He knew every detail of all his blades, and over time, they each became an extension of him. Keeping a knife in his hand never seemed an odd thing to him like it did to others. It suited him fine that few understood the habit.
People seem to bother you less when a knife is already pulled.
Steel scraping against stone brought him a level of peace that he could not explain. He loved the sound.
There is only one other sound I enjoy more.
The thought brought a devilish grin to his face.
His habits had kept him a step ahead of his opponents and saved his life more than once. He turned the blade over in his hand, tilting it back and forth, and smiled. Its reflection caught the movement of two men slinking behind him on either side of the tree. They were obviously unaware that he had heard them long before this moment. They had tried to mask their boots crunching on the packed snow by walking in time to the scrape of his blade, but Kroke heard the difference right away.
Flipping the knife back and forth in his hand from hilt to blade, he grinned again. The movement served as a distraction to the two men approaching as he set the whetstone down and slid his other hand down to his belt, removing another dagger from its sheath.
In one fluid motion Kroke ducked a swinging ax that slammed into the tree at his back and rolled to his feet. He threw his knife at the man farthest from him.
One of Elyse’s guards.
Willum fell with a thud to the ground while he clutched at the knife in his neck. His legs kicked up snow as he struggled to breathe. Kroke saw the other man had abandoned his ax and reached for his sword. Before the soldier’s hand made it to his scabbard, Kroke stepped forward and jammed his other knife through the man’s palm and into his hip.
The soldier screamed. Kroke flung him to the ground and sat atop his chest.
Kroke brought another blade to the attacker’s throat. “Why?” he asked, showing no emotion.
The man shook his head and tried to catch his breath.
Kroke moved the blade from his throat to the man’s crotch, adding pressure to the point. “Why?”
The soldier’s eyes widened. “The queen.”
“What about the queen? Did she order this?” Kroke had seen how nervous he made her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to order his death, but not many people ever seem like the kind of person they really are.
The man shook his head. “No. We were told to kill the queen.” The man’s eyes drifted to the knife near his groin. “Please, I have a family….” the man started.
“Then you won’t need this anymore,” said Kroke, shoving the blade through his groin to the hilt. The man let out a howl. Kroke slid the knife out and swung it forward through the center of the man’s chest. The move silenced the chilling sound that echoed through the woods. The blood gurgling in the man’s throat made Kroke smile.
He knew it took a sick man to be so pleased about things but there was always something about the sound of death he enjoyed.
What in life could possibly be better?
A high-pitched scream coming from the camp interrupted his dark thoughts. He cursed to himself and set off into the woods.
* * *
Elyse found a stick and stirred the ashes in the fire, keeping it going as best she could since the others were too preoccupied to bother. It was the least she could do. Actually, it felt like the only thing she could do. She fed a few sticks to the small flames, conscientious about making sure the fire did not grow too large.
I feel even more helpless out here than I did in council.
Footsteps crunched across the snow nearby and she looked up. Hadan wore a troubled look on his face and his hands trembled.
“Is something wrong? Maybe you should warm yourself by the fire,” she said, hoping for a little company.
Hadan stopped a few feet from her and drew his sword.
Elyse looked around, noticing that others moved toward her with their blades drawn. She looked back up at Hadan. “Is something the matter? Have we been discovered?”
“No, Your Majesty, we are isolated from the world. And that’s why this is the perfect spot,” he said, voice quavering.
“A perfect spot?” she said looking around, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”
Hadan glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, Your Majesty,” he whispered, facing her again. “Let me end this quickly. The others want to make use of you first and I told them I would allow them to only if I was given the chance before them. But I will not do that to you. I am not completely without honor,” he said taking a step forward.
Elyse watched him raise his sword.
She understood.
She screamed and with the stick in her hand threw hot ashes into Hadan’s face. He dropped his sword and gasped. The others came at her and Elyse ran. Looking over her shoulder, she watched in horror as a sword erupted from Hadan's chest. Blood hissed into the snow.
