Panacea looked around frantically in the early morning light, trying to find something; anything, that she could use to help her friend. But the underground chamber was bare. Other than dirt and loam, it was completely empty; void of anything useful. She turned back to her injured companion.

The sound of patrols searching for them in the forest had lasted all the night. Some came very close; so close that Panacea held her breath for fear of being heard. But the little chamber was well hidden, and they were left unfound.

Now that the sun had risen, and a few faint rays had found there way down into their shelter, she could finally see, instead of just feel and hear, Cacofonix's condition. He looked horribly pale, almost white. The tremors and uneven breaths hadn't gotten any better, but they hadn't gotten any worse either. Small blessings.

Panacea had managed to carefully strip the bard of the clunky, uncomfortable Roman armor. She noted with surprise that he was clothed all in white; one of Getafix's robes, cut to his size. It looked odd; Cacofonix dressed in anything other than his blue and white checkered tunic, but she had something more important to think about than that. Spreading against the snow white material a dark, crimson spot was forming. It soaked into the fabric, growing in size as the bleeding continued. It wasn't as bad as Panacea had first thought, but it was still a lot of blood.

Panacea cursed under her breath. It was exactly as she had feared. When she had first felt the blood coming from the bard's side, she had torn some cloth from her dress and attempted to staunch the flow. All the while not knowing how much he was draining, and how serious the wound was. She hadn't been able to get a look at it in the dark.

Now, in the morning light, she carefully exposed the injury and could see that the wound itself was old. In fact, it shouldn't even be bleeding at all at its stage of healing. Looking closer, she realized it wasn't a puncture mark, nor a fracture like she had feared. It was a burn. A really bad burn. Tears sprang to the woman's eyes as she realized what must have happened. Cacofonix must have been in his hut when the fire hit after all! He had been inside! Her anger toward the Romans was fed by the sight of her pale friend, struggling to even take in a steady breath. He was in pain; hurt. And it was all Spacious's fault. She looked down at the bard. Cacofonix had risked his life to rescue her, even when he was like this.

But he was alive. They both were. She was away from the Roman camp; away from Spacious. The commander no longer had a hostage, which meant the rest of the Gauls could finally fight without risking her life. That must have been the plan. Now, she and Cacofonix were supposed to wait for the coast to be clear. So, now the question was, when would that be? And how would they know?

Cacofonix was in bad shape. Panacea just hoped he'd be alright long enough for them to be able to make it back to the village.

...

"Good morning, Gauls," Commander Spacious grinned. He and his men were once more assembled outside the village walls. He looked as smug as ever; as evil and ruthless. But something was off. There was a hint of something in his face that hadn't been there before. Asterix couldn't quite place it. Of course, he couldn't see that well either. He was standing back and to the side on top of the parapet, out of sight of the Romans below. It wasn't time to show himself; not yet.

"So, at last, we come to the day," the commander continued. He chuckled nastily. "Gauls, I have come for your answer yet again. Will you surrender?"

The Gauls gathered on the wall top frowned down on the man who had made their lives so miserable the past week. The man who had tortured their minds with fear and worry. This was it. No more cowering. They were ready to fight back.

Vitalstitistix stepped forward, glaring down at the Roman commander, meeting his cold gaze. "No. We will not surrender." He said it calmly; firmly. Leaving not a doubt in anyone's mind that he was serious.

"You're making a mistake..." Spacious warned playfully. But again Asterix saw an unknown emotion shadow the commander's features. Fear? Worry? "You're going to regret it. You know," he added matter-of-factually, "I have two hostages now whose lives depend on your decision. If you refuse, they'll both die."

The Gauls all froze. It couldn't be, could it? That Spacious had captured Cacofonix as well? Maybe he had...During the night, the Gaulish guards had seen the forest lit with the glow of many Roman torches. Everyone in the village knew that that meant the bard was escaping with Panacea...But what if they hadn't made it? What if the Romans had captured them. Then they didn't have a chance.; not in a million.

