Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 41

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Volume 4 Interlude 1.
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Interlude I

Mistakes

"Office: Department for the Management of Extra regional Resources, Camor

To: General Markou, Estan High Command (or Current Equivalent)

Subject: No More Troops.

To Whom it May Concern,

They say the plains people of the south are the fiercest warriors in the entire world, not because they're tactical geniuses or they have superior weapons- though the near mythical status of sunless steel is well earned- it's not even that they're superior horsemen- also a reputation well earned. The strength of the plains walkers comes in their teamwork and their ability to adapt to changing situations like water flowing down an embankment.

When you ask a soldier what it's like to serve in the Forgotten Lands, he will tell you there are no words to describe it. Having served here for almost a year and having skirmished with the locals more than a few times I'll do my best to express my impressions: Insanity.

If you could only see this place, you would understand why; fissures open the ground with little warning, magic lightning storms erase entire portions of land- and everything on it- at once and creatures roam that would make even dragons seem quaint by comparison.

No amount of swords, powered armor or cannon will subdue this roiling tumult and there will be no rampart tall or thick enough to make keeping a piece of territory worth the resources to be gained from doing so. Quite simply, the land won't be tamed and neither will its people.

It is time your department rethinks its goals. This is untenable."

Sincerely,

Colonel Docia Crane

5/390th Rock Crusher Infantry Regiment

Felicia

The village square was chaos.

Soldiers were fighting with men in plain clothes who themselves were chasing after Sarah and Lostariel. The soldiers and what Felicia could only assume were village militiamen were arguing and chasing one party or the other in hopes of being the first to get them- Sarah and her group were running about or making vague threatening motions to would-be attackers and more than once the half-elf leveled her pistol at Lostariel.

There were no right choices in such a grand melee. There was no person that could be singled out and spared and no one would prove beyond damnation when it was all said and done. Felicia knotted the twine braid that held her horse's reigns to the hitching post in the caravan's stall. She was insane for thinking she could stop this.

CRACK.

Sarah's pistol roared to life. Men scattered. Lostariel slipped between a pair of soldiers running at the half elf. No acrobatics, no flair or theatrics. She went straight for the jugular. A young handsome man dived in the way shoving Sarah out of the way and smashed his elbow into Lostariel's masked face. She tumbled backwards with it into the widening circle around the four and for a moment Felicia lost track of her.

Sarah and her companions scooted backwards themselves trying to get away from the press of fighting men, all the while she crammed some kind of rod down the barrel of her gun and when Lostariel made another appearance a few feet away the redhead was ready for it. She hefted her weapon and the two stared- they might have shared words for all Felicia knew.

One of the soldiers tried to catch Lostariel at her blindside. He grabbed her by the throat and she hammered his knee with her heel. In the next moment she was wheeling away with his sword. Some men went to recover their comrade and members of the militia tried to arrest them. The handsome man yanked Sarah back and scooped the elf that was with them into a jog away from the fighting. He had the best possible combat sense given the situation.

Sarah would be okay, Felicia promised herself. Still she wound the twine tight around her knuckles in worry. Lostariel was a murderer, but she was still a human being- she was still someone who'd survived the hardships of the north and didn't deserve to die to men like this.

Felicia glanced at her horse. There was no going back. . . .even the elder she'd met in the inn would have said the same thing. She dared touch the hilt of the kukri he'd given her. He'd given it to her with the intent it be buried like a warrior's weapon deserved, but it was needed now. . .

Not for the first time in her short life, Felicia wondered what the ancestors would think. But like so many times before, she put it out of her mind and got to work cutting the twine from the hitch so it was twice as long as her arm. She then used the remainder to tie a third length so it formed a trident shape, a quick search through the stable netted her a horse bit without a bridle and a suitably sized rock. As far as weights went they weren't ideal, but they would do.

The bit was heavy and in the ugly northern style that relied on thick rings of some kind of dense metal joined by a length of thin chain. Felicia took it back to the stall and broke it by leveraging the soon to be bola and the hook for her horse's feed pail. Once done she tied the rings to the longer lengths of rope and the rock to the center length. A quick tug assured her it was tight enough to work- even if it was probably going to be off balance.

