This was the routine of the next day. Raeth and El each took a turn on the pole spreading the work and giving everyone a chance to recover, but no matter how hard they pushed, there always seemed to be more Goblins on the bank. Just when they thought they’d lost them, thanks to a crossed channel or some other obstacle, they’d turn up again - like some strange rash that wouldn’t go away. The only thing the companions could really be thankful for was that the channel they followed was wide and never let the little monsters get close enough to launch an effective attack.
“Logan,” whispered Raeth as he came to relieve her on the pole. “We have a problem.”
“Just one? You’re optimistic,” Logan said with a smile. Raeth simply cocked an eyebrow and continued.
“So far, we’ve been lucky. But, up ahead, this channel narrows considerably.”
Logan nodded his understanding before finishing Raeth’s thought.
“And when it does, we’re going to be in range of those spears.”
“Worse, some places are barely wider than this raft.”
Logan gave a deep sigh. He knew things had been going along too well.
The Hard Choices
The more Logan thought about it, the more he realized he really had no alternatives. He knew his companions were going to hate it, but it was the only option that offered any chance of survival. Bringing the raft to a halt before entering the narrows, he made his case.
Raeth, Lan and El simply stared at him as he finished. It was clear that they were not impressed, to say the least.
“There’s no alternative,” he explained. “When the channel narrows, we’re done for. No doubts, no questions! We’re in no condition to fight an entire horde of Goblins, not to mention the General and his pet mage. If I slip off before then and make enough noise, I just might be able to lead them off.”
“At which point, you’re done for,” announced Lan from the centre of the raft. “We’ll fight together.”
Logan cast his friend a pained smile.
“You’re in no shape to fight Lan. You’re still fighting off the infection and your wounds are trying to heal. And Raeth, don’t think I haven’t noticed, I’m willing to bet that leg injury has gotten worse, likely infected as well. You hide it well, but I’ve seen the limp.” Raeth dropped her gaze from his before he continued. “This is the only way. I should be able to lose them in the swamp. I’ll make sure they get my trail and lead them away from the rest of you and then I’ll lose them. It’ll be dark again soon and I’m better in the dark than they are.”
Lan’thor just stared at him with one brow raised. El and Raeth had struck similar poses.
“I’ll go,” announced Raeth. “I know the swamp better than any of you.”
“And, besides your injury, that’s exactly why you can’t,” explained Logan. “If Lan’thor and El are going to have any chance of getting out of here, they’ll need you to guide them. Any way you look at it, I’m the only choice.”
Raeth resigned to his logic but hating it, frowned deeply at him.
“Fine!” El snapped and crossed her arms stubbornly. “I’ll go with you.”
Logan sighed again and gave her a small smile.
“No, El, they’ll need your magic for defence, they’ll need you to tend their wounds and you still need to get a message back to the rest of the Elves. They need to be warned. The three of you need to go get the word out. It’s the only chance we have to stop whatever Siris has planned.”
In his mind he cast his thoughts towards El.
It’s our only chance, El, he pleaded through their link. Lan and Raeth can’t get out without you. And we can’t fight and take care of the wounded at the same time. There are simply too many of them. If the Goblins catch us, then it’s over. The Elves will never know what’s coming and the General will take them by surprise. We have to do this, it’s the only way.
But, you promised you’d never leave me again.
I’m not dead yet. I’m built for this.
When no response came, Logan knew that she’d resigned herself to the situation. Gods, he loved her. He desperately hoped this wouldn’t be the end.
Is this the end? he thought toward the heavens.
No answer came.
Messages And Regrets
El still couldn’t believe that she had let him talk her into it. Let him convince her that leaving him behind was the best course of action available to them. Maybe, it had been the desperation in his eyes or the pleading in his mind. She didn’t know. All that she was certain of was that when the channel had begun to narrow, Logan had left them and she had let him go. That had been hours ago and now that it was done she was kicking herself. She sat tending to Lan in the morning light, feeding him from their meagre supplies. Thankfully, he seemed to be improving, albeit slowly, while Raeth took a turn at the long poll, moving them quietly through the swamp. None of them spoke, none of them even made eye contact, all were concerned about Logan.
Casting her gaze towards the bank, El’s mind found him even when her eyes and ears could not. She could feel him now, moving fast. It sort of surprised her how quickly he was actually moving. She was so used to his lumbering gait and the fact that the companions always found themselves slowing for him. Apparently, he only had two speed options, the gait he used with them or when others were around, and the much faster ogre’s lope that he was using now. In her mind’s eye she could see him moving, faster than any of the companions would have been able to maintain, especially given their current levels of health. She realized that he had been holding himself back to appear more human, less animalistic. She would need to speak with him. He didn’t need to pretend around her.
He was trying to lead the Goblins in the opposite direction, so he wasn’t being at all quiet or subtle as he crashed through the swamp.
Damn him, she thought. Why does he have to be such a hero all the time? Didn’t he realize that it would eventually get him killed! And besides, he promised.