"Your rescuer wasn't quite what I was hoping he'd be," Spacious taunted, "I was hoping for someone a little more of a challenge, not some thin little man who couldn't even hold his own." He smiled evilly. "You're all out of options. There's nothing else you can do. Trapped and defeated. Now, are you going to surrender, or are you bent on joining your little friend, Asterix, in death?"

"I think it's time I joined them in life," Asterix declared, stepping forward and into full view of the Romans below. A gasp of shock ran through the soldiers, as they all took a step backward in surprise, breaking rank. Even Spacious, who had up until now retained his nonchalant attitude, looked completely stunned.

"You're lying, Commander," Asterix called down. "You don't have any hostages."

Spacious seemed to regain his composure. "And what makes you say that, Asterix?" The villain spat his name with hatred and contempt. He was smiling once more, but his eyes spoke volumes. He wanted nothing more than to murder the little Gaul where he stood.

"You're a man who likes to gloat over his victories," Asterix replied. He motioned down toward the ground below him. "For the past week, every time you have come to meet with us, you've brought Panacea with you. To let us see that we were losing. If you had caught Panacea and Cacofonix, you would have them here, where we could see them. Where are they, Commander? I don't see them." He smiled. "I think you're bluffing...I know you are."

Commander Spacious's smile became a belittling sneer. All the fake niceties fell away, leaving only pure hatred and evil. His dark orbs glinted with an unpleasant light. "YOU'LL ALL DIE!" he screeched, face red and eyes wide. The smile returned, only now it reflected only pure insanity. He laughed crookedly. "What can you do; you little worthless barbarians. You're nothing but a thorn in our side! Insects to be stomped out! WHAT CAN YOU DO?!"

"We can fight!" Asterix raised his voice, "OBELIX, NOW!"

The gate to the village was slammed open wide, almost knocked clear of its mighty hinges. The Roman soldiers' eyes opened wide fearfully. At first, all they could see was a cloud of dust in the gateway, but then as it settled, they beheld the huge, menacing shape of Obelix, the biggest Gaul in the village.

Asterix moved down the parapet steps as quickly as he could. He was feeling better today, as he had expected, but he still felt weak and shaky. Making it to the bottom of the stairs, he snatched the small, green gourd from his belt and uncapped it. He took a large swallow of the magic potion from within it, and at once felt the change. He could feel it run down his throat and hit his stomach, filling him with a warmth; a light. Energy seemed to course through every vein of his body, strengthening him. It was a feeling he had sorely missed. It meant they weren't helpless any more. All the fear and self-hate diminished in that second, leaving only confidence and determination.

Asterix joined his friend's side in the gateway. The little Gaul gave a nod, and with a burst of superhuman energy, they ran full force out the gate like a whirlwind. The Romans were panicked before they even reached them.

"Alright, everyone get out there!" Vitalstitistix shouted to the other Gauls, leading the way, sword drawn, down from the parapet. A moment later, they were all outside the village fighting with all their hearts and souls. Freedom was a possibility now. Hope had turned from a weak glimmer to a strong pulsating desire. They were going to win this! The Gauls chased, pummeled, and threw the soldiers in every direction, even without the magic potion. The joy they were feeling fueled them, giving them strength that was equal, or even more so, to the power of the potion. The Romans squealed and ran, frightened out of their wits that their victims had suddenly turned the tables on them.

The Gauls were careful not to hurt their enemies; at least, not any more than they usually would. Bruises and black eyes was the extent of their violence. Though it was hard to keep it to that level. After everything that had happened the last week; all the things they had suffered through, it was difficult not to do more harm. But they would never stoop as low as these people. Never.

