Chapter 9: Breaking Waves
„No", Aífe whispered and stood still for a moment, taking in the scene. Her breath caught in her throat. The children were split into groups – she could see a boat out on the water, already close to the ship that was waiting beyond the rocks that blocked the access to the bay. Completely out of reach. There was another boat already in the water, several children and two grown men within, and a few more men and children on the beach, where a third boat was pulled towards the water.
The men had already seen them – probably spotting the torch she had carried to allow them to move faster, but it mattered little. There was no cover here and they would have seen them in any case. She had started running before she had fully formulated a plan, her fighting dagger in her right hand and the water splashing up around her. It slowed her down, but she ignored it as best she could and within moments Grimm was overtaking her, snarling madly.
She raised her arm then, pointing at a man standing furthest away and already raising his bow. "Grimm, reap!" The mabari increased his speed, fangs bared, and rocketed past a woman, skillfully evading the sword directed at him. She could hear his growl and a yelp, but had already focused on the boat in the water. "Clear the beach! Keep them away from the water!", she shouted to her two companions and sidestepped the woman's attack, now directed at her. Behind her was the clash of weapons, but she did not slow or turn around.
Completely ignoring the other men at the beach, she ran for the boat already in the water. An arrow flew past her, so close that she could hear the sound it made as it cut through the air. She kept running regardless, hand already on the hilt of her short dagger. One of the men inside the boat noticed her drawing close and with a curse jumped out into the water. With a grunt he gripped the boat and gave it a strong push away from the shore, before she could reach it. The man in the boat started to row, while the one in the water swung around to face her, sword ready. He had underestimated her speed and seemed surprised to have her so close already, for his aim was off and she blocked the sword with her dagger, keeping the blade a mere inch from her side. She pulled the shorter dagger from its sheath and grunted as he disengaged from her, pushing her back.
A short glance towards the boat showed that the man put all his power into getting it as far away from the beach as fast as possible. She cursed, eyes flickering back to the man in front of her. He was taller than her, but only wore simple leather armor. Her gaze hardened as she lunched forward, fully expecting his counter – almost anticipating it. She made no move to disengage and instead brought up her left hand with the short dagger in a powerful upwards-trust. The blade slipped into the flesh beneath his breast bone, the enchanted blade cutting through skin and muscles almost too easily. She had hit the right spot. Blood started to trickle over her fingers and as she quickly pushed him to the side, extracting her blade, she turned and hacked her fighting dagger downwards, cutting into his throat even as he was still falling. The water exploded in a dark cloud as he landed, but Aífe allowed herself no time to linger.
With quick movements she sheathed the daggers and then loosened her belt, throwing it towards the beach – the outermost layer of her leather armor followed, and with some difficulty her boots and gauntlets soon after. She cursed at the time it cost her to pull them off, but knew they would slow her down too much otherwise. Nimble fingers opened the sashes and ties that kept her breast plate of drake bone in place. The moment she had thrown it towards the beach, she pulled her hunting knife, took it between her teeth and jumped into the water. She would have to fully trust the others to take care of the remaining men.
The boat had a head start on her, but she was a fast swimmer and she could dive under the high waves, while the boat was rocked back and forth with them. Her thoughts were racing, formulating a plan, possible scenarios. If she reached the boat, she could try to pull the man into the water. He wore heavier armor than she did, he would have much more difficulty. Perhaps she would be able to place a well-aimed thrust with her knife and severe an artery, it would make it impossible for him to row all the way to the boat. She prayed they would not see her and send reinforcements. Hearing shouts from the ship ahead, she increased her speed. The armor pieces she had not been able to remove quickly enough were slowing her down, she was not used to wearing anything besides a tunic when swimming and the rough sea helped little. Slowly she was gaining on the boat, and the man knew it as well.
He dropped the oars and pulled a knife, aiming it for her. When he let fly, she quickly dove into the water, propelled herself forward with quick strokes. When she came up for air, the boat almost within reach, the cold of the water began to slowly seep into her bones. He already waited for her with another knife, throwing it. She dipped beneath the surface last minute – but not deep enough. The knife cut her above one eyebrow, not deep enough to be serious, but she could feel hot blood trickle down her face when she came up again. Her heart was thundering in her chest.
Pushing on she took her knife into her right hand to cover the last few meters, but then the man spoke in Antivan, pulled the boy right in front of him up and without so much as hesitating for a moment, threw him over board. Surprise made her hesitate for a moment.
The boy uttered a shriek as he hit the water, arms flailing helplessly as he tried to keep himself on the surface. Even in the darkness of the night Aífe could see his panicked look as they locked eyes, the tiny hand stretching towards her. For a moment her eyes flickered back to the boat, where the man had settled down again and leaned into the oars, quickly moving towards the ship now. She could see the hunched silhouettes of the children, huddled close together. One was looking at her, the face expressionless, but the eyes bright. There was hope in those eyes.
