Chapter Six

The aftermath of the aftermath

Walter got up on his elbows, wincing as his muscles locked up again. Sierra knelt down

and put a hand on his shoulder, which the stubborn warrior shrugged off with a growl.

"Pathetic," he admonished, "To have to be saved, and by you people." With effort, he managed to get a leg under him and rise to a kneel, "I failed to protect you three. Bring me a crutch, will you?"

Sierra placed the sword in his hands, "C'mon now, it ain't no big deal." She cajoled, "Y' actually did pretty good, c'nsidering ya got hurt n' all b'fore."

To that the warrior growled, "Pretty good does not excuse the fact that I failed, and because of that, you and the girl traveling with Tempuer were forced to take action."

Sierra frowned, "Wha', were ya worried us lil' ladies couldn't look after ourselves?"

Walter grunted, rising unsteadily to his feet and leaning with his full weight on the sword. "It's not that. Women should be kept out of the fighting as much as possible. If I can't be trusted to keep you safe, then it is my folly as a man." He slowly hobbled for the battlefield, scanning around for his dropped sword.

Sierra snorted, "'Zat so?" she shook her head, more annoyed inside than she let on, and strode to where the others were gathered. The newcomer was talking with Sylva, who seemed to be holding herself in check. Benton was up and moving, checking the houses despite being told not to. Nora stayed with Sylva, but looked as though she wanted to join Walter more. Bartholomew, surprisingly, had managed to sleep through that whole affair and still snored lightly.

"What's the story, ya'all?" she asked Sylva and the newcomer, then turned to the latter, "We never got around t' thankin' you, by the way, Mr.…"

The stranger turned to Sierra and sketched a bow, coming up in a fluid motion to take her hand. "My lady, I am known to friend and foe alike as Eisner." He gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand, "And for presenting before my eyes such a rare beauty as yours, it is I who should be thanking both you and whatever act of fate brought us here."

Sierra chuckled, "My, don't you know yer way 'round a phrase."

Sylva frowned, "Don't humor him, Sierra," she said venomously, "He's an incorrigible lecher."

Eisner put on an elaborate display of shock, "Why, madam!" he gasped, "You wound me, honestly you do. To think you could honestly grant me such a despised title, and with little introduction, and after I had taken the risk to save you. Have you no morals, no gratitude?"

Sylva flared, "You're one to talk of morals! Taking advantage of my fear like that! Asking…"

Benton was at Sylva's side at that moment, "What's going on here?" He turned to Eisner, "What's this about taking advantage…?"

Eisner held his hands up resignedly, "I honestly have no idea what she's talking about. I certainly didn't say I wanted to take advantage of anyone."

Sylva bristled, "You lying bastard! Are you going to deny that you said…?"

"Said what?" Eisner leered, "My memory must have faded after that little fireball to the chest earlier. I don't recall ever saying anything to the effect of what you must think I asked of you."

Benton squared his shoulders, "All right, stop messing around with Sylva."

Eisner laughed, "Right, I'm messing around with her! What's it to you anyway? Are you her brother?"

"I'm not," Benton replied evenly.

"I see. So you're her cousin?"

"No."

"Asked to look after her by someone?"

"No." Benton was beginning to lose patience.

Eisner smirked. "Then… you must be…her boyfriend?"

Benton and Sylva both froze and flushed. Eisner began to laugh. "My first guess, actually," Eisner drawled, "Ah, what wonders springtime does to the unwary child's heart."

Benton stammered, "Sh…she's not…I mean, we… we aren't…"

Sylva had equal luck contributing, "I am not…I…he…"

Sierra sighed, "All right, kids," she said, moving to usher Benton away, "This young man here needs t' get some salves on 'im 'fore he keels ov'r. Now, you wait 'ere, n' I'm gonna fetch th' other nimrod." She turned to Nora, "Hon, maybe you could lend a hand?"