Even Obelix found it easier to remember to not 'hit too hard', as Getafix had warned him. The intense anger he had before had diminished to an annoyance. He had exited the village feeling angry, but also afraid. Afraid that he would lose control again. He understood that these soldiers were only taking orders. Perhaps, like Anxious, there were others who opposed Spacious's work. It was the Commander who was the real evil. Obelix was still angry with him. Real angry. But these soldiers were just followers. And so, holding back on his strength, Obelix found himself smiling as he felt his body return to an activity that finally felt normal. He gave a Roman guard a 'light tap' which sent the poor fellow flying up right out of his sandals. Obelix actually laughed. Not a cruel laugh, not even a mean or unfriendly laugh. It was a laugh of relief. All the painful emotional hurt seemed to collapse in on itself; disappearing. He was just plain, old Obelix again. This long, dark week was finally coming to an end. Everything was going to go back to normal. Everything was going to be alright.

Spacious looked about him with a strangely calm demeanor. His hateful eyes took in the battle as he saw every ounce of his plan crumbling to nothing. All his scheming; all his plotting, had been in vein. His men were surrendering left and right. Some because they were knocked flat by the Gauls, while others simply threw down their weapons, wanting to be spared a beating. Spacious glared about him as though his very gaze might burn a painful wound into his enemies. He was angry. Not the rightful anger that the Gauls felt; not the childish anger of a sore loser; not even the slow, stewing anger of a grudge. No, this was a much stronger anger. A burning, consuming rage that grew like a quiet storm. A madness; hatred that promised death. An insanity.

The commander reached out and grabbed a spear from a fleeing soldier, snatching it to his chest, eyes burning with a bloodshot fire. And then, suddenly, he was gone. Like a dark mist, he just disappeared. And, at the moment, no one realized he was missing.

The struggle didn't last long. Most of the Romans fled the scene, running back to any number of the various outposts in the vicinity. Others, who weren't so lucky, lay in miserable heaps of dust and bruises, thoroughly defeated. The Gauls were so exhilarated by the fight that it took them a good five minutes or so before they realized that the brawl was over. They stood outside the gate of their village, blinking about them. The place was a mess. Dented Roman helmets were strewn all over. Swords, spears, breastplates, and other weapons and regalia lay abandoned in the dirt. The soil itself was disturbed, trodden by the feet of many people.

Slowly, it started to sink in. It was over...They were free. One by one, the Gauls' faces began to light up in joyful, relieved grins. The weight of stress from the past several days left so quickly it made them feel dizzy. Someone started to chuckle and soon they were all laughing. Relief and joy mixed with exhaustion. The men turned to the womenfolk up on the parapet wall of the village and waved in triumph and a cheer went up from the spouses, girls, and children.

They had won.

Getafix moved to Asterix's side at once. The little Gaul was breathing heavily, and leaning against Obelix for support, but he was smiling. The magic potion was starting to work its way out of his system, leaving him tired and worn. But that didn't matter to Asterix. He was happier than he had been since the beginning of the week when this whole ordeal had first started.

Obelix carefully set Asterix down until he was sitting on the ground and Getafix crouched beside them. The druid looked concerned, and began checking his friend over carefully.

"Getafix, I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Asterix sighed and let the druid do his work. After several minutes, Getafix finished and sat back with a look of relief on his bearded face. "You are exhausted and still recovering from blood loss, Asterix." He smiled. "But you are 'fine' besides that." He lay a hand on the blond Gaul's uninjured shoulder. "Well done."

Everyone left in the village came down and out. Families hugged and friends shook hands and clapped each other's backs. For the first time since what felt like forever, things were finally looking up. And the happiness that shone in their hearts was incomparable to anything else they had ever felt before.

Suddenly, from the crowd of rejoicers, someone shouted, "Look! Over there!" They all turned and gasped.

Panacea emerged from the forest. She was dirty, her clothes were ripped and stained, and her hair was frizzed and untidy. But what caught everyone's attention wasn't her appearance; it wasn't even the plea for help on her face. It was the pale form she was trying to support. Cacofonix.

The bard looked even worse than she did, and he could barely stay upright. He no longer wore Anxious's armor, and even from afar, the red blotch on his side was visible against the dirty white of Getafix's robe.

