OK so this is lately posted, so it's a little longer than the other chapters. I'll be posting more often now though, I had a school project recently so it hampered my progress...
Happy late Halloween!
R&R It's greatly appreciated!
Halt was perched on a tree branch overlooking the garrison. From where he was in the sheltered canopy of the pin tree he could see the front of the garrison and the interior. He had picked out Cedric easily, the Battlemaster's blonde hair was easily spotted against the dreary looking masonry of the garrison. Not far away, in another tree, Halt could spot the mottled shape of Gilan. He too was intent on watching the garrison.
From what Halt had observed, the Cult's, as Strider called the attackers, had been fair opponents. Two of the Knight's of Meric lay ominously still, only four remained, along with one fear stricken apprentice. Strider had told them it could have been worse, and Halt wasn't sure if he believed the girl. He glanced around warily, looking for the slim shouldered shape. He spotted Strider, flanked by the shadows of the forest. A furry shape stood guard next to the girl. Halt remembered the promise they had made.
Before they had reached the garrison Strider had stopped and warned them that helping the Knights while they were scouting could be fatal, for both the Knights' and the Ranger's.
"And what about you?" Gilan had asked, "Won't that be bad for you to?"
Strider let out a snort of contempt, "Fire one arrow and I'll be gone before it strikes it's target." She told them. Gilan was unsure if Strider had been sincere or not, but frankly, he had no intentions of finding out.
So in turn, they were forced to watch helplessly as the Knights were held captive. Halt looked up, the sun was sinking in the sky. There was a soft knock on the tree trunk and Halt looked down.
"Time to go." Strider said in a scarcely audible whisper.
The Shadow encampment was alive with activity when the scouting party had returned. More Shadows were present as the darkness began to fall over the forest, some sat around by fires, sharpening long daggers, or sparing with each other energetically.
As they entered the camp they were quickly greeted by Fell. He had a devilish grin on his young face as he approached the Ranger's and Strider.
"Were almost ready, you might as well take this time to prepare. We won't have time to eat before we leave, so you'll have to settle for this." Fell held up a woolen sack, and threw the gaping opening at the top, Halt could see the bright red skins of Apples. Fell passed the bag to Strider, who took an apple and passed it along to Halt.
"When do we leave?" Gilan asked, his fingers were itching with anxiety. He wished more than ever to be back at the garrison, but this time, he would have liked to have his bow in his hands, and an arrow nocked to the string.
"When the moon shows it's face above the clearing we'll be set." Fell told them before he made his way off to finish the arrangements for the attack.
Strider led them to a vacant fire and slumped against a log. They had only been their a few moments when a cheerful young face greeted them.
"How'd it go?" Glade asked energetically as he took a place beside his mentor. The dog laid by the fire, the flickering flames reflecting in the green eyes.
"Good." Strider said, biting into an apple. "I'm guessing Kerjack kept you busy while we were gone?"
Glade nodded, "He always does." Then he turned to look at the Ranger's, that questioning look on his tan face, then he looked back at his mentor.
"Am I going to tonight?" The question was sudden, and Strider shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground. She shrugged.
"I'm not really sure that's up to me. Fell's organizing the raid, not me." Strider wouldn't meet Glade's pleading gaze.
"I asked him, he told me to ask you. He said that I was your apprentice, so it was your decision."
Strider shrugged again, several moments of uncomfortable silence passed before she spoke again.
"Alright, you can come with us." Strider said crisply.
Glade's face lit up and he thanked his mentor excitedly as Gilan passed him an apple. Several more moments of silence passed. The only sound was the crackling of the fire wood and the muffled sound of movement among the camp.
Suddenly there was a shout from behind the small group, and they turned to see a tall muscular figure making his way towards them. The brawny man had a tan face with deep brown eyes that seemed to have fathomless depths. He had short brown hair that accented his eyes, even in the messy distortion it was in.
"Long time no see, eh Strider?" He said in an even voice. His tone was light, and Gilan estimated his age at somewhere around twenty, at the least. He had a thin line of a scar on his left cheek, running from his forehead to his chin. Like Strider, he wore a ghostly cloak and a dark tunic. His trousers were tucked neatly into the tops of his boots. A thick blade was buckled to his right hip.
Strider grinned back at the tall man and ushered him closer to the fire. He settled himself next to Glade and smiled warmly at the apprentice and the unfamiliar Ranger's.