He’d promised that he would never leave her. She felt a tear slip down her cheek and she brushed it away defiantly. If he lived through this crazy nonsense, she might just kill him herself. At the very least, she’d kick him.
Yes, she thought. That’s it. I’ll definitely kick him.
Turning her attention back to her patient, she tried to focus. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Lan was doing much better. He was actually managing to get some rest and he didn’t seem to be in as much pain as he had been. Even better, the angry red around the stump of his arm had begun to fade. With Lan on the mend, she could focus on other things for a while. She needed to let her father know what had happened, needed him to prepare Er’thaental just in case and needed him to send out reinforcements.
“Raeth, I’m going to try and send a message home to my father.”
The assassin looked down at her for a moment before nodding and continuing her polling.
El made herself as comfortable as she possibly could on the wet logs at the front of the raft and began the breathing exercises she had been taught as a child. She was attempting to send a telepathic message further than she’d ever tried before and it would require all of her concentration and focus.
You can do it.
Logan’s thought came softly to her mind and she almost lost control. Running through the swamp like a madman, pursued by the gods knew how many Goblins, and he was still keeping an eye on her, sending her his strength even now.
Be careful, she thought back before reluctantly pushing him from the forefront of her mind and refocusing back on her breathing. The world faded around her as she quested towards the Elfin village and her father.
What felt like ages, but was likely only moments, passed and finally in her mind’s eye, she saw several points glowing faintly in the distance. One point glowed brighter than the rest and she concentrated harder on it. This one was the most familiar. She knew this mind, had know it as long as she’d lived. She sent her mind closer, attention
fixed on that light.
Daddy.
The glow before her flared in her mind as contact was made. Quickly her connection was strengthened at the other end.
El? came the questioning thought. What is it? Where are you?
It was tempting to throw her thoughts at him, to let him sort out the jumbled mess that seemed to be her mind at the moment, but she resisted the urge. Rather, she focused her thoughts more tightly, as she’d been taught, and sent them in a cohesive order. Slowly but clearly she explained all that had occurred since leaving the Er’thaental, their choice to meet up with Lan and his warriors, what they’d found when they’d arrived, Ar’n’tor’s betrayal. Finally, she ended with her final image of Logan disappearing into the swamp as they bobbed down the narrow waterways.
The sending left her exhausted and as it ended, she slumped against Lan’thor’s sleeping form.
“Did it work?”
The voice that roused her was soft and she forced herself to open her eyes and meet the assassin’s gaze. The sun had moved considerably while she’d been sending and the afternoon was wearing down.
“It did,” she managed with an exhausted smile. “They’ve been warned.”
Musings Of A Killer
Raeth had watched the sending with interest. Magic always gave her a slight itch between her shoulder blades, part of the whole shape shifter thing she’d guessed, though none of her kin had ever mentioned it to her before. She looked down at her two companions. Lan’thor was surviving which was all she could ask, all things considered. He was sleeping, his face relaxed and at peace as he lost himself in the worlds of his dreams. She was still amazed at the relationship that had blossomed between them. She’d always been taught that relationships with outside species were impossible. That no one but a fellow changeling could handle the fact that their partner could be anyone, become anyone. But Lan’thor had made her question that teaching. He’d accepted what she was, and though it hadn’t been easy at first, they’d managed it.
They’d had many a long talk about things very early on. They’d set the ground rules in relation to her shifting. The main one being that she would never shift - and he would never ask her to shift - into anyone they knew. They both felt that, emotionally, that would be too difficult on the relationship, and it was something they both readily agreed upon. Dire situations were the only exception, such as the time Raeth had taken on the guise of El’dreathia to assassinate the puppet king Siris had placed on the throne.
That, of course, led into the next great difficulty in their relationship. How does an honour and duty driven Elfin warrior, next in line for clan chief, make peace with the fact that his life partner is an assassin who killed to complete a contract, rather than out of any ethical or moral requirement? That was actually a much harder conversation and had no easy answer. So far, Raeth had simply avoided the issue by keeping her work as an assassin to a bare minimum. Effectively, she had been on hiatus for their time in the Elfin village. She realized that was going to change in the future. She was her own person, with a career at which she was extremely talented. She wasn’t going to simply give that up any more than Lan could give up his role in life. No, a compromise would have to be found. She had faith enough in both of them to feel that they’d figure out how to get through it together.
She smiled fondly at his sleeping form, warmth spreading through her as she watched him. Her gaze fell on his right arm, or rather the empty space where his right arm should have been. A frown crept across her face. Retraining was going to be hard for him. He was naturally right handed, and though he’d always trained with both, he would find the loss extremely limiting. It would require a lot of work and practice but she knew he could do it. He was stubborn enough and she would be there to help him. They’d get through this together. They’d be stronger in the end.
