Marinette pulled her cloak closer around her as she slipped through the forest, flinching at the noises that surrounded her. She didn't often go this deep into the forest. It had always been dangerous, a home for brigands and wild beasts, but ever since the war between her own Paree and its northern neighbor of Franeaux began some years ago, it had become more dangerous than ever. With so many fighting men diverted to the front lines, the wolves and other predators of the forest hadn't been culled in many years, and were growing swiftly more numerous. There were more deserters than ever, and they were far more dangerous.
And then there were the Miraculous, the mysterious band of outlaws who had made the war so much more complicated, striking against targets on both sides of the line in accordance with criteria only they understood. Marinette wasn't quite sure how she felt about those. The rumors quietly circulating claimed that they weren't common outlaws, that they focused their attacks against those in either kingdom that had proved particularly cruel, those who used the power of noble rank or soldier's training to rob and despoil the innocent. Whispered stories suggested that those who were merely trying to survive were mostly safe from the predations of the Miraculous. Still, Marinette wasn't about to take those rumors at face value. She knew how tempting it was to believe in heroes, to believe that these outlaws would abide by the codes of honor the actual nobility had so conspicuously failed to uphold. She also knew that just because someone claimed a code that didn't mean they lived up to it.
Ahead of her, Marinette spotted an open patch, a line of light through the trees. Soon, she reached the edge of a narrow creek. The ground fell away in front of her, and looking down she could see the waters of the creek flashing with sunlight. Along both banks, reeds and other plants sprouted in patches between the tumbled rocks, including…
There it is!
Marinette scrambled down the bank and quickly picked her way across the rocks to the patch of reeds sprouting around the base of a rock. She drew a belt knife and began to cut the knobweed reeds away, carefully tucking them into a pouch at her belt.
This was why she'd risked coming this deep into the forest. Knobweed sap was a powerful antiseptic, and with more wounded coming back from the front lines every day and most of the healers taken to the wars, Marinette and her mother needed as much of the sap as they could get. But, unlike many of the herbs whose use Sabine had been teaching Marinette, knobweed couldn't be grown in a garden. It could only be harvested here, deep in the forest.
There was a sudden crash from further up the bank, and Marinette spun. Standing at the top of the hill was a man with a scruffy beard, clad in padded leather armor. Marinette took the man in at a glance, eyes widening in horror. The man's garb was in the black-trimmed yellow of her own Paree, but over the heart, where the bee crest of Paree should have been, there was only a line of crude stitching like a scar. This was a deserter.
Marinette spun on her heel and bolted, splashing across the stream and scrambling up the bank on the far side of the creek. Behind her, she heard the clatter of stones shifting as the deserter scrambled down the bank and across the creek in her wake. She continued to flee blindly, smashing through branches and dodging around trees, trying only to stay ahead of her pursuer.
And then she dashed into an open clearing, and skidded to a halt in horror. There were at least half a dozen men in padded leather armor lounging around the clearing. Most wore the black-trimmed yellow of Paree, but two wore the copper-edged purple of Franeaux and all had the crude, scar-like stitching where their respective countries' crest should have been.
Marinette tried to turn, but the first man was already standing right behind her. "Gotcha, girlie," he said with a grin.
"Now, now, Phillip," a voice with a slight Franeaux said from behind Marinette. "We wouldn't want to give the girl the wrong idea."
Marinette slowly turned to see a dark-skinned man in Franeaux copper-and-purple climb out of a tent of the far side of the camp and stride across the clearing towards her. Unlike the rest of the deserters, he wore gleaming chainmail and a sword at his hip, and the crest on his tabard was intact, showing the sign of a black cats-paw on a green field.
Marinette stared at that crest in shock. Wasn't the Miraculous Cat Noir's crest a pawprint? I thought Luka's tale had it as a green pawprint on black, but maybe he got it reversed. It's not like he actually knows Cat Noir, after all.
"Sir Theo Barbot, at your service," he said. "Now, if you'll kindly put down that knife and come this way, I promise I'll be gentle." He gestured with one hand towards one of the tents, one that seemed to be a little larger and better-maintained than the others, even as he gave her a subtle leer.
For just a moment, fear paralyzed Marinette as Theo drew closer to her. In a few moments, her fates had been reduced to two, both equally horrible. Then, as Theo extended his hand towards her, she made up her mind and lunged forwards, trying to plunge the belt knife she was still holding into Theo's eye.
But as fast as she moved, Theo was faster. He twisted out of the way of her stab, his hand closing around her wrist like a vise. He squeezed her wrist, forcing her to drop the dagger and causing her to yelp in pain.
Theo's mask of courtesy fell away, and she saw naked rage in his eyes. "Well," he said, "If you want to do this the hard way, then so be it. Phillip, Louis, help me strip her. I'll have her in front of you all, and you can have your turns once I'm done."
Someone, presumably the one Theo had called Phillip, grabbed Marinette from behind, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back. Marinette screamed and thrashed, trying to tear free of the soldier's grip to no avail. Theo approached, knotting his hands in the bodice of Marinette's dress…
Suddenly, multiple deserters shouted "Look out!" almost at once. Theo released Marinette's dress, hand flying to the hilt of his sword, and then there was a gurgling scream practically in Marinette's ear and Phillip released her hands. Marinette promptly flung herself sideways, tumbling to the ground and rolling back over to see a man now standing right behind her previous location, where the deserter had been a moment earlier.