"This is Gilan and Halt, their Ranger's of Araluen." Strider told him.
He nodded his head to each of the Ranger's. "Well I'll be damned, I'd heard a rumor that Strider was stirring up trouble but I didn't think it was this bad."
Strider shot him a sharp look and the man grinned, continuing on.
"I'm Marek, named after the fief of Meric." He explained. "Nice to make the acquaintance of you both." The toothy grin never left his face as he added, "Now take her away for her sins." He gestured to Strider.
She rolled her eyes to the heavens, a ghost of a grin touching her features. Then, as silenced threatened to close in once more, she struck up a conversation.
"You know about the assault tonight I'm guessing?" Strider questioned Marek.
He nodded, "Sure do, I plan on attending."
Strider frowned, "You just got back, are you sure your up for it?"
Marek let out a barking laugh, "Up for it? Why wouldn't I be? You only set me away for a little thievery."
Halt looked at Marek sharply. "Thievery?" He asked darkly, his gaze swiveled to meet that of Strider's. A question was brewing in his grim eyes.
"Yeah," Marek began, he looked at Strider. "Fell said you told them about us."
Strider shrugged, "I sort of left that part out…"
Halt grimaced, "What part?" He asked, already suspecting the answer.
Strider shifted uncomfortably under the gazes lock on her.
"Remember how I told you we like to keep a close eye on the village?" Halt and Gilan nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"That's not the only reason we take such a great interest in the village. We also… Well, we take from them, when we need to."
Halt felt a surge of fury.
"Your thieves?"
Strider looked up sharply, her hazel eyes glinted defensively. "It's not like that, we only take what we absolutely need."
"That would be stealing." Halt reminded her.
"It's rather justified, considering were keeping them out of the fire while we burn." Marek added, to the Shadows defense.
Halt shook his head in disagreement. "So it's alright to let the village live in fear so you can steal them blind?"
"What do you expect? Were out here putting our lives on the line, losing everything, it's the best we could do to provide for ourselves." Strider said calmly.
Glaring at her Halt replied, "How does that make it alright?" He questioned, and Strider's eyes lost their fury.
She bit back the offensive reply that sprang to her lips. "It doesn't," Strider admitted, "I was a thief before I was a Shadow, I was a lot of trouble for a lot of people and I've done my share of dark deeds. It's not something I'm proud of, but I'm willing to put that aside, I'd steal the King's seal right off his hand if it meant the Shadows would be well fed and cared for."
Halt stayed silent this time, the loyalty Strider vowed to show was surprising, even if she was a thief. She seemed worthy of a little admiration. The tension in the air was soon broken by Glade. He looked at this mentor curiously.
"Could you really steal the King's seal?" He asked.
Strider shrugged dismissively. "It wouldn't be worth the try."
Marek leaned back against a stump of a tree. "I have to disagree. That would be one hell of a profit."
Strider rolled her eyes at him, it was a gesture she used often in his presence.
"Well… Since their seems to be some time to kill before we lay the gutter scum of the garrison to waste… Who wants to spar?" Marek's gaze searched the small ring of members gathered around he fire. None of them spoke. After a moment or two of silence Strider shrugged and stood.
"Alright, loser sharpens the winners weapons." At that Strider unclasped her cloak and dropped it by the fire, then she unbuckled her weapons, adding two long bladed daggers and a dirk stuffed into her left boot onto the pile. Marek followed suit. Next, the two Shadows moved to stand across from each other, standing a few yards away from the fire but still in ranger of it's flickering glow. They spent a few moments stretching before they began to fight. Gilan and Halt watched closely. Marek and Strider stood face to face for a moment before they began, Marek feinted forward, and Strider fell into a defensive position, Halt was reminded of a prowling cat at the movement.
Once more Marek feinted towards Strider, this time Strider stepped back, and Marek moved closer. He went on the offense, his right arm darted out, grabbing Strider's left wrist. Marek's grip was tight, and he pulled Strider towards him. Strider grinned wolfishly, she had anticipated this. She grabbed his own wrist with her free hand. Stepping close to Marek, her right foot in his path, she jerked him forward and hurled him over her hip. He landed with a heavy thud on the other side of Strider.
