Perilous Path
Garen nods, "Seems strong enough to me," Garen looks behind himself when the tent flap begins to open. Garen curses at the gods when he sees who it is. Royal guard, and the prince himself stand cramped inside the tent.
"Garen," the prince's eyes lock with the knights, "This was my prisoner, you have no right to go around relieving them from their punishment! Do you understand what she is charged of? Do you understand the burden you've just laid upon your house?" The guard grow tense still not being used to the prince's outbursts.
"My prince, I have the right to burden myself with whatever I wish. The gods believe in redemption, and this soldier looks for some way to redeem herself. If she fails it'll be on me you've been cleaned of having to deal with her," Garen says his hands balled behind his back.
"Your reputation can only take you so far. If this one fails on you Garen you'd best be prepared for the consequences. My father grows tired of your house. You know what happens to those who disappoint the king," with those words the prince left.
When the last of the guard shuffled out Garen turned back toward Quinn, "Even if you didn't kill those soldiers you still have a long journey ahead of you if you want to be known as anything other than a kinslayer. If you fail me you'll be hanged, drawn, and quartered by the word of either the king or my father. This is your second chance, you are allowed no more mistakes,".
Quinn nods her head, "I understand ser,". He got what he wanted in the end. A bloody squire, who would of thought I'd be where Caleb wished.
"We'll need to get out of this camp before things get ugly. The prince knows his place in terms of the honor code. Some of these soldiers may not. First order of business is we need to make you look acceptable. Your attire makes you look like you butchered half the Demacian army," Garen motioned for her to follow him out of the tent,"Have you ever heard of Commander Johansen?"
Quinn shakes her head, "Can't say I have, Ser,".
"Similar to what has happened to you, but his rank saved his skin. Hmm, where to start," his long strides force Quinn to walk at an uncomfortable pace. "A few centuries back, before the Jarvan dynasty, and even before the discovery of Ionia and its people, a commander sat over Demacia. He was second only to his grand general. The commander was ruthless, and killed many to get where he sat. The commander kept his power through his prowess in battle. He was a harsh leader, but he kept Demacia safe,".
"Many don't think kindly that speak well on any Demacian from these times. Many wish for these times to be forgotten as they tie us closely with Noxus. Why do you tell me this tale?" Quinn asks as she continues to follow Garen through the camp. She was glad she had someone to guide her through the maze of tents. Why hasn't Noxus attacked? This would be an easy victory.
"If you'd let me get to that you'd know. Johansen lead a charge to attempt an invasion on Noxus. His troops sat outside the capital when they were attacked from within. Men in blue turned on each other while Noxus launched an attack from atop their walls. Through the heat of battle the commander found who he could trust, and killed all he could not, Noxian and Demacian alike. He was forced to retreat when Demacians fled from fear that they would be executed by Johansen. The commander spent the next weeks in Noxus hunting all the Demacians who fled the battle. He returned to the capital with their heads, and laid them in front of the grand general. The general became furious at the butchery the commander had lead. He would have ordered for his execution if he didn't fear an uprising in the commander's name. Instead he labeled him as a kinslayer and exiled him into what is now the Freljord," the pair approach a tent with the gold tent of Crownsguard mercenaries sitting outside. The mercenaries salute Garen, and Garen returns it before leading Quinn inside.
"The moral of the story is that vengeance is not justice. Vengeance only leads to death, and a complete loss of honor. I can see it in your eyes, you'll not follow the path of Johansen. It may seem like the right course of action, but it'll just leave you even more empty than before,". A female servant approaches Garen, and looks at Quinn.
A sense of urgency fills her voice as she asks, "What can we do for you master?" a few more servants appear from farther back in the tent.
"Milda this girl is in need of acceptable clothing. Once she has been given this send her for me at the stables,". When the servant nods Garen exits the tent, and Quinn awkwardly stands in the middle of the tent when the servants disappear looking for clothing. I should be giddy that Garen has taken me under his wing. A frown sits on her face as she wipes sweat off of her hands onto her pants.
A servant appears, and beckons her to come. The servant hands her some folded clothes and leads her back into the servant quarters. Quinn looks down at the clothes to see them a mustard color. This'll stick out among a sea of blue, Crownguards must like showing their property off. "What made the master take interest in you? You warm his bed?"
Quinn goes pale, and stammers out "No, is he known to do things like this often," she is lead to a folding curtain. In which Quinn slides shut.
