A/N: Sorry for the long wait. That's to Onyx and S for their help. Disclaimer in previous chapter.
The dull clank of a hammer on metal was the loudest sound in the cool night air. Celtos, stripped to the waist except for the bandages holding his broken ribs together, was busy replacing a steel shoe on his stallion's left front hoof, working by the light of a campfire. The other horses, tied to picket lines, were either resting or chewing wearily at the meager bits of grass that had been found for them.
Below a stunted tree near the picket lines, a pile of arrows was sitting ready, a few hundred in all. Three dozen short spears were stacked in ranks against a squarish rock. Ten feet away from that, a rough wooden frame supported several of the saddles and bridles that had been damaged in the battle, and repaired earlier that day.
A little ways away from that, a large tent made of heavy canvas had been set up to serve as the infirmary. There were half a dozen beds in it, little more than canvas stretchers on wooden legs, looking thin and depressing under the light of the oil lamps. Four were still occupied by injured monsters. The fifth was occupied by Dian Keto, who had collapsed from exhaustion earlier that evening. The Mystical Elf was attending all of them, despite her own weariness.
The remaining monsters had split off into small groups, held together by earlier friendship or kinship, or simply those who had formed a sudden companionship in battle. These groups of monsters had lit a dozen campfires, scattered about the entire site. The monsters were clustered around them, either in their bedrolls trying to sleep, or sitting on the ground trying to think. All of them were trying to heal.
At the farthest corner of the camp, a tall, black tent was set up, nearly invisible in the darkness. Inside of it, Onyx sat cross-legged on the canvas 'floor,' her head bent over the old parchment map. It was a sign of how exhausted she was that she didn't notice Sarah's presence behind her until the girl spoke.
"You need to sleep."
Onyx jumped slightly, majic sparking from her fingers in her surprise and lighting a pale-green fire on one corner of the map. "I'm fine, Hikari," she answered flatly, extinguishing the flame with a wave of her hand.
"No, you're not fine. You're cross-eyed from staring at that map and you just set your pants on fire."
The dark woman twitched slightly, then patted out the small fire on the knee of her leggings without comment. Shooting the foulest look she could muster at the girl, she gritted out a warning. "Not. One. Word."
"One word exactly, actually," Sarah answered, completely unimpressed. "Sleep!"
"I don't - "
"Onyx, you're in no fit state to fight," Sarah pointed out, a little more gently. "Get some rest. You can plan with a fresh mind in the morning."
"Plan, yes. Because we have so much bloody information," Onyx snapped, shoving herself to her feet and nearly falling again because her legs had lost their circulation. "I can't contact Veronique, Neo can't contact Kate, and Gartic is so exhausted he can't even contact his brother. We have no way to gain information, Hikari. We're completely cut off and have no way of finding out Troy's plans."
Sarah shook her head slightly. "We have you, Onyx. Your mind and your experience. You don't need to know his plans – you can figure them out by what you know of him and the country you fled. We have the training and the skills you gave us, and the powers you've helped us develop. It will be enough." Turning slightly, the girl limped slowly towards her own bedroll, next to Celtos' empty one, at the back of Onyx's tent. "Go to sleep, Onyx!"
Onyx did not move, but watched the girl silently until she had fallen to sleep. Only then did the dark woman roll up the map and claim her own bedroll, a near-silent whisper escaping her lips. "Hikari, I only hope you're right."
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Troy and his men had prepared through the day for the coming march and battle. Swords were being sharpened, bows were being checked, arrows were being assembled, armor was being readied, and men were preparing their horses. Onyx was going to be in for a good fight.
Kate paced the floor of her room until well into the afternoon. She was still trembling from killing the king and being forced onto that balcony; she was nearly at her wit's end. She was struggling to hold onto not only her composure, but her sanity. She kept pacing the room, every now and then stopping when her frantic mind replayed the killing. She paced, perhaps for hours, until the doors to her room opened once more. Two guards, looking just short of terrified, stood there, one to either side of the door. Their stance was rigid with either respect or fear, and Katie knew who was coming. Sure enough, Troy entered the room a moment later, clad in black and silver as the king once had been. At the sight of him, Kate immediately halted and stared at him, forcing her face into blankness. Troy's hands were hidden beneath a bundle of ebony cloth, and Kate's eyes flickered to it almost immediately. Troy took two long steps toward her, and hurled the bundle against her chest. Kate caught it on reflex, scarcely allowing herself to blink.