Several Gauls ran forward to help; Getafix, Unhygenix, and Fullautomatix among them. They reached the two escapees just as Panacea's strength gave out, catching both her and Cacofonix as they fell. Getafix moved to Panacea first, as she was a woman; but the girl gave a tired wave of her hand.

"No...I'm all right. Just tired...Help Cacofonix."

The druid nodded and turned to the bard, who was sitting on the ground supported by Fullautomatix's strong hands to keep him from falling backwards. Cacofonix was awake, though far paler than Getafix liked to see. His breathing was ragged and shallow, but he was breathing, and that was always good. Despite his obviously perilous condition, Cacofonix was giving him a rather sheepish grin. The druid leaned forward and carefully pulled the bard's hands from his injured side, chiding softly all the while.

"Cacofonix, I distinctly remember telling you not to go out alone." He moved his hand gently over the injury and pulled back when the bard flinched. "I told you you'd have a relapse."

"Yeah," Fullautomatix added angrily. If Cacofonix had been in better shape, the blacksmith might have beamed him. "You idiot! Don't you know you could have gotten yourself killed?!" His words were harsh but his tone was filled with worry. Cacofonix knew he didn't mean it. He gave his larger friend a apologetic smile. That melted Fullautomatix at once and all he could do was give the bard's shoulder a comforting pat.

"The burn in his side is bleeding again," Getafix surmised, even though anyone present could have come to the same conclusion. "But it isn't serious. But he needs rest. Help me bring him inside."

Carefully, Fullautomatix and Unhygenix helped the bard to his feet. He could barely stand on his own, but he was willing to try. They each gripped his arm and assisted him in moving him forward while the others helped with Panacea.

The woman gave a smile, which grew stronger when she saw Asterix, alive. One would have thought she would have been more surprised, but she wasn't. Even when her mind had told her over and over that Asterix couldn't be alive, her heart had refused to believe it. She was so happy, she could have hugged them all, but her exhaustion kept her where she was; safe in the hands of her friends.

Something seemed to be bothering Obelix though. He was still standing beside Asterix, but his face was stuck in a worried frown.

"What's wrong?" Asterix asked in a strained voice as he attempted and slowly succeeded in raising to his feet.

Obelix was looking from side to side, his panic visibly growing. "Where's Commander Spacious?!"

"Right here."

The cruel voice made everyone freeze. Turning as one, the Gauls were greeted by the sight of Commander Spacious. He was standing to the right of them, effectively cutting off the path back to the safety of the village. He had emerged from his hiding place, standing glaring at them evilly, a spear gripped in his hand so tightly, his knuckles were whitened by the force. He was smiling, like he always did, but this time it was different. Something was wrong. It was as though every ounce of human sanity had left him. All that was left was a monster, craving to tear them limb from limb.

"You fools," he cackled, moving forward and brandishing the spear. "You idiots! You thought you could defeat me? ME! HA! YOU ARE ALL GOING TO DIE! EVERY MAN, WOMAN, AND CHILD OF YOU!" His voice rose in pitch as his madness began to take over. "YOU'RE NOTHING BUT INFERIOR BEINGS! WORTH NOTHING, LIKE INSECTS!" Several Gauls had to jump back to avoid the weapon. Spacious's bloodshot eyes wandered over the Gauls. He took in their frightened faces, the people holding up Panacea and that bard. His eyes came to rest on Asterix. The orbs shone with such madness and pure hatred that Asterix found he was actually frightened. "AND YOU!" Spacious hissed like a snake, "YOU WILL BE THE FIRST TO DIE!" The commander gripped his spear and marched toward Asterix menacingly.

Obelix quickly placed himself in front of his friend, despite Asterix's pleas for him to move. Obelix wasn't about to stand by and watch his best friend be killed. Not again. Not when he could do something about it. The others stood by helplessly. They knew Obelix had the strength of twenty men, but that would do little against the deadly point of a spear. Obelix was still a man. But Obelix didn't care. If him getting hurt meant saving Asterix's life, then he'd do it.