Gritting her teeth Aífe put the knife back in its sheath with some difficulty – she would not be able to throw it accurately enough without risking the children in the boat. "Jump!", she shouted to the children in the boat, feeling the growing desperation as she reached the boy in the water, grabbing his arm and pulling him close. The child's movements were frantic and as it was trying to hold onto her, it hit her with an arm across the nose and kicked her in the stomach. Coughing she tightened the grip on the boy, pulling his back against her own chest and leaning back slightly. "I have you, it is alright. It is alright", she said pressed as an elbow connected with her ribs.
Aífe looked back at the boat that was moving further and further away. She would not be able to follow it, not with the boy in her arms. "Jump out, I will get you!", she shouted again, at the same time realizing that it was difficult enough to support the one little boy in her arms. She was not sure how many more she would even be able to hold over water, much less bring back to the shore. But once the boat reached the ship, they were completely out of her reach. "Come on! Trust me!", she shouted again, feeling the boy turn in her arms and wrap his thin arms around her neck. It made swimming even more difficult, but at least he had stopped kicking and twisting.
The night cast a thick blanket over the boat and Aífe could see little. The cold pricked her skin like a thousand needles and she gritted her teeth. Could she carry a second child to the shore? She could not say. Blood was dripping into her eyes and she blinked it away, desperate to not loose eye-contact with the bright-eyed child. It was a small girl, she thought, not much older than the boy in her arms. None of the children moved. They were scared.
"I will come and get you", she shouted, following an impulse. "I will come and get you and bring you back home. I promise you!" The boy's arms tightened around her neck, nails digging painfully into her skin as he held on for dear life. "I will find you!"
She was not sure if it was the weight of her armor and the boy or the weight that had settled in her guts, dragging on her legs, making movement more and more difficult. The blood seeping from her wound felt hot on her skin and she took a deep, shaky breath. She had failed tonight.
The boy in her arms moved and she heard a faint whimper close to her ear. She pulled him closer and tried to smile, even though he probably could not see it. "It is alright, I am here. I have you." Her voice was no more than a murmur as she watched the boat melt into the shadow the ship cast and finally, painstakingly slowly, she averted her eyes.
A big wave rolled over them and they came back up, coughing and spitting and the boy had once against started to scramble to get to the surface. Aífe gritted her teeth as she received another blow to her ribs, but just pressed him close with one arm, while she started to disentangle his arms from her neck.
"Listen to me, it is going to be alright. But I need you to help me, yes?", she said and tried to sound calm. "I need my hands to swim, you see?", Aífe explained and slowly took one of the boy's hands to put it on her shoulder. "You need to hold on – just that. Only hold on, nothing more. It is easy. If you cannot anymore, you tell me. Come now, let us get back", she said as calmly as she could. It was difficult to free her neck from the boy's craps, but eventually he allowed her to readjust his grip to her shoulder, so she could turn around and start swimming towards the beach. His fingers dug into her skin and she bit her lip in an effort to just keep swimming.
The cold started to spread through her and she shivered, putting more energy into her strokes. She did not want to imagine how the child felt. Their progress was slow – she was a fast swimmer, but she had never had to move anybody in the water and much less so with the added weight of armor. Twice she had to stop to help him readjust his grip.
When she finally was close enough to the shore to stand, she was about ready to collapse. Collecting him into her arms, she moved through the water, coughing up seawater she had swallowed fighting against the waves. Her throat burned like fire and so did her eyes. Dizziness almost overwhelmed her as she waded forward and she blinked like an owl to clear her vision. As she looked up, she could see the tall form of Alistair wade into the water to meet her, his arm outstretched. His face was cast in shadows, but even so she could see his furrowed eyebrows.
"The beach is clear", he said, his voice low. Nodding her acknowledgement, she carefully staggered forward and was thankful for his hand on her elbow, steadying her and keeping her upright. Grimm was at her side the very next instant, dancing around her with nervousness and a low whine. The blood still spilling from the cut on her brow felt even hotter now on her face and was dripping onto her neck and shoulder.
She set the boy down carefully and then, despite Alistair's best efforts, let herself drop to her knees and leaned forward, catching her fall on her hands. Her attempts at fighting off the shiver that started to run up her spine were fruitless - she started to shake and bit her lip as she turned to face the boy, a small smile plastered on her lips. "Now, that was not so bad, was it? A tad cold, perhaps", she said almost conversationally and avoided gazing back over her shoulder towards the ship. The boy looked at her, eyes big. His lips were blue and he had put his arms around his knees, desperate for warmth.
Grabbing hold of Grimm's neck, she pulled him closer and pushed him towards the boy, a signal the hound accepted quietly, albeit with a moment of hesitation. He settled down next to the boy, licking over his face briefly, before he pressed himself closer. "That is Grimm, he is a very good friend of mine. He is very warm, can you feel it?", she asked quietly and tried to push herself upward again. Her legs trembled and she allowed herself a few more moments, closing her eyes. Slowly her labored breathing grew more even and she forced herself to take deep breaths, before she finally opened her eyes again.
Only now she noticed that Alistair still stood beside her, offering her a hand that she accepted. His skin felt scorching hot underneath her fingers and she almost pulled back in surprise, but he tightened his grasp and pulled her up with a tug, until she stood staggering.