"That is your outfit for tomorrow," Troy informed her, his white teeth flashing in an expression like a wolf's snarl.
She looked down at the cloth for a moment in confusion – there was not enough material for a dress – and Troy took advantage of her distraction, stepping close enough to speak into her ear.
"You're going with me to watch your friends die tomorrow," he whispered in that arrogant tone.
Kate twisted the fabric in her hands and snarled back at him. "You'll never defeat Onyx and Veronique!".
Without warning, Troy had grabbed her upper arms, his hands so hard that her fingers went numb, the dark fabric slipping to the floor. His face was an inch away from hers and his eyes were furious.
"I will NOT be defeated, especially by a bunch of inhuman beasts! You will watch your friends suffer and die, and then when it's over you will surrender to me and become my queen!"
"I'd kill myself before I would surrender anything to you!"
Troy squeezed harder, and Kate nearly cried out from the pain of his grasp. "Once this battle is over and I am victorious, you will be by my side forever. You will continue the House of the Snake and the kingdom itself by bearing my sons or you will suffer a long and painful death."
Kate drew her head back an inch and spat in his face. "I would sooner die than give myself to you!"
Before she could blink his hand struck the left side of her face, adding yet another bruise to it. Before she could recover from that, something struck the back of the head, and she lost consciousness before she hit the floor.
Kate woke up to a cool cloth dabbing her wounded face. Carefully, she cracked open one swollen eye, then flinched away as the cloth touched a bruise on her cheek.
"Please be still, my lady," came a soft voice from her side.
Kate carefully relaxed back into the pillow and blinked both her eyes open. Glancing sideways, she found the young servant girl standing beside the bed, holding the cool, wet cloth that she'd been using to tend Kate's bruised face. Neither one said anything for a few moments, until the girl paused mid-dab and spoke up in a nervous whisper.
"I'm glad you killed the king."
Kate opened her eyes again and looked at the girl, startled. "Why are you glad?" Talking was painful, and she wondered if her jaw was broken. Quite possibly. It had been hit enough.
The maid beside her was shaking, but her hands were still gentle on Kate's wounded face. "He was an evil man. They all are. This whole kingdom is pure evil."
Kate was surprised to say the least. Days ago, the maid had been terrified of her. Now, she had apparently realized that Kate was not the evil in the kingdom. After this, the girl said no more, but dabbed a few more of Kate's bruises and left the room with a respectful bow.
Later that night, nightmares of the day's events kept tearing Kate from sleep. During her brief moments of sleep she thrashed until her bedcovers knotted around her body; twice she woke up screaming because she thought they were Troy's hands. The more she tossed and turned, the more her abused body ached, until she finally gave up attempting to sleep. She couldn't close her eyes anymore, for fear of seeing the memories again. Silent tears fell from her eyes as she slowly pushed the tangled covers away and slid from the bed.
Carefully, wincing as the bruise on her stomach protested the movement, she walked across the room to the washbasin by her window. She splashed the cool water on her face and carefully wiped it dry with a towel before something caught her eye. There was a bundle of black cloth lying on the chair nearby, the same bundle that Troy had thrown at her earlier. Now, she could see the edge of something red in the middle of it as well. Picking it up again, her first thought on the clothes came back to her – there wasn't enough material for a dress. Shaking her head slightly, she wondered if he had commissioned something for her, like one of the thin robes that Onyx sometimes wore. That in mind, she shook out the cloth. It took her a long moment to realize exactly what she was looking at, but when she did, she dropped the clothes to the ground with a little cry of horror.
Just when she thought Troy could sink no lower. The clothes he gave her were rough-woven black cloth and a red sash. He was trying to dress her like a soldier. He was going to use her as a human shield, a guarantee for his own survival. And worst of all, if she wasn't recognized, one of her own friends could end up killing her.
She tried to steady her thoughts, but she was still reeling from her dreams and the previous day's events. There was very little that could be done about it now. Sighing heavily, she stripped out of the silken gown and pulled on the rough soldier's clothes. With any fortune, she would be recognized and spared. Sitting down by the fire to fasten her boots, it occurred to her with a brief, near-hysterical giggle that she was more comfortable in the soldier's garb than she ever had been in the silken gowns.
The fire had long since died in the stone hearth, but after throwing on a spare log and blowing on the embers, she got it to start once more. The castle seemed icy to her, and right now the cold and pain were all she felt.