Chapter 8
A fresh dusting of snow had settled on the ground, covering up the footprints that the three teens had made on their walk through the town. It was later in the afternoon, but the gray cloud-covered sky made it appear darker than it actually was. Cain had brushed some snow off of a stone wall and hopped up to sit on it; like a gentleman, he also brushed off a spot for Matthew. At Abel, he chucked a handful of snow; the green-haired teen returned the favor, and now both of them had white flakes all in their hair.
A fresh dusting of snow had settled on the ground, covering up the footprints that the three teens had made on their walk through the town. It was later in the afternoon, but the gray cloud-covered sky made it appear darker than it actually was. Cain had brushed some snow off of a stone wall and hopped up to sit on it; like a gentleman, he also brushed off a spot for Matthew. At Abel, he chucked a handful of snow; the green-haired teen returned the favor, and now both of them had white flakes all in their hair. Cain didn't mind sitting in between Matthew and Abel; he was a bit chilly, what with Matthew borrowing his favorite coat again . It was long past the bustling time of the market, and now there was barely a soul outside. "What I wouldn't give for a hot cup of cocoa..." Cain rubbed his hands together and breathed on them; his warm breath made a cloud of steam as it left his lips.
"What's the matter? Got a chill?" Abel teased; his cheeks were red too, but the green-haired teen enjoyed being out in the cold. Well, there was also the fact that he had on a fluffy, cozy scarf.
Matthew also seemed pretty cozy; buried under his lover's large coat, the hood up and almost covering his face. He snickered lightly at how so obviously Cain was cold; no matter what the other said, Matthew had offered to give it back to him before they went out earlier that day. Nevertheless, he greatly enjoyed their time spent together; it felt nice to hang around Cain and his friend. It was tragic Oujay was top busy to join them. He leaned forward on the stone wall. "You know, Cain, we can always head back if you're too cold." It was a mixture of both teasing and concern.
"Psh," Cain scoffed as he rolled his eyes, though he was shivering slightly. "I'm fine ." He stuck out his tongue at both Matthew and Abel. He reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, then snagged on the back of Abel's scarf to pull it away from the other's neck where he then dumped the snow.
"Hey!" Abel tried not to squeal in surprise from the sudden coldness, but he jumped up off the wall and yanked his scarf off; the snow spilled out with it. "You asshole!" He whacked Cain with his scarf, and the redhead laughed. "Now we have to go back or I'll freeze to death, and then you'll be the one stuck carrying me." He made a face, but there was laughter in his bright eyes. He slung the scarf over his shoulder; it was a bit damp from the snow, and wouldn't help much back around his neck.
Matthew laughed out as he saw the two messing around in the snow. At least their friendship seemed to be strong. "Hm. I should have taken bets with everyone on which of you would get frozen first," he said lightly. He was cold as well, even while he was buried in the redhead's coat; he was very sensitive to the cold temperature, and he shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of Cain's coat. "Let's go before one of you gets buried in the snow. Roland knows I won't be digging you out."
"Ha! You'll be the one dragging both of us back," Cain teased Matthew; this earned him another whap from Abel's scarf. The green-haired teen had wrapped it partially around his neck- the part that wasn't damp from snow. Cain waved him off with a grin. They started to walk; Cain stayed next to Matthew, with Abel a bit behind them. "I'm ready to get back and sit in front of the fire."
"Definitely. That sounds- gaah!" Abel's agreement turned into a tight, choked noise; his hands flew up to grab at his scarf. He turned, thinking it had gotten caught on something; what he hadn't expected that 'something' to be was a hand . A tall, robust man had a fistful of Abel's scarf and had yanked on it, pulling him backwards. "Hey!" Abel tried to pull it away, but the man only seemed amused and tugged again, tightening it around Abel's neck.
The man- who had to at least be in his forties- wasn't alone; two others were with him. "You kiddies can enjoy that fire... right after you empty your pockets." He sneered, showing yellow teeth.
Matthew managed a small smile at Cain. "Nah. I'm not really a heavy lifting kinda guy," he replied back with an amused hum as they started to walk. For a moment, he thought nothing of Abel's short cry; perhaps the other had slipped on some ice or tripped over the snow. It wasn't until he heard a different voice that he stopped and turned slowly, only to see three older men behind them, one who held Abel by the scarf. If Matthew's blood wasn't frozen then it was now, and he could only gape at the three older men behind them.
"Hey, back off!" Cain, hotheaded as ever, closed the distance between himself and the three men to stand by Abel's side. None of them had brought weapons, but that didn't stop the redhead from being aggressive.
"You heard me, brat. Hand over every coin you've got and I'll consider not beating you within an inch of your life." The man was getting annoyed, and he yanked Abel closer. The green-haired teen was struggling viciously, but couldn't break free; he gasped as the scarf was yanked tighter around his neck, practically choking him.
Cain had a temper, but there were precious few things that made him angrier than someone who hurt his friends. "Let go!" He lashed out and struck the older man with a vicious punch straight to the jaw.
It was a split second decision for Matthew to make; three half-trained (himself probably being only quarter trained) knights who were unarmed against three burly, older men that had one of them held hostage. This was not a fight they would win, but knowing Cain, he'd try. As Cain threw the first punch, he decided on his answer. The three men were advancing. He quickly ducked out of the way of one of the men that reached for him, and, with all sense of his dignity being left behind, he turned tail. Like a filthy, filthy coward, he ran, leaving behind the one he loved most and his dear friend. He ran so fast his feet practically glided over the snow. Matthew ran and never, not once, looked back.
The man grunted as Cain punched him; in surprise, he loosened his hold, and Abel wrenched away. He didn't get far before the second man grabbed him and started to pull at his coat, practically ripping it off so he could dig through the pockets.