She regarded the boy at her feet, who had by now slung his arms around Grimm and pressed close. He had buried his face in the hound's fur and Grimm shot her a curious glance. He uttered a low rumble that she knew to be a question and she put her hand on his head, rubbing it. "The other children?", she asked Alistair, who still stood close. Only now she noticed the blood on his armor and a few splatters on his face. Absentmindedly she wiped her arm across her brow to keep the blood from dripping down. The wound seemed to slowly stop bleeding.
"There were only five children left on the beach, they are safe. Nelaros led them away from here, so they would not have to look at – well", the warrior explained and shrugged. She saw at least three bodies lying somewhere behind him, another one in the water. Puddles of blood were starting to accumulate around them and she nodded, digging her toes into the sand and rubbing her arms desperate for even a bit of warmth.
Her thoughts were once again racing and she cursed under her breath. Everything went wrong. She had had a plan, everything prepared. Now she could not be sure whether there was an information leak somewhere, although she thought it likely. Why else would the slavers risk the transfer in the deep of the night instead of waiting for morning light? Aífe turned to look at Alistair, who watched her closely. He seemed on edge. But then, he had since she had met him.
Had he betrayed them? No, she thought, impossible. She had not told him anything until the last moment and there had been ample opportunity to sabotage them. In fact, without him the mage in the cave could have hurt her considerably. All that proved that her first impression was correct – he had been a good choice.
"You are insane. Has anybody ever told you that?", he asked then suddenly and she lost her train of thoughts for a moment. "I can be a tad behaviorally experimental. It is one of my more charming attributes", she said without thinking and shook her head. Concentrate, she admonished herself, concentrate and move. There is no time for being an idiot, even less so when your toes have turned an unhealthy shade of blue. Plus, right now he looked at her as though she might throw up her hands in the air and start the newest fashionable Orlesian dance any moment now. She considered doing it, just to gauge his reaction and perhaps because somewhere not so deep down anymore hysteria started to rear its head and make kissy-faces at her.
Concentrate, she told herself once again, and finally found the strength to start moving. She had a bit more time before exhaustion and cold would all but bring her to her knees and she needed to use it. She started to open the sashes of the remaining armor pieces to pull them off. First, get out of the wet armor. Then, follow the plan. She had been prepared for anything.
"Alistair, take the lad and join Nelaros. He knows what to do – tell him to go to the cave we prepared and to light a fire, but cover the entrance. Move fast and protect the entrance. Grimm can scout for you." She was already moving and did not look at any of them, but then Grimm was in front of her, blocking her way.
"He is right", Alistair said, even though the hound had not uttered a sound. "You are dripping wet and bleeding." Grimm huffed in agreement and she narrowed her eyes at him, before she turned to face the warrior. He had crouched down next to the boy, who sat there stiffly and forlornly after Grimm had left him, eyes still on her. She wiped a hand over her brow again and when she looked at it, she could see that it was covered in blood. Allowing herself no more than a moment, she shrugged and looked at the boy, offering him a hand to help him up. To her surprise, he took it and immediately curled his hand into hers.
"We don't know if anybody else is coming or if they will send reinforcement from the ship", she said curtly to Alistair, but regretted her tone immediately. "There is much to do still and little time", she added. Grimm was still blocking her path. "I need to find out where that ship is bound and who they are working for. The guards will wake soon and any of them could have information on him. I will cover your trail and lay a wrong one, should I see sign of pursuit."
"That does not change that you are wet and have been hit by lightning", Alistair said quietly and she gritted her teeth. As if she didn't know that herself. She needed no reminder of that. She locked eyes with him and scowled for good measure. He did not seem impressed. She added more scowl.
"I know. I also know that I can take it and that I will have to. Go, Alistair. I will join soon." It was obvious that he did not agree with her – he had no talent for lies, his feelings were written on his face. She had by now picked up the boy and handed him over to the warrior, though, leaving him little choice.
As Aífe turned to tell Grimm to join them, she could see that the command would be useless. She knew his look and he was still upset that she had left him behind when she wandered the city to avoid attention. He would not leave her side now. "Grimm", she said and touched a finger to his snout, before she started to jog towards the bodies on the beach. She would search them for anything useful and put on at least her dry boots, then she would return to the cave. Stooping to pick up her daggers, she lifted them to her eyes. She would get the information she needed, in whatever way necessary.
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Author's Comment: Sooo, finally chapter 9. =) Again an infinite work of writing, deleting every letter, rewriting. There are many different versions of this chapter, but this is the one I decided to go with, after all. I tried to stay accurate in terms of what is really humanly possible and surely hope that this doesn't sound too unlikely. I want to thank Emma as always for telling me it's ok to upload this. X'D The fighting was a bit limited in this one, since it was Aífe's POV, but I promise to try to add more gore and finesse to the fights in the future, as was suggested by EkoCentric :)
I hope you enjoy this chapter, the next one will have a bit more explanation in it and Alistair will get to think about what he's gotten himself into. Sadly, there will be no Orlesian fashion dance, I think... unless somebody can give me a really good reason. X'D
Thanks to everybody for reviewing, thank you very, very much =) And a special wave and salute to the guys and galls from the Alistair-Fanclub! :) Alyssacousland and Graymalyk!