursed his lips stoically before looking forwards.
Raveres let out a heavy breath and her pride loosened, she'd been shamed, beaten, and defeated. She'd endured far too much indignity to muster care for the moment. She pressed herself into the squire and turned to bury her nose into the material of his tabard, he faltered again but continued his song.
Raveres seemed unbothered by his pauses and all but clung to the short Human. Her thoughts were loudly building but as she focused on the young Human's singing, she felt a divine relief wash over her mind.
She began humming along to his words and when he finished, she tapped his shoulder and repeated; "Again."
He coughed clearing his throat and started the song a third time and Raveres hummed along with him from the beginning. Sir Jean listened and furrowed his brow as he directed his horse along the path.
When the boy finished Raveres shut her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder again. They traveled in silence for a few minutes before the knight began singing, yet there was something familiar in his words.
Raveres quickly realised he was singing in Asurian. It wasn't a song she knew, but the lyrics were easy enough to understand…
The singer revealed he was a traveler, and that he had lost something. He longed to find it again because it was gift for his beloved, and he revealed that his song was his letter to her and he hoped she could forgive him for his absence. The chorus was that he intended to return to her and he lived only till she held him again.
Raveres appreciated the song, but more than that she felt the sentiment from the knight very strongly. It was obvious to her that he sang it and knew it for some purpose…
When the knight finished the young squire clapped applause and the knight smiled as he bowed in his saddle. They then traveled in quiet for a while; occasionally the Bretons would talk to one another but for the most part they remained silent.
Raveres often contemplated where it was they were going, and she shook her head as she thought about how far they probably were from where Captain Dorath and she had planned to land and establish their base-camp.
Thinking about the late captain she recalled the sight of his head and she felt the pain of failure once again stab in her heart…
'Annio-Luis Philipe De Bilbali…'
She thought. 'I will commit his stupid name to my immortal memory and I will kill him.'
His voice came through her mind as she pictured his sarcastic face, 'Where there's life, there's hope.'
Smirking Raveres stifled a growl in her throat.
…