A wide grin spread across Marek's face as he rolled to his feet. The fight continued. Halt watched, entranced in the dance like grace of the two fighters. They would surge forward and engage in close combat, before springing apart to circle one another once more. Marek stood at least a head taller than Strider, and his broad shoulder were almost double that of Strider. The fight looked almost one sided, at first. Halt was quick to realize were Strider lacked in strength and in size was made up for in her agile and swift movements. Any time Marek began to get the best of the girl she slipped out of his grasp.
The fight ended as Marek grabbed Strider in a firm headlock. "Aha! I gotcha!" He shouted triumphantly, then with a grunt of defiance, Strider grabbed Marek's own neck and slipped her right foot behind Marek's left. She knocked his foot free from the ground and used his own weight against him.
They on the ground, grinning and laughing as they rose to their feet. They shook hands as they dusted off. Clearly, the agreement for the sparing match had been forgotten.
"Good fight." Commented Gilan as they settled once more around the fire.
Glade passed Marek a water skin, which he accepted gratefully, he drank his fill and passed it to Strider, who did the same.
"Feels good to practice." Marek said with a long sigh. He lounged lazily, leaning back tiredly against the tree stump.
"Yeah," Strider stiffened a yawn. "I'm gonna take a quick nap. If any one needs anything, bother Marek." She grinned as she rolled her cloak into a ball, using it as a makeshift pillow. Then she stretched out alongside the fire, enjoying the calm aurora of the Shadow encampment.
"You know, your allowed to talk…" Marek said after a long silence.
"We prefer not to." Halt retorted blandly.
"I've noticed," Marek told him, "There's no reason to be so quiet, us Shadows don't bite."
Halt nor Gilan replied.
"Is it the fact that were thieves?" Marek asked, propping himself up on one elbow to glare at the Ranger's.
"No, it's not that." This time it was Gilan that replied, though he was unsure how to explain the silence from the mute Ranger's.
"Then what is it?" Marek prodded. Gilan shrugged.
"Were just not talkative. We like to keep to ourselves."
Marek sighed and rolled onto his back. "If your worried about your Knightly friends, you shouldn't be. We'll bust'em out of the garrison, it's no sweat."
Halt rolled his eyes, "Were not worried." His voice was sharp and had a dangerous edge to it. Marek seemed to take the hint.
"Fine then, I'll just be quiet now." Reluctantly, Marek ceased his chatting and hummed softly to himself. Glade had begun to sharpen his weapons, and Gilan and Halt were quietly mending arrows from their quivers. Suddenly Strider sat up. The dog, who had been resting peacefully with it's massive head on it's paws, looked sharply up at her.
"Did you hear that?" She asked to no one in particular.
Marek frowned, he hadn't heard anything, and from the dumbfounded looks that surrounded the fire, neither had anyone else. There was nothing but the common sounds of the camp, the crackling of camp fires, the shuffling of bodies among the night, and the occasional bouts of laughter.
"Hear what?" Marek asked.
Strider looked around, and seeing no one else had heard an unusual sound she shrugged.
"Never mind, it was just the wind…" Then, deciding that she'd rested quite long enough, she rose to her feet. "I'm gonna go lend a hand to Fell." As she walked off to find the leader of the Shadows the dog, who had taken up a position as little more than a mass of unmoving fur by the fire, sprang to his feet to trot happily after the girl.
Almost an hour had passed before Strider returned. Many of the Shadows who had gathered at fires scattered threw out the camp had begun to rise from their spots, some stretched, while others checked that their weapons were secure. Strider approached silently, her cloak and weapons had remained by the fire and now she gathered them up.
"Time to go." She told them, saying the same thing she'd said after their scouting of the garrison was done. Marek stood, checked his weapons on his belt, and shrugging his shoulder several times. Halt settled his quiver comfortably onto his shoulder, and Gilan fastened his sword to his waist. Strider pulled her cloak around her and fastened the clasp. Added to her long daggers at her right hip and thigh, she slid the dirk into her boot.
"This way," She said, leading the small group over to a crowd of Shadows that had gathered by the frail looking tree in the center of the clearing. Fell stood atop a small boulder, overseeing the crowd. The Shadows were silent as they awaited for their leader to speak.
"Alright, we'll be assaulting the garrison tonight, it's been retaken by the Cult, and were going to take it back. There are Knights, of Araluen trapped inside, and with us, here are Ranger's of Araluen." He got no further before he was interrupted.