He was clad from the neck down in a tight suit of black leather, broken only by a green pawprint design over his heart. Brilliant green eyes shown from behind a black mask, and leather cat ears seemed to sprout from messy blonde hair. In his hand was a long and slender sword, blade red with blood, and Phillip the deserter lay at his feet with a massive bloodstain spreading from his chest.
"Let the girl go, Barbot," the man said.
"Cat Noir," Theo replied, his own sword in his hand. "This time you've picked a fight even you can't win. And when I drag your bloody corpse back to King Agreste, that might actually be enough to get me back my lands and title. So thank you for coming here today."
With that, everyone seemed to move at once. Marinette scrambled backwards on hands and knees as Cat Noir lunged forward towards Theo, who fell back before him. Marinette lost track of the combat for a moment as Cat Noir and Theo Barbot passed behind a tent. There was the clash of metal on metal, then a thud sounded even as Marinette scrambled to her feet. A moment later, she peeked around the edge of the tent. Cat Noir was standing more or less in the middle of the camp, facing Theo. Another of the deserters lay at his feet, blood gushing from a slit throat. The remainder of the deserters hung back, none apparently wanting to get within sword's reach of the leader of the Miraculous.
After a moment's pause, Theo took a step forward, striking at Cat Noir, but the black-clad figure side-stepped the stroke and retaliated. Theo caught the blow on his mailed forearm, but Cat Noir's black sword cut through the chain-mail, drawing blood. Marinette ducked back behind the tent, turning to see… yes, her belt knife was still lying on the ground, just visible from this angle. She took a moment's breath, then dashed out from behind the tent, lunging for the dagger.
But before she could reach it, something slammed into her chest, sending her crashing to the ground with the breath driven from her lungs. She rolled over to see one of the deserters standing over her, a heavy cudgel in his hands.
"Oh no you don't," he said. Behind him, she could see that one of the common deserters had apparently stumbled into Barbot's path, with Cat Noir having taken advantage of their unbalance to drive his sword into the commoner's chest. But at the same moment yet another deserter attacked Cat Noir from behind, driving his spear at the Miraculous's back. The spear connected, but it didn't seem to penetrate the black leather of Cat Noir's suit. Cat Noir twisted away from the strike, diving out of the ring of enemies and somehow managing to slash the leg of one of the deserter spearmen as he dived past him.
"Alright, little girl," the deserter standing over Marinette said, "Now what am I going to do with you? You're a feisty one and no mistake, but I don't want to waste a prime piece of skirt if I can help it."
Marinette wheezed, trying to drag breath back into her lungs.
"All right," the deserter said, "Off with the belt."
"Wha…" Marinette gasped, still struggling to breathe.
"I said off with it!" the deserter bellowed, hefting his cudgel.
Marinette flinched back, her hands falling to her belt buckle. She glanced down her body, then up to the deserter looming over her, then inhaled sharply and kicked up between the deserter's legs. Her foot connected and the deserter let out a surprisingly high-pitched screech. He struck at her with his cudgel, but she managed to roll to the side, dodging the blow, and then rolled back to her feet. The deserter with the cudgel glared at her, but his legs were shaking and he was clearly having trouble holding his cudgel. Behind him, Cat Noir seemed to have cut down the last of the common deserters, but was now bleeding from a slash across his forehead and was locked in a duel with Theo. Their swords flashed back and forth, the two seeming evenly matched for the moment.
Marinette glanced around. Where was her knife? She spotted it and dived on top of it, rolling over to come up with the blade in her hand. As she sprang back to her feet, what she saw filled her with horror. Theo had managed to maneuver Cat Noir until his back was facing the deserter with the club, who was sneaking up behind him.
"Look out!" Marinette shouted, breaking into a run towards them. But even as she shouted, two other parties moved. Cat Noir's sword lashed out, and Theo brought up his own blade to block. Cat Noir's sword struck against Theo's... and cut though it, Barbot's blade snapping in half and Cat Noir's blow continuing on to slice Barbot's head cleanly from his shoulders. But even as the corpse of the Franeux knight slumped to the ground, the final deserter brought his cudgel down on Cat Noir's head, sending the Miraculous limply to the ground.
Marinette felt a sudden surge of fury, and redoubled the speed of her charge. Before the final deserter could turn to confront her, she leapt up onto his back, wrapping her legs and her free hand around him. He staggered forward, and before he could recover his balance she slashed her belt knife across his throat. Hot blood gushed out, drenching both her arms, and the burly man crashed to the ground beneath her.
Marinette pulled her arm out from under the corpse, and then stared down at the liquid red blod covering her hands and drenching her sleeves. This was far from the first time she'd had blood on her hands, even human blood. Over the past several years, she'd tended dozens of wounds, and you couldn't do that without getting your hands dirty. But this was different. This time… This time she didn't just have literal blood on her hands, she had figuratively bloodied her hands. She had killed another human being, not by accident but because she had decided he should die.
The hot, metallic smell of the blood seemed to force its way into her nostrils, and Marinette bent over and vomited again and again, until her stomach was empty of everything but bile and the nauseating consciousness of the life she had taken. Eventually, she managed to raise her head enough to see Cat Noir's body where he lay near her. From this close, she could see he was sporting half a dozen wounds, cuts and gashes where those spears and Barbot's sword had pierced his leathers and the black color had hidden the bloodstains.
Suddenly, she noticed Cat Noir's leather chest slowly rising and falling. He was still alive. Wounded, probably dying, but maybe not beyond saving. Shock ran through her like lightning, clearing her thoughts and granting her renewed focus.
Ok, now where would I find some water? she thought. Before I can bind those wounds, I've got to clean them.
And wash off my hands.