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▇▇▇▇▇Sterling was surprised at how easily Marcus heeded her. She had expected at least a comment of objection, but maybe that just meant that her guard found her capable. Fine with her. She wiped the sweat and tears from her eyes with the back of her bloody, shining hand, and then dodged the swipe of a paw. She whispered again and her arm brightened back into a flaming torch of pure light, rising off of her in thin tongues like flame. The creature took a step back, repelled by the brightness of the light. Baldor rocked forward on his toes, readying to attack.
▇▇▇▇▇“Baldor, no!” she barked, “Let me.”
▇▇▇▇▇The giant looked uneasy, but eased off, still tense and as present as a man of his size usually was. She had the feeling that he would take Marcus’s word over her own. He would protect her whether she wanted him to or not. Some of the soldeirs, too, were running in to ‘help’. She would have to be quick. Others, however, hung back, she noted, reticent to strike now that their own safety was not so much of an uncertainty.
▇▇▇▇▇The creature, tired of waiting, twitched its tail and then lunged at her. She leapt and rolled, crying softly as dirt and pine needles ground into her open wound. Baldor looked ready to jump. Back on her feet, she held her hand out to him to signal that he should stop. The creature spun and stalked towards her once again, like a cat following a string. She raised the light bright light again, and it slowed, and then cried out its strange, echoing birdsong. It was not so confident as the other two. There it was. It stopped, hesitating, and she dropped her sword and lifted her hand, whispering to the wind, weaving the spell over it tightly, like a rope. She didn’t want it to wake up too soon. It stood still for a moment, staring at her as though in a drunken stupor, captured by her beautiful weaving of words. Then, suddenly, it seemed to realize what she intended and roared loudly, lionish, before lunging towards her ferociously. She pulled the rope taught, shouting out the last of her spell. The creature seemed to stumble, and then fell, sliding to a halt at her feet. It was over.
▇▇▇▇▇There was a pause the space of a breath, and then a thumping sound, like a man had been slapped heartily on the back. Sterling looked just in time to see the closest twelve soldiers fall over. Baldor fell too, nearly shaking the earth with the thunder of his collapse. Damn. She was out of practice. She sighed.
▇▇▇▇▇“Witch!” cried Curtis, suddenly leaping to action. “You killed them!”
▇▇▇▇▇It was at about this moment that Marcus rejoined them, dragging what could have been mistaken for the evening hunt.
▇▇▇▇▇“They’re only asleep,” she said, mostly to Marcus.
▇▇▇▇▇She was anticipating a bad reaction from what was, at the moment, apparently a very bad-tempered Marcus.
▇▇▇▇▇“They’re not dead,” she clarified to Curtis.
▇▇▇▇▇Sterling’s arms were trembling with pain and exertion. She probably looked a bit worse for the wear as it was-- bleeding, scratched, muddy, bruised, with her hair tangled up in sticks and leaves and clots where she’d been scratched. Marcus didn’t look much better, but the blood he wore made him look noble and dangerous. His face currently said more of the latter. Meanwhile, Curtis sneered and stomped towards her, his sword still in his hand.
▇▇▇▇▇“If I’d been told I was out in the god-forsaken forest to escort a witch, I’d of burned you before we left! You brought this on us!” Curtis yelled.
▇▇▇▇▇Sterling gave him a sharp look of annoyance.
▇▇▇▇▇“Sleep is a common spell,” she said testily.
▇▇▇▇▇“Not like that it ain’t. Half the time it can’t settle a restless babe, and you want me to believe that that’s the same as you used to fell twelve of my men, plus a giant and hellish terror to boot?!”
▇▇▇▇▇Clearly he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. She ignored him for a moment, instead focusing on the arcanist. She leaned over and tugged the hood from the face of the limp figure. Her face betrayed surprise, and then cool contempt.
▇▇▇▇▇“I didn’t do this” she said, gesturing to the piles of men and beasts. “But I think I might know who did.”
▇▇▇▇▇She turned back to the arcanist.