"He seems to have certain tastes, and many a woman wish to lay with such a man. Can't really blame them who wouldn't want to be blessed by that man," the words of the servant attempt to pry at Quinn. Might as well give them some gossip. Quinn thought on the man, and found herself to think himself quite handsome, but she had been preoccupied with other thoughts during the times they met to fall under these thoughts. Quinn doesn't answer the woman and instead focuses on dressing herself. "You treat yourself too much like a man to fall under his fancy,".
Quinn angers at the comment, "Do you think women can't fight? Do you think we should all grovel at their feet? I don't act like a man. I follow my aspirations. A difference exists,".
"Keep telling yourself that girl, and maybe one day you'll believe it. I know our place, and you'll find yours one day,".
Quinn exits the tent enraged. How could one think like that? Do they have no respect for what has been accomplished? She finds herself in the middle of the camp surrounded by faces that see her as a kinslayer. She approaches one, "Where are the stables?"
He spits at her feet, "Back where your men lay kinslayer. The crownsguard can only protect you for so long," some of the other soldiers voice their agreement. "If you'd like to keep your head you best find your master. I can't promise that we'll keep our swords steady with an enemy in our presence,".
She attempts a reply when she feels a harsh pull on the back of her shirt. A gold lined jacket covers him as he pulls Quinn away from the soldiers. "Do you think its a good idea to walk into the middle of the prince's soldiers?" Quinn pulls away from the man's grip and gives him a stern look. She takes in his face to see wrinkles covering most of his forehead, and many scars lining around his mouth. His right ear is cut in two, and his nose broken in four places. She stops herself from reeling from the site of his face. "Being so stubborn will get you killed one of these days," the man grumbles, "I'll lead you to the stables,".
"Being so stubborn is how I made it here today. What's your name?" she asks as they walk toward the stables.
"The one and only Freyon the cold of the Freljord. I'm the head guard Garen brought along. With how much gold the Crownsguard show off it seems they could fill my pockets a little more,". Quinn finds herself asking him about the knight and the mercenary finds himself answering every question she asks. "It is odd for Garen to take a woman under his mentorship. It's odd for him to be a mentor at all, he'd rather be either knee deep in blood, or a feast. Being the son of a lord has its privileges, even more so if you're the one tasked to keeping the head of the son attached to his shoulders," Freyon says his rotting teeth growing even more yellow from the oxygen they had been deprived of.
Quinn being used to the sight smiles back. The man reminds her of what her father used to be."I didn't really have much of a choice to be put under his service, but it's better than having my blood spilled. Live to fight another day,".
"You seem like a smart lass, and seem to have a sense of honor. I can't go trusting what drunk men in Jarvan's camp be talking about to see who you are. You make sure this works out with the Crownsguard family for yourself. You've been given an opportunity, and you best not waste it,".
Quinn looks puzzled as she asks, "What brings this out of you?".
"I've seen many go through the Crownsguard family only to end up like minced meat when they exit. All I'm saying is don't test the family. Soldiers like us are easily replaced, what our actions bring is not," Freyon nods at his own words needing to know they were true.
Quinn doesn't know how she should reply so she decides against replying at all. The two walk in silence until they reach the stable. She spots Garen sitting on his steed. The freljordian walks up to Garen and bows before the man. "I bring who you called,".
"Thank you Freyon. I'm going to be leaving with a small party. You are to lead the Crownsguard here until you make it back to the city,". Freyon bows and heads back toward the Crownsguard tent.
"Do you have Valor? We've been separated from quite some time,". Quinn says trying not to look intimidated by the man who sat a few feet above her while on horseback.
Garen looked confused until he replied, "Ah yes, the bird,". The man turns behind him and a servant immediately advances. Valor sits in a cage meant for a bird twice his size. His wings sit painfully poke out of the cage as his eyes meet Quinn. Pain is washed away by relief as he sets his eyes on her. Quinn frowns at Garen before approaching the cage and unlocking it.
She pulls the eagle out and gently scratches at his feathers. She whispers in his ear, "It's okay little guy, you can stretch out your wings now. No one should be caged like that,". She frowns at Garen yet again. He returns it before he motions for a servant to bring forward another horse.
While the horse is brought forward Garen turns toward his left. A heavyset man sits atop another horse. The horse lets out a soft whine from the weight of the man. "This is a close friend of my father. Admiral for my father's private navy. Joseph Lurium,".