"Ranger's?" Called a figure standing in the mass of Shadows. Halt had done a swift head count. There were only about fifteen in all.
Fell continued "Yes, were going to help them free their comrades from the-"
"Help them? Why should we help them? For all we know they might be our enemies as well. Who says they won't be keen to stab us in the back? We owe them nothing." The same Shadow was speaking.
Slightly irritated, Fell replied.
"Our fight lies with the Cult, not the Ranger's, or anyone else who serves King Duncan. Were in their forest, the least we could do is show a little bit of gratitude."
There was no reply to Fell's retort, and finally, he continued on with the details of the assault.
"We'll be split into two groups, group one will be led by me, group two by Strider. The Ranger's will call the start of the assault. Once their first arrows strike their targets, we move. Group two, you'll go first, you'll be attacking from the East and North walls, group one will follow after, from the West and South walls. Alright, split up."
Without another word the Shadows formed two even groups, moving to stand around their designated leaders for the assault. Strider turned the Ranger's, "Your with me, when we reach the garrison you'll be on your own."
A surge of excitement filled the party of Shadows, and they murmured amongst themselves before Fell called over them.
"Everybody stay sharp! Watch each other's backs', and try not to die. I don't like funerals!" There was a slight chuckle as Fell finished, then they began to move.
The group split, Fell led his own party out, and Strider followed behind them. Once they had reached the edge of the forest, Fell moved towards Strider, he put a hand on his deputy's shoulder, they locked gazes. They didn't speak, the silence some how did that for them. Fell nodded to his deputy, then he turned to lead his group off into the night.
"Stay close to me," She murmured quietly to the Ranger's before she began to trek threw the brush.
Halt's bow was drawn, an arrow nocked to the lightly oiled string. The feathered end brushed the corner of his mouth lightly. The arrows broad head gleamed in the moonlight, he had the arrow trained on the chest of a surly looking Cult who paced the Ramparts of the garrison.
The torches mounted in brackets on the rough wall of the garrison cast a glimmering yellow glow for the Ranger to shoot by. So far, he had yet to loose an arrow. He was perched on a sturdy branch in an oak tree, nestled comfortably in the fork of the branch. From where he was, he could see Gilan, The Shadows, and everyone in the garrison, at a glimpse. He'd spotted Cedric, and Strider had explained the Shadows plan of attack to the Ranger's once they had reached the garrison.
"You'll take first shot, once you've loosed your first arrow the Shadows will attack, we'll free the Knights as quickly as possible and try to make this battle short lived." After Strider had finished, she had slunk off towards the wall of the garrison. The rest of the Shadows were already in position for the attack. The heavy doors of the garrison were closed, but the Shadows had planned another way to barge into the garrison. They planned to scale the walls, and so far it didn't seem they would have much trouble doing so. The walls of the garrison had plenty of cracks and crevices in the masonry to serve as many hand and foot holds.
Bright white moonlight washed over the trees, Halt glanced up, clouds had scuttled away from the moon, he grimaced. There was a sharp hiss and a deep thrum as he let the bow string slip gently from his fingers. A black shafted arrow arced for one of the many Cult on the ramparts. The man screamed, and fell to the ramparts, a silence settled over him, the rest of the garrison suddenly erupted into chaos as the attack began.
Rowan was huddled close to Cedric, his wrists, arms, and shoulders all ached from the strain of having his hands bound behind his back for so long. He was afraid, and it seemed futile to try to hide the fear that was eating at him on the inside. He wondered what the men who had attacked the garrison planned to do with them. He silently prayed for a way out of the situation they were in.
Sooner than he thought, he prayers were answered. A man on the ramparts dropped from above, and landed alarmingly close to the Knights on his back. A long, black shafted arrow was embedded in his chest. He was dead.
Suddenly their were figures, moving along the ramparts, daggers gleamed in the moonlight. The night erupted into a battle.
Strider pulled herself over the wall, landing with both feet on the wooden ramparts. She drew her knives as a Cult spotted her. He drew his sword from his scabbard at his waist and charged for her. With her hood and mask up, she went on the defense. She crossed her long daggers to block the bandits first heavy down stroke. Then, moving quickly, she slid one of her blades free, and slammed the hilt of it into the side of the man's head. His eyes rolled back and he swayed sideways before falling from the ramparts.