She stumbled off toward the woods. Footsteps closed in and a cold hand wrapped around her arm, flinging her to the ground. She screamed as the man straddled her. His look of satisfaction vanished as an arrow sank into his chest. Gagging, he pulled the arrow out and his blood sprayed across her face. She scrambled away as Rygar galloped past, taking down another of the men who had turned on her.
An arrow struck the scout just as his shot found its mark. Rygar toppled from his mount and fell into the snow. The man who fired the shot drew out his sword and walked over to the prone scout. Elyse screamed at the soldier, too far away and too helpless to do anything more.
He snarled at her. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll see to you in a moment.”
His smile dropped as a look of confusion took its place. The man looked down to see a dagger buried in his chest. He blinked rapidly, mouth falling open as two more blades sank into his torso inches from the first. The snow muffled his fall.
With the last of her attackers dead, Elyse hurried over to Rygar. Her hand moved to the arrow but stopped suddenly at a shout.
“Don’t touch it!”
Elyse jumped and looked up to see Kroke running toward her.
“Move. Let me take a look at it,” said Kroke. He got down on his knees and examined the wound. “Rygar, you alive?” Rygar moaned as Kroke turned him over. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“What am I doing on the ground?” asked Rygar.
“You were hit by an arrow and fell from your horse,” said Elyse.
“That explains why my side is killing me.”
“What doesn’t make sense is why you didn’t have your mail on. Jonrell would have your hide for that,” said Kroke as he started to cut away the clothing around the arrow.
Rygar winced audibly with each jostle. “Be careful. Mail makes too much noise. It’s easier to scout without armor.”
“Easier to die too,” said Kroke.
He pulled away the last bit of clothing and Elyse saw the wound. She paled, but took a deep breath to calm herself.
“I’m not feeling too good, Kroke,” said Rygar.
“You’re losing a lot of blood.”
“Will I make it?” asked Rygar.
“I’m pretty sure it didn’t hit anything important,” said Kroke.
“How do you know?” asked Elyse.
Kroke shrugged. “I don’t. But he’s alive and talking. That’s gotta be good for something.” He paused. “I still need to get that arrow out and cauterize the wound. But first I have to move him.”
“What can I do to help?” asked Elyse.
Kroke gave her a look.
“Please. He saved my life.”
Kroke nodded. “Go build up that fire.”
“What about keeping it low so we won’t be seen?”
“We can’t worry about that now,” he said, gesturing to Rygar. “Clear away as much snow from around that log you were sitting on. When you’re done, place one of those blankets on the ground.”
Elyse nodded and ran off. Despite their situation it felt good to be useful.
Shortly after clearing a spot, Kroke came over and set Rygar down next to the fire. Kroke unsheathed a knife strapped to his chest and handed it to Elyse. “Stick the blade in the fire but do not let it touch the ash.”
The fire was too strong now for Elyse to hold the knife in place, so she set up a few pieces of wood to prop up the blade. While she did that, Kroke filled a pot with snow. He pulled a pouch from one of their bags and poured the contents into the melt.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Herbs to fight off infection and help with the pain,” Kroke answered.
Once the mixture came to a boil, he removed the pot from the flames and set it into the snow to cool. Handing a cup of the liquid to Elyse, he said, “It’s still warm but I need you to help him drink this when I prop him up.”
She nodded and though he struggled to swallow, Rygar got the liquid down.
“Better?” asked Kroke, looking at Rygar.
The scout managed a slight nod.
“Good.” He placed a stick in Rygar’s mouth. “You bite down as hard as you need to on this, but whatever you do, I need you to stay still. Understand?”
Rygar swallowed hard and managed another nod.
Kroke looked over to Elyse. “You still want to help?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then. I need you to keep him still because no matter how hard he tries not to move, he’s gonna start jumping the second I start pulling and tugging,” said Kroke, ignoring the scout’s whimper. “The more he moves, the worse it gets for everyone. So I need you to hold him down like your life depended on it, understand?”
Elyse nodded. “Just show me where to be so I’m not in your way.”