▇▇▇▇▇“Lean him up against a tree for me please,” she said to Marcus “And tie him there.”
▇▇▇▇▇“And what the hell is that?”
▇▇▇▇▇“A wizard,” said Sterling in calmly “Or at least that’s what he’d like to think he is.”
▇▇▇▇▇Curtis looked back at the soldiers around him with a can you believe this? sort of look.
▇▇▇▇▇“Tholdrove warned us about you,” said Curtis suddenly. “He said you were coldhearted and manipulative and that this mission would finally rid the world of your scourge. I guess we can add witchcraft to that list.”
▇▇▇▇▇“Shut up, Curtis,” Sterling said suddenly, unable to bear much more of his talking. “Killing you wouldn’t be a difficult thing. Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.”
▇▇▇▇▇Curtis paused, uncertain, apparently realizing for the first time that his sword probably wouldn’t help him much if she wanted him unconscious like the others.
▇▇▇▇▇“As it stands now, I have no plans to kill anyone in the company.”
▇▇▇▇▇She straightened and looked him dead in the eye.
▇▇▇▇▇“But keep testing me and that might change.”
▇▇▇▇▇“Is that a threat?” asked Curtis, sneering again.
▇▇▇▇▇“Yes,” said Sterling in a dangerous tone.
▇▇▇▇▇As if on cue, the wind stirred and caught her cloak in a billow of wind. Bloody, dirty, and glowing, she seemed like a feral ghost. The effect was unsettling. Curtis shifted.
▇▇▇▇▇“Go and see to your dead and your wounded,” she said softly. “I’m not your enemy.”
▇▇▇▇▇Curtis looked at her with a hard expression, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not.
▇▇▇▇▇“And that b*****d,” said Curtis, gesturing to the arcanist, “Is he the enemy?”
▇▇▇▇▇“Probably,” said Sterling.
Some of the soldiers had already gone and started looking for their friends. Some of them wouldn’t call back. She turned back to Marcus.
▇▇▇▇▇“Then you can bet your boots that I’m gonna be here when he wakes up. If he… conjured these beasts, then he killed a lot of my men. I deserve to have a say in what happens to him.”
▇▇▇▇▇Sterling opened her mouth to object, but closed it again. It’s true that Curtis would be dead weight during an interrogation, but he did have a point. She turned away without speaking. Baldor was beginning to rouse, confused as to how he had ended up on the ground. The others would wake up soon too, but the animal would remain sleeping. They had merely tripped on the rope, but the creature was tied in it. She turned back to the captain.
▇▇▇▇▇“Fine. But I ask the questions. Let’s get this over with,” she said.
▇▇▇▇▇She turned to the arcanist and crouched down to where he was slumped against the tree. She pulled down the cord holding his gag in, and then pulled out the gag before slapping him in the face with a solid smacking sound. This drew blood from his nose, but otherwise had no effect. She grabbed his chin and said firmly,
▇▇▇▇▇“Wake up.”
▇▇▇▇▇His eyes opened and he gasped, as though he had just surfaced from a lake and not only from sleep. He glanced around and then grimaced when he was present enough to feel the blow that Marcus had laid on his head.
▇▇▇▇▇“Hello Einar,” she said in a low tone.
▇▇▇▇▇“Sick your dog on me, did you Sterling?” he responded groggily.
▇▇▇▇▇Einar had a square jaw and looked to be somewhere in his late thirties or early forties. He didn’t look like a wizard, but more like a soldier. He had a square build and a sharp look in his brown eyes. His hair was a similar color and shoulder length, and his once-shaven face had turned into bristle.
▇▇▇▇▇“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” she said.
▇▇▇▇▇He laughed bitterly, and then leaned his head to look around her at the carnage.
▇▇▇▇▇“I thought that framing people was below you. I guess not.” he said in a low voice.
▇▇▇▇▇She rose and swiftly kicked him in the solar plexus.
▇▇▇▇▇“I’m not in a good mood, Einar,” she said.
▇▇▇▇▇“You never are,” he said, sputtering.