At the moment, it was her own nature that she was struggling with. As an assassin, she’d been taught not to make connections, that they would weigh her down like heavy chains, and here she was with a whole mess of them. Lan was her partner and that was a decision and a relationship she’d walked into with her eyes wide open. She’d made peace with that particular chain and her current course of action made sense when painted with that brush. She needed to get him to safety, it was as simple as that. In so doing, she could hopefully get them all to safety.
And yet, all she really wanted to do was disappear into the swamp as Logan had done and hunt down those who had hurt the one she loved. Love, she snorted, now there was a dangerous emotion for an assassin. She was much more comfortable with vengeance. She understood vengeance. Love scared her.
She looked down at the Elfin mage, collapsed against Lan in exhaustion. Between the two of them, they had managed to give her something she’d never had before - a family. In the typical changeling manner, she’d had no family. Children were taken early from their parents and tested. Based on their aptitude, they were placed in a profession that most suited them. For her, it had been decided that she was a natural assassin. For as long as she could remember, that was all there was. No parents, no friends, just trainers and competitors, just the art of the kill.
Never before had she encountered anything like she experienced now. She’d gotten close to marks as part of a job, but they’d never seen through her veils to the person she was. They had simply been marks. That was different now, these people had seen exactly who and what she was. Amazingly, they had accepted her. They had fought for her and she had returned in kind. But it was a debt that could never be repaid. She couldn’t simply disappear into the night without a thought of regret. She couldn’t even just escape into the night with Lan’thor. Besides the fact that he would never leave El’dreathia in such a way, she couldn’t even seriously consider the notion herself.
All her training told her she should abandon them to their fate, cast them aside, but she couldn’t. If she was being honest with herself, something she always tried to do, she hadn’t been able to for quite some time. No, however it had happened, she found herself tied to these two Elves. Personally, she blamed Logan, he had taught her something about herself. He had been the first to accept her. He’d been able to figure out her secrets and when he discovered them, he’d kept them. It was a level of trust she had been completely unprepared for. He had stood up for all of them time and time again. He’d placed himself at the forefront against all dangers. He accepted them all without trying to change them and, most recently, he’d bought them this chance at escape, despite what it might cost him and despite the odds that stood against him.
Raeth wasn’t stupid. She knew Logan wasn’t simply what one saw. If nothing else, she’d seen him get up from things that should have killed him. She knew he was special, how could she not? But she understood that just because he was hard to kill, it didn’t mean it was impossible. Rather, it just meant that he would suffer even more greatly before he finally expired. She knew it and she was certain that he knew it. Despite that, he had sacrificed everything to get them out of this swamp. She could see it in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t lie to himself, either. He really didn’t expect to live through this, and still, he did it. He knew the General would come after him, knew that everything else, them included, would be forgotten in Siris’ hunt. She could only imagine what that sick monster would do to him when he finally caught up with him.
Raeth studied the far bank much as El’dreathia had done earlier. Her eyes hardened to steel. Where Lan’thor had become her lover and El’dreathia had become like a sister to her, Logan had transcended that. In many ways, he was like a brother, but it was more than that. He had touched her life and given her a purpose. He had given her a direction and a family. He had given her things of value, things that raised her spirit. And now that she had them she wouldn’t let anyone take them away from her. May the gods help whomever tried.
“I will come back for you, brother. I will avenge you!”
Defendable
Logan kn
ew he was in trouble. Even without his sensitive hearing he would have been able to tell the Goblins were closing on him. They weren’t exactly quiet or subtle about it and he knew he didn’t have much time left.
You couldn’t have made me faster? he thought toward the heavens.
Hephaestus’ low rumbling laugh sounded in his mind.
All you ever do is complain!
Logan snorted aloud as he ran, arms and legs working together to power him through the swamp.
It’s how I’m made, Logan snapped back and was rewarded with an even deeper rumbling laugh.
He had been leading the Goblins North for the better part of two days now. Thankfully, although he may not have been gifted with as much speed as he would have liked, he was blessed with stamina. And, in all fairness to the blacksmith god, he could cover a fair distance pretty quickly when he dropped to his knuckles as he did now. It wasn’t exactly graceful but since he wasn’t trying to be stealthy it had allowed him to keep ahead of the Goblins. As long as his friends got away, that was all that mattered.
Aye, lad, they made it. And your sister met them.
Relief flooded through Logan.
The help you had mentioned? Logan asked.
The same. I had a feeling her healing ability might be needed.
Logan knew that if his sister was there, then it was a safe bet that Smash was with her. The idea of an extra pair of arms, especially arms as strong as Smash’s, should trouble arrive reassured Logan considerably.
Well, at least I know Lan’thor will get the help he needs.
Logan came across a clearing. Beyond it he noticed that the swamp became more watery and less solid. Slowing to a halt he gave the clearing a closer look around. The small jetty of land reached out into the water like a small finger. The small clearing was relatively protected on three sides. A large tree clung to the bank at the far end, its branches leaning out over the water.
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