Kroke showed her how to hold down his arms and chest. He then sat on Rygar’s legs. “Look away. I saw how pale you got when you first saw the wound. This could get messy and I don’t need you passing out on me.”
She looked away and swallowed as Kroke gave her one last bit of instruction.
“Oh, and breath through your mouth.”
Elyse knew Kroke had started when she felt Rygar shaking and heard him grunting. She watched helplessly as tears streamed down Rygar’s face and she began praying to the One Above in part for help and in part to drown out the slew of curses sputtering from Kroke’s mouth as he worked. When the hissing of hot steal against skin replaced the curses, she knew the arrow was free. By that point, Rygar passed out from the pain.
The smell of burning flesh reached her. She took three quick steps and emptied the contents of her stomach, nearly falling over as she heaved.
She turned back to Kroke where the mercenary pulled out a white bandage. He didn’t look up. “I warned you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Elyse muttered.
“If you’re done, get over here. I need to show you how to take care of this in case I’m not able to.”
Elyse hobbled back to Kroke as he put some sort of salve on the blackened skin and wrapped the bandage around Rygar’s wound. She grimaced and felt her stomach turn as she saw the size of the gash.
Kroke noticed the gesture. “If you’re going to throw up again, you better get up now.”
“No, I’m ok.” She paused. “What happened? The wound is so much bigger.”
Kroke sighed. “A piece of the arrow broke off and I had to fish it out as best I could.” He shook his head. “I did a number on him though and I ain’t a healer. Now, we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“So in the morning, he’ll be able to travel?” asked Elyse.
“Absolutely not.”
“But you stopped the bleeding?”
“For now, yeah. But it’ll start back up again if we try to put him on a horse and jostle him around.”
“So, then what do we do?”
“We get comfortable. I don’t want to travel for at least a couple of days.”
“But Jonrell told me we had to get to Ithanthul as soon as possible.”
Kroke pointed. “There’s the road.” He gestured toward their supplies. “And there’s a pack. Grab a horse and go if you feel like you need to.”
“By myself?”
“That’s the only way you’re leaving here tomorrow.”
“But…”
Kroke cut in, his voice raising. “We leave when he is safe for travel.”
“How long will that be?” asked Elyse, startled.
“As long as it takes.” He turned his back to Elyse and started walking toward the woods.
Fear gripped her. “Where are you going?”
“Firewood,” he yelled back without turning around. “We need more to get through the night.”
“What about me?” she shouted back.
Kroke didn’t answer as he ambled out of sight. She became aware of the stillness around her, quiet except for the crackling fire. She shivered as she caught sight of the lifeless corpses of the soldiers. She felt numb, not from the cold, but because she realized how close she had come to dying.
She looked back at Rygar who lay still, his chest slowly rising and falling. She found two spare blankets and covered him. She stoked the fire higher and looked at the bloody snow near Hadan’s body. Kroke hadn’t returned and the sun started to drop below the treeline.
Images of wolves or bears that would smell the fresh blood gave her a shudder. She needed to move at least his body away from the fire. The prospect of sleeping feet away from a dead man did not comfort her either.
She grabbed Hadan’s body by his boots and pulled. The job was harder than she expected. Eventually she realized she could tie a rope to one of the horses and use it to drag the bodies away.
Elyse settled back down next to the fire just as the last bit of light faded to black.
After checking on Rygar, she nibbled on a hard biscuit. She leaned back against a fallen log and waited for Kroke.
Elyse stared into the black beyond the fire and wondered if she would ever sleep again.
* * *
“Mmm, that’s good. Definitely your best yet, Your Majesty,” said Rygar, taking a bite of the stew she handed him.
Elyse dipped her head, embarrassed for some reason by the compliment. “Thank you. I’m not sure what I did though. I just dumped a bunch of stuff we had into a pot.”
Rygar shrugged. “Whatever it is, keep doing it,” he said taking another bite.
Elyse smiled and spooned out another bowl to take to Kroke who sat a few steps back sharpening his knives.