"A pleasure," the admiral says giving a half bow while on the horse. I wonder how the boats stop from snapping if the horse is having a difficult time keeping him.
The thought brings a smile on her face as she replies formally, "The pleasure is mine admiral,".
"Who would of thought one of the volunteers so civilized. The way the king speaks of you lot is as if you're a band of outcasts, misfits if you will. I'm glad to see that you are an exception,". What does this man want? Why did he evade calling out the king on a lie?
The horse is brought forward, and Quinn examines it before mounting. She runs her fingers through its bronze mane, and pats the top of its head. White spots on its nose contrast with its black coat. She rubs its nose until it pushes back into her hand. She mounts the horse, and turns toward the knight. "Where'd you learn that?" he asks pointing toward the horse.
"I had a doctor in my town that I helped when animals needed assistance. From birthing to letting their passing go smoothly. Just something you pick up with enough time I guess," Quinn shrugs her shoulders as what she had done with the horse had felt second nature to her. She hadn't even thought on it when she examined the horse, and reassured it that she'd be easy on it. She notices Valor flying above as she sits on the horse. I guess it's always came easy for me.
"I've yet to inform you on what we're doing. The three of us are going ahead of Jarvan's camp to make haste for the capital. The camp brings more danger than the open road will. It'll take us a few days, if the gods are willing, but we'll make it a few days before Jarvan's party," Garen says rather bluntly. Quinn nods understanding his true intention. He wishes me away from the men who would wish to slit my throat, and keep me away from the men I'd like to chop in two. "Well then, we best be off. We still have a little over half a day of light to guide us forward," the man says before guiding his horse forward. Quinn and the admiral quickly follow behind the man.
An hour pass before they clear themselves of the final tent. Garen leads them onto a road that cuts through the forest. "A town sits a few miles away from here we can stop there," he says as he slows his horse so he sits by the others. "What made you want to join the volunteers Quinn? It's not a line of work for many,".
Quinn takes a few seconds before responding, "I've wanted to serve Demacia like my father ever since I picked up the sword. My father was quick to teach me, and my mother was willing to go along with it. I enjoyed the dance of swords, I guess you could say I feel as if I was born to fight," she finds herself clearing her throat before continuing. "Me and my brother both wished for this life. Well in truth he wished to serve under your house. Funny how the gods dish things out," she suppresses the emotion behind her words causing Garen to wonder what she hid.
"Did your brother join you in the volunteers?" the admiral asks not noticing the emotion she hid.
"He wasn't able to make it that far. He liked the idea behind the volunteers more than myself to be honest. I just wanted to be a soldier, not give my life to the job. The goals of others seem to mix with your own when they pass. I carried on where he couldn't by joining the volunteers. The volunteers must be thrilled by how I served them. Not even accepted into their ranks and I fail them,".
"You still did your brother proud by attempting at serving their order. You should be proud in that. You've brought his soul some bit of peace," the admiral says seeming more jolly than ever before. Quinn gives him a weak smile.
"Thank you. I hope that the work I've done against Noxus so far has made him proud,". She hears a cry from Valor. She looks out into the wooded sections surrounding the road to see the iron. Time slows as she sees the eyes that sit behind the arrow. Two poisonous slits that hold nothing but slits expand as panic fills the eyes. The arrow flies landing in the eye of her mount. The horse doesn't even have the time to let out a scream as the two fall over in unison. She cries out, "Bandits!" before her head impacts with the rough ground.
A few words enter her mind before she blacks out, "Get the fine clothed ones! Leave the girl, we have enough at the town,".
She wakes to severe pain in her leg. Her eyes open to see an arrow shaft sitting in the eye of the mount that rests on her right leg. She hears Valor close to her, but pays little attention to the bird. She attempts to push the mount off, but comes to no avail. She can feel her leg slowly being crushed by its weight. She lays her head back against the cold earth. Valor cries out again and she looks at the bird. He sits at the feet of another woman.
Many scars cover the face of the woman as she looks down at Quinn. "Looks like you've got yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place,".
"More like a horse and the ground,".
The woman bends down and lays her hands on the horse. "I'll help you lift it under one condition,". Quinn didn't feel in the mood for conditions but she asked what they were. "We gut the men who stole my daughters. They seem to have taken who you were traveling with as well,". Quinn nods her head, and the two quickly push the horse off of Quinn. The woman is already many paces ahead of Quinn when she stands up. Seems to be trustworthy enough. Who else will help me save the only one who will vouch for me?