Sierra led Benton and Nora away, leaving Eisner and Sylva alone. Eisner made as if to say something, but Sylva made a rude noise and turned away. She made her way past a fallen body (repressing a shudder all the while) and knelt down by Bartholomew.

Eisner followed but did not kneel, "What's up with him?" he asked, pointing to the shaman, "He doesn't have a scratch on him."

"Stop following me!" Sylva growled through gritted teeth.

Eisner strode around to kneel at Bartholomew's other side, looking down at him as he spoke. "I lead, ma'am, not follow. You just happened to approach something of interest to me." He frowned, "Perhaps you could at least indulge my curiosity. I asked why this man is out of action."

Sylva's face softened, but only slightly, "He's not hurt," she explained, "Sierra said he falls asleep like this every now and then."

"Is that so?" A smile flashed across Eisner's face, "Well, we certainly can't have that, especially since he could be helpful right about now." He slowly raised his hand, and then suddenly brought it down to Bartholomew's face, pinching his pointer and middle fingers over the shaman's nose.

"Now cut that out!" Sylva protested.

Bartholomew started, paused, and then thrashed violently for his nose's freedom. He wrenched his nose out of Eisner's vice grip, and sat bolt upright. "Agh," the shaman blankly gazed at his surroundings, then finally regarded Eisner with a warm smile. "Good morning," he began amiably, "While I don't appreciate your brutish methods, I do have to thank you for waking me. Now, perhaps you could explain to me, if it's not too much trouble, why it is that the square seems to be more bedraggled than before I slept."

Eisner chuckled, "And here I thought no one would ask." He smoothly brought his hand to a hidden pocket on his tunic and showed to the two of them a small brown object between his first two fingers.

"Ant mines," he explained, "Nasty little buggers. They don't pack the same punch as their full-sized partners, but scatter enough of them around and your enemies are sure to get more than their pride hurt."

Bartholomew regarded the strange object incredulously, "They can fit magic power into something so small? That is unbelievable."

Eisner replaced the mine on his person, "Yeah, it's incredible how much intuition our scholars can expend finding more effective ways to kill one another, isn't it?"

Sylva scowled, "That's not a very nice thing to say."

Eisner rose to his feet, suddenly very grave, "I leave my romantic notions for my lovelies, love. No one gets anywhere being an optimist."

Bartholomew pulled himself up as well, offering Sylva his hand, "Sage advice, my friend, sage," he said to Eisner, smiling to Sylva, "What fortune to meet such a philosophical person here today, eh?"

Sylva took the hand offered to her, flashing an angry look Eisner's way. Eisner smirked at his little private victory.

The three made their way to the others. Both Benton and Walter sat quietly, side by side and bare-chested, while Sierra and Nora tended to them. Sierra had just finished dressing Benton, who was covered in bruises, while Nora applied ointment to Walter's singed back.

"Well," Sierra said as she stood back from her work, "Ya'al're lucky there weren't that many bad cuts, r' we'd've not had much time to deal with 'em 'fore they festered ." She helped Benton up, "Now you don' do nothin' stupid while you got that on, ya hear?"

Benton stretched, testing the anointed bandages, and then silently donned his old tunic. "I'm going…" he said at length, "to look for survivors."

Sylva piped up, "I'll go with you." Benton said nothing, just nodded, and together they walked.

Walter was about to protest, but Sierra stopped him. "Let 'em go, Mister Man," she admonished.

The warrior growled, "It's a pointless journey. If anyone had survived…"

"They'd've escaped when they got the chance, I know hon," Sierra finished, "But think about it. They coulda be the last ones here. There coulda been more. Either way, hon, they gotta find out fer themselves."

"Too true, Sierra," Bartholomew agreed, "Even if no one is left but them, which seems unlikely indeed, simply telling them they're alone won't do them any good."

Eisner sighed, "So, worst case scenario, those kids get their romantic sides forcibly taken from them. Man, this is shaping up to be a wonderful day."