Warily, Strider glanced over her shoulder, Glade had made it up the wall behind her, and now she ushered him towards the ladder.
"Let's free the Knights!" She shouted over the clashing of steel in the night. Reluctantly, Glade hurried after his mentor. The ramparts had already been cleared. More Shadows bustled along their lengths fighting their own battles. Strider slipped down the ladder swiftly, Glade following her precise movements.
They had just about reached the Knights, when a Cult member flung himself towards them.
"Keep going!" Strider yelled to Glade, her daggers were a silver arc to parry a sword stroke. Glade listened complied, swallowing hard as he moved to the Knights, he pulled down his face mask and tossed back his hood, showing the Knights he wasn't a ghost or a phantom, but a young boy. He pulled his dagger free of it's scabbard, the Knight nearest him looked frightened.
"I'm not gonna hurt you… No one wearing a cloak is going to. I promise…" Glade muttered reassuring words to the Knights as he slit their bonds in a brisk manor.
Once he was done he looked for his mentor, he spotted the familiar shape, fending off a Cult. The man was wielding a heavy looking broadsword, and every slash and cut that Strider blocked jarred from her fingertips to her shoulders. She clenched her teeth, staggering back several paces. Glade was prepared to help, but someone else beat him to it.
Cedric rose to his feet, his eyes hardening as he grabbed a sword from the pile of weapons in front of him. There were only a few swords, and Cedric hardly looked at his as his hand closed around the hilt.. He discarded the scabbard before he moved forward.
Strider took a final heavy down slash from her attacker, blocking it just in time. The force drove one of her blades from her hand. Her opponent wasted no time, he stepped forward and swung the hilt of his sword forward, it caught Strider in the jaw, the force of the blow sent her sprawling back in the dirt. The Cult might have killed her then and there if Cedric's sword had flicked out to block the man's next stroke.
There was a loud clang of steel on steel as their blades met and locked together. They stood hilt to hilt, body to body as some called it. Cedric took the moment and launched a heavy right hook at his opponent. It hit the man squarely in the chin, he dropped backwards, hitting the ground and falling into certain unconsciousness.
Cedric turned to see the fallen figure of Strider staggering to her feet. She waved a hand in thanks, and Cedric nodded in compliance. Without another moment to waste, Strider gathered her knives once more and ushered Glade towards her. Cedric watched as they slipped into the struggle of the skirmish. He didn't know who they were, but for the time being, they were allies, and they had a battle to fight.
Glade crossed his knives to block the poor side cut from the battered Cult before them. The mans short sword stopped mid swing as it clashed with Glade's own blades. Before the Cult could withdraw his short sword he was disarmed neatly by Strider. With a flick of her daggers she caught them under the swords hilt and jerked it out of the Cult members hand. Glade stepped forward and slammed the hilt of his right dagger into the Cults' temple. He dropped like a rock.
Around the garrison the remaining Cults' were meeting similar fates. The tide of the battle had turned, and now the Knights, along with the Shadows, were taking the upper hand. As the last Cult member slumped to the ground unmoving, the garrison fell silent.
Hesitantly, the Knights moved to one side of the garrison, putting distance between them and the mysterious fighters before them. After a quick look, Cedric realized that they really did look similar to ghosts, standing in the flickering firelight, their faces obscured by cloaks and masks.
Breaking the ranks of the cloaked figures Fell took the lead, he moved forward, and pushed back his cowl and tugged down his mask. To the Knights he looked perfectly human, though he was a little bit on the rugged side. Around him, the rest of the Shadows began to do the same. To the Knights relief, they all seemed to be human as well.
"I'm Fell, leader of The Shadows," He said, holding out a hand in greeting. He kept a friendly composure and Cedric decided to return the favor. The burly Knight stepped forward and shook Fell's hand.
"I'm Cedric, Battlemaster of Meric."
"Nice to- AH!" Fell staggered sideways, he pulled his right hand away from Cedric and clutched his right side. Pain lanced threw his side, beneath his cloak he could feel a splotch of growing wetness. He pulled his hand away, blood covered his hand. He swayed, the world twisted and spun, he vaguely remembered a slash to his side early on in the battle. He began to fall forwards, Cedric caught him, lowering him to the ground he could see the dark splotch on Fell's tunic.