There was no time to wonder about her own sanity any more, she was ready to accept her own diagnosis if it meant not losing one- or both- of the people she cared about. Naive. Stupid. Hopelessly lost in a 'civilized' world. . .

But she was a child of the plains, dammit. Her father couldn't take that away from her any more than these soldiers could have. Yes, this was the right thing to do; no one had to understand her choices so long as she could live with them. Knowingly putting her own life in her hands, she took the reigns of her horse and trotted out of the stable. She did a quick check to ensure her bags were securely fastened to his back and climbed up favoring her wounded arm.

It burned like hell all the way up.

This could only end well.

Felicia nudged her horse at a slow pace and took to the outside of the closest ring of houses so she could creep along without being spotted. Painfully she lowered herself against the horse and kept an ear out for any shifts in the fighting. There were shouts, cries and demands to stop but the tussling only continued.

She edged up around the first house and peeked, then trotted to the next one and the next. By the third house she got a bead on Sarah making her way from the fight with a couple of soldiers and local militia following- scuffling with one another more than actually chasing her. Lostariel wasn't far behind.

A fat man and a soldier from the city had some civilian man pinned down, both of them shouting at the other that it was their right to take the man in. The soldier had no patience for the bickering and punched the fat man before slitting the throat of the civilian prisoner. Felicia gaped at the behavior- how could he have done that?! Why?! A couple of other civilian men closed in on them to repay the death in kind but something stopped them.

The fat man was about to launch his own retaliation when he seemed to catch what the civilians did. He shouted at the soldier and his own men. "Her! Right there! The Diamond bitch!"

It took Felicia exactly two seconds to realize what he was talking about. Lostariel sprang into action. The militia men chasing after the soldiers went down without a word. She tumbled to the side. Sarah aimed her pistol. The soldiers turned to face the new threat, one only to catch sight of Lostariel throwing a blade his way. He pivoted to dodge.

A fatal mistake. Lostariel was in his space quicker than Felicia could blink. His blood arced through the air as he fell back. Lostariel was already wheeling on the remaining soldier and Sarah's companions had joined in to stop her. Sarah herself shouted something at her would be assassin. Voluminous strings of white magic sparked into existence around Lostariel but quickly broke when the woman pivoted her weight back.

She was impossibly graceful and even faster on her feet, yet the soldiers and militiamen who'd been scrabbling now recognized the real threat they faced. They gave chase. Felicia had only a second to make her choice.

As if there was one to make.

Felicia squeezed against the horse to start him off at a canter- lazy but time demanded it- they plowed ahead into a gallop, furiously racing against the seconds burning away. Around the melee that was becoming an organized chase. After Lostariel.

An elf woman and a short man in a hooded robe beside Sarah both seemed to be directing some kind of magic at Lostariel. Spells flickered into existence and splashed off her leathers with no visible effect. Sarah shouted a command for her to stop. The handsome man had his blade in a ready guard.

She was short but the way she prowled towards them made her a wraith in broad daylight. Something to be feared, even with the height difference. The soldier and the handsome man took to one another's side as Lostariel tossed the sword she'd picked up like it was a toothpick. She drew her shorter blade, twirled it. Tossed it up and launched off.

Neither of the men were distracted. Neither bought her ruse. They took to different angles to pin her into the center of a cross. There was only a moment to react and Felicia took the chance the best and only way she could: she spun her bola over her head with her good arm and urged her horse onward.

Lostariel was already surging forward- she'd never stop in time.

They all knew it, too. Even Sarah's eyes went wide. Was that regret?

Felicia wound her hand, took aim and loosed the familiar hunting tool. Her shoulder screamed as she drew the elder's kukri and shouted: "Not her life!"

The younger man glanced up, pausing that precious second for the bola to helicopter through the air- he seemed taken aback but in the next instant the weights were wrapping around Lostariel's calves. One step. She realized something was wrong. Another step and she was plummeting to the ground. She landed with a graceful roll and the soldier tried to meet her.