The first man still wanted money, but now, it was more than that- he wanted to teach these brats a lesson . "Why you-" He reached for Cain, but the redhead nimbly ducked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and he turned to look. Was that.. Matthew? Running ? Cain didn't even have time to fully understand what the other teen was doing; the man took advantage of his momentary lapse of attention and lashed out with a punch so hard it sent him sprawling to the ground in the snow. He didn't stay there long, and was immediately back on his feet ready to get back to it.
Abel wasn't entirely helpless, either; he was a knight in training as well, at the top of his own class. Still, a trainee with no weapon couldn't overpower a grown man in regards to brute strength, so he had to rely on his speed to duck and dodge. Just as he leapt to the side, the third man grabbed him, and he cried out- he hadn't seen Matthew run, but now realized they were outnumbered. While one man pinned his arms behind his back, another struck Abel harshly across the cheek; the green-haired teen grunted in pain as a bit of red liquid flew from his mouth, contrasting drastically with the pure white snow.
"Hey! Stop!" Cain's voice hitched as he saw Abel getting struck, and he lunged forward- only to be snatched back by the man who had threatened them first. He wrenched himself free, but again, was grabbed from the back; this time, the grip was stronger, and he couldn't pull away. The man yanked him back by the arm and spun him around, then jammed his knee into Cain's stomach; the redhead gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. It was now that the man took the opportunity to tear Cain's coat off of him too, tossing it to the side; he'd rummage through it for money later.
The cold air stung Cain's bare skin, but it didn't stop him from still trying to get to Abel. He jumped forward again, but still couldn't escape the man's grasp; the older man twisted his arm behind his back roughly, and Cain yelped in pain. He struggled and pulled, but he wasn't able to break free. He wasn't strong enough to break free. He wasn't strong enough to help Abel. He wasn't strong enough to help Marth. "Let go!" He yelled, twisting violently, but the man only laughed, and Cain felt growing panic and a surge of anger-and fear- every time he heard the raw thudding sound of a fist smacking against Abel.
Their quarrel was interrupted by the loud thudding of a group of horses quickly approaching; by the sound of it, there was at least a small group. At the head of the charge rode none other than Oswin; though not a paladin by nature, he was still adept at horse riding. Trusty silver lance by his side, he was a terrifying sight; it was a smart move for the offenders to take off at the sight of him. Oswin had come with two other knights, and, watching the three men take off, he only scoffed and ordered them to follow and arrest those men. He turned his horse to look at the two trainees on the ground. There was a number of lectures he could give for this: a knight had to always be vigilant, to always be on guard, to have a small weapon... but from the bruised and bloody faces of both teenagers, even he could tell they had learned their lesson. Hopping off his horse, he looked at them. "Come on, you two. We have to get you to a medic."
Even with the freezing cold beating against his skin, Cain felt a fresh shiver as heard the familiar sound of horse hooves stamping their way through the snow. The very moment he was released, he dashed over to Abel, who'd gotten quite the beating; his handsome face was bruised and bloodied, swollen from the hits. "Abel... Are you okay?" Cain knelt down to help the green-haired teen sit up. Abel slowly nodded; it hurt, but he'd be okay. He was relieved beyond measure that Oswin had appeared; being beaten to death in the snow wasn't his ideal way to go.
Seeing that Abel was alright, Cain's worry faded... and it turned into anger. Frustration. With himself, with those men, with Oswin, with Matthew... What had happened ? He could have handled it. If Oswin hadn't shown up, he could've broken free and helped Abel. He was sure of it. "Why did you come?" He snapped at Oswin unwisely, blinded by his frustration. "I was taking care of it! We were fine!"
Oswin had seen many trainees and had come from many battles in his day, so he understood Cain's frustration. One of the worst things was feeling helpless as you and a comrade were overwhelmed; it had happened to him a few times in his years. Nevertheless, he stood in his place. "Would you rather I have not come and let you both be pummeled to death?!" He boomed back strongly as he made his way over to Abel, who looked like he needed the most help. "You're lucky you had a friend who was in his senses enough to come for backup, or you'd both be dead out here! Now, you can come back with me, or wallow out here in the cold. Your choice."
Cain forced himself not recoil at Oswin's booming, intimidating voice. He didn't realize he was breathing so heavily until he caught sight of the puffs of steam coming from his mouth. He backed away from Abel, letting Oswin help him instead, and his gaze flickered to Matthew. Matthew. Matthew was the one who had gone to get Oswin- run away to go get Oswin. There was a multitude of emotions on his face; anger, betrayal, disgust... He looked away, not able to stomach it. "No one was going to die," he insisted in a voice that didn't quite sound like his own. "I could have handled it. I- I-" he stammered, and took a step backwards. He couldn't have done it. Abel could have gotten seriously hurt, and it would have been his fault- his fault, for not being skilled enough, not strong enough, to protect him. "Fine! Go back on your own!" Cain snapped, and turned on his heels. He didn't even stop to pick up his ripped jacket; he ran off, getting faster as he went, mostly because he didn't want anyone to stop him and see that a tear had started to spill over and run down his cheek.
Matthew, who was sitting on the back of Oswin's noble horse, caught sight of Cain's ugly glance at him, and he only lowered his head in shame. He already felt awful, like a dirty traitor for turning tail and running at the first sight of trouble, but it was all he could think to do. He'd have been a burden if he stayed. A part of him hoped Cain would at least be a little thankful when help arrived. When the other ran off, however, Matthew called his name, and started to move off the horse before Oswin stopped him.
"Let him go," Oswin said, his eyes full of a understanding and sadness as he watched the redhead take off. "He needs some time alone. For some people, it's hard to come to terms with knowing you're not invincible, and you can't prevent everything. He'll come back frozen half to death, but he'll come back."
Matthew could only hope he was right.