Marek and Strider rushed forward, narrowly avoiding being trampled by the herd of Shadows that followed. Already there was sweat beaded on their leader's forehead, his eyes were beginning to glaze as the pain consumed him. Marek pushed Fell's cloak back, unclasping it. The tunic underneath was slit on the right side, and the cloak had concealed the full extent of the wound. Blood had seeped threw the tunic and run down Fell's side. Strider pulled the shirt up, revealing a ragged gash in Fell's side. It stretched from his naval down to waistline in a diagonal arc. From the looks of it, it wasn't very deep.
Cedric reached for his first aid kit, he'd brought it with him and stored it in a small pouch on his belt. It consisted of a decent amount of healing salve, a suture and thread, and a thick roll of bandages.
Fell reached out desperately, and he caught hold of Strider's forearm. He found her hand and held it tightly, he gritted his teeth against the pain. Strider could see the fear in her leader's eyes. Fell watched the world fade to black before his eyes.
The remaining wounded soldiers were tended to, the Ranger's had returned to the garrison, soon after Fell had collapsed. The surviving Cult Members had been tied up, some of them had even regained consciousness. They watched the Shadows and Knights threw narrowed eyes.
Besides Fell, there were only minor injuries among the warriors. One of them being Strider. Her upper arm had been slashed, and she'd roughly bandaged it once Fell was safely out of harms way. Her jaw ached painfully, and she could feel a bruise forming from where she'd been hit with the hilt of a sword. The Knights had been tended to, and the Ranger's had safely evaded harm.
To her relief the Ranger's had filled the Knights in on the major details of the Shadows. They seemed to feel better knowing that the Shadows meant them no harm. It made the Shadows feel better too, and they had mingled with the Knights, sharing stories of previous battles and their greatest acts.
"Have you had your jaw checked?" Halt asked her as she slumped down along the wall next to him. His voice has grim as ever, and Strider was beginning to see that he was a very quiet person.
She shrugged. "I don't think it's broken…" Strider had the blood of a thief and a liar, but she preferred to avoid the truth instead of lying threw her teeth when possible.
Halt could see that her half hearted reply was meant to avoid the truth, so he chose to take matters into his own hands. He could tell Strider was unsettled by her leaders sudden injury, and decided Strider could use the helping hand.
"I'm going to assume that's a no." He retorted, leaning closer to Strider to properly examine her jaw. He turned her chin up with his hand, she winced. His rough hand felt along the line of her jaw, all the while Strider gritted her teeth against the pain. Finally, he stopped.
"It doesn't seem to be broken." Halt informed her quietly as he finished.
Strider looked at him crossly, "You could have fooled me."
Halt ignored her, moving on to her injured arm, he unwound the inadequate bandages, and examined the wound closely. Strider fidgeted uncomfortably at his touch.
"Still," Halt warned her and Strider remained unmoving as the Ranger gently applied a healing salve and wrapped her arm in clean bandages. Once he had finished Strider thanked him and let out a long sigh. Her gaze wandered to the sky, and she watched the moon, admiring it's elegant beauty.
"When do you think you'll move back to the encampment?" Halt asked as he fletched an arrow that had been damaged during the battle..
"I'm not sure," Strider admitted, "Fell didn't really say what he wanted us Shadows to do. I guess it's really up to you. It's your garrison after all."
Halt took a moment to ponder his thoughts. Having the Shadows around would be handy if there was another attack, but just how loyal were they? There was no telling how far they would go to help the Knights, if they were not helping themselves.
"How long do you think Fell will let you stay?" Halt said finally.
"I think he wouldn't mind how long I stayed. He's got to rest, and until he's healed Kerjack's not going to let him out of his sight for anything. In turn, all Fell's responsibilities are going to rest on my shoulders for the time being." There was bitter displeasure in Strider's voice, and Halt cocked an eyebrow at her in question.
"You don't like responsibility?"
Strider looked uncomfortable, she stirred the dirt with one booted foot carefully.
"No, I don't. Responsibilities mean commitments, and commitments mean being civilized most of the time. Being civilized means abiding by laws, and never stepping out of line. That's definitely not me."
Amused, Halt continued to prod at Strider. "Then just how did you end up as the Shadows deputy?"
There was a dismissive shrug from Strider, and Halt almost didn't expect to get a reply. She gave vent to a long sigh, and for a moment Halt was reminded of a lost child.
"I have no idea."