▇▇▇▇▇“Tell me how you did this,” she demanded, gesturing to the remains of the nearest beast.
▇▇▇▇▇“I didn’t,” he said, still breathless from her kick. “You did.”
▇▇▇▇▇She kicked him again, drawing a grunt.
▇▇▇▇▇“Don’t you dare try to accuse me! Tell me how you did this! Where did you find the mana?! What tome did you use?!” she howled at him.
▇▇▇▇▇He cursed and coughed.
▇▇▇▇▇“Dammit Sterling, I didn’t do this! And if you didn’t do it, then I don’t know who did!” he said, panting from the pain.
▇▇▇▇▇She paused, thinking about it. Her hands were still shaking from the fight, and she realized suddenly that she was afraid. She felt unprepared.
▇▇▇▇▇“Look, I know we’re not exactly friends, but you’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I made those beasts,” said Einar. “I wouldn’t have even realized that magic could do such a thing if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”
▇▇▇▇▇She felt like kicking him again, and shifted her weight to do so. Einar tensed. She waited, and then put her foot back down with an anxious sigh. This wasn’t her. It hadn’t been her in a long time. The person inside her was why she hated battles and blood. Not the person before her. She took a deep breath again. The arcanist looked up at her, patiently waiting for her next question.
▇▇▇▇▇“Why have you been following us?” she said at last.
▇▇▇▇▇She sounded calmer, more like herself.
▇▇▇▇▇“Would you believe that I was just going the same way?” he asked, a wry smile slipping over his face as he leaned his head back against the tree.
▇▇▇▇▇He seemed to sense that she wasn’t going to kick him again.
▇▇▇▇▇“I’m not sure I would,” she said.
▇▇▇▇▇“Damn,” he said only.
▇▇▇▇▇She waited.
▇▇▇▇▇“Tholdrove asked me to kill you,” he said casually, “I came to warn you. About this one,” he said, looking at Marcus. “And that one too, actually, both were instructed to kill you.”
▇▇▇▇▇She rolled her eyes. Curtis shifted uncomfortably.
▇▇▇▇▇“Really, is there anyone in this company that isn’t trying to kill me?!” she lamented, and then sighed. “Thanks for your concern,” she said dryly, “But I knew about both of them,”
▇▇▇▇▇“You did!?” said Curtis suddenly.
▇▇▇▇▇She glared at him for a moment, and then looked back to Einar.
▇▇▇▇▇“Why are you really here?” she asked.
▇▇▇▇▇He gave up.
▇▇▇▇▇“There’s magic in the forest that we’ve never seen before, as you might have noticed. I wanted to know how much of it was yours.” he said.
▇▇▇▇▇“None of it,” she said, but even she didn’t sound so sure.
▇▇▇▇▇“The brotherhood finds that unlikely,” he said.
▇▇▇▇▇“The brotherhood isn’t the brightest bunch,” she said boredly.
▇▇▇▇▇Einar frowned and gave her a tired look.
▇▇▇▇▇“Were you still going to kill me?” she asked.
▇▇▇▇▇“Well, you’re making it an attractive proposition, but that’s not really why I came.” he said.
▇▇▇▇▇She sighed, and then stooped and started untying his bonds, first at his feet, and then his hands.
▇▇▇▇▇“Help us heal our wounded. Then I don’t care where you go,” she said.
▇▇▇▇▇“I was going to offer anyways,” he said.
▇▇▇▇▇He stood up to his full height, and his cloak fell back around his broad, square shoulders. He was about as tall as Marcus. Sterling started walking away, towards the wounded.
▇▇▇▇▇“Oh, Sterling,” said Einar, seemingly remembering something.
▇▇▇▇▇She turned to listen to him as a meaty fist slammed into the middle of her stomach. She choked and fell forward, hitting the ground. She hugged her middle, collapsing inward towards the hole that it felt like he just created in her gut.
▇▇▇▇▇“You’re a b***h,” he concluded, and strided past her, white cloak billowing in the mist.
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