Felicia rode right up to him. The horse jerked back in fear at the clash of steel and curse from the man- she held tight to the reign. "Get back!" She screamed as she brandished the kukri. The horse started to rear back, trying to run away. "Easy, easy-"

"The fuck are you doing?!" The soldier shouted. He looked between the horse and Felicia trying to gauge his chances. The handsome man had the good sense to back away as Felicia carefully nudged her horse between Sarah's group and the downed assassin.

"Get up!" The girl shouted to Lostariel. The woman was already rolling over her hand, launching to a stand after she'd cut the bola free. She didn't try to join Felicia immediately- Not even after seeing the large group of men now closing in on them. "You're not killing her!"

That earned a chuff of irritation. The soldier and Lostariel both tried to close in and bring her down. She jerked her horse to the side just a bit to spook him. It was enough that he shook his snout one way and the other, batting into the man as his flank slammed Lostariel nearly off her feet. He almost stepped on her but she managed to scramble out of the way in time.

Sarah chose that moment to interject; "Felicia, dear! Not that it's not pleasant to see you-"

"Go! RUN!"

"Good enough!" Without waiting for another invitation she scooped up the short robed man and scurried off with her companions. The handsome man stared daggers at her but, seeming to sense the change in attitude of the mob, decided it was best to leave.

Felicia thrust out her arm to Lostariel, still brandishing the kukri with her off hand and doing no one any safe favors by letting her horse jostle her one way and the other. It was insanely dangerous to everyone around but she wasn't going to leave her friend to the mob.

No one was going to die today.

As if challenging her new found resolve a crossbow thocked sharply and a bolt slammed into her pack. The horse pivoted sharply from the pressure of the impact and only by an act of extremely careful maneuvering on Felicia's part did he miss crushing the soldier when he tried to bolt. Girl and horse shrunk low before he launched off at a gallop. Just when Felicia was about to clutch the reigns Lostariel grabbed her bicep and hauled herself up.

This scared the horse even more.

Felicia shoved the blade into its scabbard, took the reigns and lowered herself. All she could do was suggest their direction. The horse weaved around the men who tried to attack. They threw rocks, weapons, shot crossbows at them. To them Felicia was an enemy. An aid to killers and she needed to be put down like one. But Lostariel was counting on her. She knew that they were in this together now, when the woman grabbed Felicia's waist her heart surged. They could tackle it together.

They could survive.

Leaving a yellow trail of dust in their wake, the horse charged at a full gallop through the space between a pair of houses. Felicia carefully influenced him the direction they needed to go to minimize running into anyone- in seconds they crossed into the main caravan road leading out of town. All the while Felicia tried her best to calm the horse. Whispering didn't do much, a firm hand didn't either.

Men clamored after them shouting curses to little effect but when she peeked back Felicia could see that some of the civilian combatants had disappeared. The two women rode on until the poor horse was practically heaving with effort which didn't take long. He wasn't a plains horse, he had limits.

But at the very least it wore out his energy and his will to run away, allowing Felicia some measure of control again. Around them were swaths of farmland with modest wheat crops ill suited for hiding, but Felicia kept looking as her mind raced. Lostariel was quiet all the while, simply holding on to her waist until finally the girl looked back at her.

"You expect gratitude," she said flatly.

"W- We need to find a place to hide. Then we can talk about what I expect. . ."

"Up there, then. Down the road, there's a path between some hedges. . ."

Felicia followed the trail at a reasonable clip despite her horse's panting. She found the narrow dirt path and followed it until it wound down over a rolling hill to a valley basin which then swelled up to a plateau after some time. When they got to the top Felicia was vaguely startled by the graveyard laid out around them. It centered on a lavish stone crypt with rows of common markers poking out like spokes on a wheel. Outside of the crypt, a simple stone altar punctuated the decidedly religious theme of the place.

"I- Is this safe?"