The Shadows stayed the night, taking turns walking the ramparts and switching off as sentries with the Knights. The rest had gathered together around a fire built in the center of the garrison. It was small, but it served well as a cooking fire. The Knights made hearty stews, while the Shadows passed around a bag of apples and richly harvested coffee beans.
Cedric found the Shadows choices of meals rather depressing. He could hardly believe that they would decline a aromatic stew, to a cup of coffee and a ripe apple. Despite his doubts, Cedric didn't question them, he already found them odd enough. Of the oddest, Cedric had to say it was their deputy. The deputy happened to be a woman, a girl, he corrected himself. He found it hard to believe that the short, slightly built figure was a warrior of any sort, to say the least. Something about her simply did not sit right with Cedric, and he found it easy to distrust the girl.
The burly Knight was leaning against the masonry wall, seated underneath one of the wooden ramparts. He had just finished his first watch of the night, and was glad to be relieved of duty. Cedric as if he'd been dropped from the wall of the garrison, straight into solid dirt. Every part of him ebbed with pain. His muscles were sore and becoming stiff. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the shouting. Cedric's eyes snapped open, he located the source of the disruption with ease.
Roland was standing in front of a Shadow at least six inches shorter than himself. The smaller man's face was tight with anger, his eyes simmered with rage. Roland was in a similar state, and Cedric felt a sinking feeling. The last thing they needed was a fight, and he had a feeling he was just about to get one. Swiftly Cedric pushed himself to his feet, noticing the Knights of Meric gathering at Roland's back to support him, the Shadows were doing the same thing for their own comrade.
"Filthy thief!" Roland roared at the Shadow. Behind him, the Knights of Meric chorused their agreement.
"Murderous coward!" The Shadow yelled back. Now Cedric was closer, and could make out the words of the yells. He moved quickly, and to his surprise he saw the Shadows deputy calming her own soldiers. Strider slipped in between Roland and the Shadow called Jag. She looked hesitant, and put an arm around each mans shoulder. The gesture was awkward, She barely came up to Roland's shoulders in height. She smiled in spite of it.
"No reason to get overworked, it was just a game of dice, no big deal. It was all in good fun right?" Strider's words trailed off into silence. Roland shrugged her hand away from him and Strider took a step back from the Knight. He looked like he could snap Strider in half with one hand.
"Stay out of this," He snarled at her.
"Hey! Watch how you talk to our Deputy pig breath!" Jag started forward and Strider turned to stop him.
"Jag calm down, please, I don't want him to eat you." Strider held out her hands hopelessly and after a moment of consideration, Jag's shoulders fell slightly.
"Alright, fine." The dark haired Shadows looked away and Strider breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thanks Jag," she said, patting him gently on the shoulder.
"Looks like the Shadows aren't any better than their little girl here! Better not start a fight with them, she'll throw muffins at you!" Roland's yell rang out and Cedric stopped dead in his tracks.
Strider, who was still speaking to Jag, felt a stab of vicious rancor rise up inside of her like a flame.
"Wait just a damn second!" She said as she spun around to face Roland. She took several steps towards him and looked at him with an incriminating glare. Her eyes blazed with a dark anger.
"Look at you, you claim to be some kind of warrior, prancing around in the dark and stabbing people in the back! I don't think you could lift a sword, let alone swing it!"
"Well I wouldn't have to lift it very far to shove it up your-!" Strider's retort was cut short, someone had clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her abruptly. Cedric had rushed forward, barreling threw the crowd to stop Strider.
"Not another word," He hissed to Strider, his voice was something fiercer than venom.
Instead of abiding, Strider struggled against his grasp defiantly. She slammed her palm up into his chin, knocking his head back. He lost his grip on the girl and she slipped from his grasp with a lithe movement. Cedric felt hands grip his right arm. Already off balance, it only took a sharp tug on his arm to send him stumbling forward, Strider's foot stopped him. He tripped over her foot, and she let him go. Cedric landed face first in the dirt.
Strider's voice was quiet, any tone of anger was forgotten, replaced by an ominous cold demeanor that seemed oddly more frightening. "Were leaving,"
Nobody moved to stop the Shadows as they slipped silently from the garrison and into the forest. Roland helped Cedric to his feet, and the Battlemaster rubbed his chin awkwardly. He thought for a moment he may have underestimated the girl, then he decided he was wrong. She's just a girl lost in a man's world, nothing else.