Spacious raised the spear in his hand, preparing to plunge it into the biggest Gaul's heart.

"NO!"

Something smashed into the commander with the force of a wild bear. It threw him to the ground, spear flying from his grasp. His attacker struggled against him, trying to pin him down, but his movements were weak; uncoordinated. Spacious found it fairly easy to throw his assailant off of him and to the ground. The commander scrambled to his feet, eyes wide and full of anger. He was surprised, even in his maddened state, to find that it was the bard.

Snatching up his spear, Spacious spun on his heal, brandishing his weapon toward the Gauls who had stepped forward to help their friend. "Stay where you are!" the commander screeched. He gave Cacofonix a vicious kick in the side when the bard tried to rise, causing him to gasp and moan as the air was driven from his lungs. Again, some of the Gauls stepped forward, but Spacious yelled, "Stay back!" The Gauls flinched, their eyes full of fear, and Spacious grinned to see it. "You all ruined my plans!" he growled. "But I will not be defeated! Surrender or I WILL KILL HIM!"

Cacofonix's eyes were watering with the pain in his ribs. The lunatic had managed to get him right in his injured side. It throbbed terribly, and he still couldn't seem to catch his breath. The bard saw the look of anguish in his friends eyes. The same anguish that he had seen on their faces all week long. Then they had been afraid for Panacea; this time it was for him. Spacious was still using the same tactic. He had the Gauls hands tied, knowing they couldn't stand by and watch one of their own killed in front of their eyes. Spacious thought they couldn't do anything about it...and maybe they couldn't. But Cacofonix could.

Pulling back his legs, the bard forced his feet into the back of Spacious's knees with as hard a kick as he could manage. Unfortunately, his weakened condition made his attempts less than adequate. The kick was only sufficient in knocking of the Commander's balance for a moment, before he whirled around, eyes burning with intense anger. "YOU LITTLE-" Raising the spear, he brought it down with tremendous force before anyone could do a thing. Cacofonix barely had time to shift his position slightly; the spear piercing right through his shoulder instead of his heart where Spacious had intended. The weapon pinned him to the ground with a thump.

"AH!"

The agonized scream launched the Gauls out of their shocked stupor, and several men jumped forward to latch onto the commander and haul him away from the bard. Spacious scratched and bit like a wild beast, screeching all the while.

"YOU CAN'T WIN! YOU'LL ALL DIE! EVERY ONE OF YOU! YOU CAN'T DEFEAT ME-"

BAMM!...Thump!

The commander fell to the ground in a heap, four feet from where he had been standing before Obelix hit him. The big Gaul had had enough. Spacious was a monster. He was a lunatic. He was a danger. And Obelix had had enough. Spacious lay unconscious, not dead. Obelix had managed to keep control of his anger, holding back, but not as much as he usually did. He let a little more strength current through the blow, and no one argued whether that was right or not. They all agreed that Spacious deserved it.

While a few Gauls started to haul the Roman toward the village where they could lock him up, the rest gathered around Cacofonix. The bard was writhing in agony as wave after wave of excruciating pain swept through his body.

"Oh, by Toutatis..." Unhygenix breathed, as he and Fullautomatix tried to keep their friend from injuring himself further. Getafix was by their side, working to help their already injured friend.

"Cacofonix!" Getafix's voice sounded far away and hazy. "It's alright. You're going to be alright!"

The bard knew he was starting to black out as his vision began to turn grey and blurred. But even in his perilous condition he realized something. Something so wonderful he almost forgot the pain. From his position on the ground, he looked up into the worried faces of his friends and gave a weak smile. His voice was so soft it was a wonder anyone could hear it at all.

"I-I've got m-my voice...b-back..."

Everything went dark.

...

One more chapter to go! :)

I would have gotten this chapter up sooner, but I lost internet just as I wrote the last sentence and lost the whole thing. I spent all last night and this morning rewriting it. HOPE YOU LIKE IT! :)