"As safe as is right to expect." Lostariel jumped down smoothly and took off her faceless mask. Her hair was thick with sweat and clinging to her scalp but her eyes were sharp, intensely focused on Felicia. She looked equal parts ready to hug the girl and stab her to death and bury her with the others. She turned away in a sharp motion and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Felicia climbed down with considerable difficulty on to legs that weren't even remotely ready to hold her up. She slumped to the ground some feet away, clutching her knees to her ample, sweating chest. That was too much for anyone to have endured. The roads weren't going to be safe to travel in the coming days and if she was caught. . .

Gods only knew what'd happen to her then. Still. She had done what was demanded of her, there was no question of right and wrong or being damned by the consequences. There was only retaining your pride and self-respect or compromising it. She'd done what she knew had to be done.

At that thought she allowed herself a smile.

"I don't see what you think is funny."

"You don't have to," Felicia said softly. She looked up at the woman as though it was the first and last time, finally she said. "I won't let you kill her. . ."

Lostariel's left eye twitched. Just once. She exhaled through her nose in a sharp derisive sigh. "You speak as though I'm going to give you a choice. That won't happen every time."

Felicia considered for just a moment- maybe it was the adrenaline still surging through her body, or maybe it was the weight of the elder's kukri, maybe it was the self confidence of her success that brought forth the mouth full of stupid: "I just saved your life, I could have let the mob tear you apart but I didn't. . . .maybe I can't stop you next time but I want to try."

That earned her a flat, uninspired look that told Felicia she was sliding back into the 'kill and bury' mentality.

"I want you to teach me to stop you! I'm a quick learner and I don't complain, you know we're friends by now and-"

"Teach you-" she clenched her hands into fists. That calm demeanor cracked a little and her normally pale cheeks took on a shade of red. "You just cost me-"

"I saved your life."

"You don't. . . .you-" Lostariel turned away again with another exhale. She alternated looking at the ground and sky for several long moments before she finally looked over her shoulder. Her voice was an icy whisper fitting her northern heritage. "The Ace of Diamonds has never failed a job, not once in all her years. . . .now you're going to stain that name. For what, so you can feel superior?"

"I- no! No! I was trying to protect you both!"

Lostariel crouched down several feet away, taking her blade between her fingers with the kind of stoicism that wouldn't have looked out of place on a statue. "Go on. . ." Her fingers slid up the blade so she was holding it with the tip to her palm. All the while she watched the little Mawik girl.

"S- She's not perfect, okay. Fine. But neither are you- but you're both my friends. I can't let my friends kill each other! Those men knew who you were and they were going after you and. . ." Felicia leaned forward with trembling knees. She clutched two hand fulls of grass between them. "I haven't seen grass like this, Lostariel. Where I come from grass is purple and blue; they say it's because we don't stain it with our own blood like the northerners do. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

A flick of the wrist. A sliver of reflected light. The blade bit into the dirt between her hands only an inch away from her thumb. Felicia didn't dare move as the assassin held her gaze with unfeeling purple eyes, waiting for the woman to once more pass judgment on her and her right to life. Finally, and with such deliberate slowness that Felicia almost missed her movements, Lostariel slid into the girl's space. Her voice was calm, detached, inhuman:

"I am not going to train my replacement, I am young enough to do this job and I am not prepared to die for you. . ."

"I- I don't want to replace you. I want to stop you. . ." Felicia swallowed. "Please?"

Lostariel let out a chuff of irritation like a cat dismissing a piece of food. "The courage you have won't keep you safe any more than any skill I can teach you. You've ruined the reputation I've kept and then you ask me for my help? You should be begging me for your life by right."

"S- So wh-" Felicia stopped herself. "W- What if. . ." She licked her lips. "What if I help you find Sarah? But you give me the chance to stop- Hrk!" Lostariel grabbed her throat, wrenched her painfully to her feet and then further up so she was standing on her tip toes. Felicia grabbed the woman's arm and tried to pull herself free but for all her best efforts Lostariel held her firmly, ensuring she had the girl's undivided attention.

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