With Kisa's help, she sat up fully. Loran looked in the slats of the visor, grateful to see those same dark eyes she remembered staring back at her. If eyes could smile, Kisa's seemed to be.
"Good morning, sir knight," Loran chuckled, trying to fight the winces as she let her body settle. It wasn't yet time to try standing again. "I'm afraid you got the shit end of the deal last night. Did you get enough rest?"
Kisa nodded and clasped a gloved hand on Loran's arm, giving her a questioning squeeze.
"I'm fine. I slept plenty thanks to you. Tonight you're getting a proper night's sleep though, mark my words." Loran slowly stretched out her back, biting her lip to keep from groaning as her wound protested. The pain was dwindling, but it wasn't going away just yet. "Can you help me stand? I think I'll be fine as soon as I'm on my feet for a bit."
Kisa didn't hesitate, offering a strong arm as an anchor. Loran grasped it and carefully pulled herself up from the ground. She gritted her teeth through the pain, a wave of dizziness washing over her once she was upright. Thankfully, her anchor didn't move away until the world stopped spinning around her.
"Alright, I think I'm fine now. And thank you, for everything last night. Patching me up. I can't believe you used your hood for that. You really didn't have to... But thank you."
Kisa squeezed her shoulder lightly, then knelt to gather her bedmat. Loran leaned over carefully to pick up the all-important satchel, running her fingers over the designs in the leather. This was turning out to be her favorite assignment yet.
Once they had packed up, they hit the road once again. The sun was just beginning to creep over the treetops to warm the still chilly air of morning. Kisa clacked along in her armor, and Loran was actually grateful for the sound now. She didn't have to walk in the shadows, didn't have to stay silent with every step. She wasn't alone.
Loran shared some of her flatbread and dried fruit, and Kisa offered up her dried meat strips; together they had a little feast as they walked.
Before long, they spotted a group of travelers on the road ahead, five men, a single mule-drawn cart among them. Kisa put a hesitant hand on Loran's shoulder, but Loran felt bold today, despite her injured state.
"Let's just continue on our way. They likely wouldn't mess with someone as impressive looking as you. If we just smile and pass, they'll likely do the same, right?"
Kisa looked up the road, but Loran couldn't tell what Kisa was thinking behind that visor. She finally nodded, her hand falling from Loran's shoulder.
The travelers' laughter rang through the trees as they grew closer. Loran cursed her sudden bold streak and made sure to cover the lord's parcel beneath the folds of her robes. The package was far too obvious and valuable for her liking, but this would hide it from sight long enough to pass the other travelers.
"Oi, what've we got here? Knight and his little lass on the road to a tourney maybe?"
"Where're you fighting, sir knight?"
The men seemed amused by the sight of them, but Loran did her best to put on a smile anyways. Perhaps if she was polite and answered their questions, they'd leave them alone.
"I'm afraid you missed it, gentlemen. The tourney ended three days past. We're returning home," Loran lied, hoping it was a convincing one.
The men slowed as they neared them. A stocky blond crossed his arms and came to a stop, his smile turning into a smirk. "Is that right? I'm sure you've got some heavy pockets, then. That guy looks like a winner. Hate to be on the wrong end of that joust."
Kisa's armor clinked as she put her hand on her sword. Loran tensed and turned back to the travelers. "No, I'm afraid it didn't go so well this time. If you don't mind, we'll just be on our way—"
"Actually, I do mind, sweetheart." The blond grinned wickedly. Kisa drew her sword in a flash as Loran stepped back. The men wore ragged clothes with bits of armor and accessories that looked far too expensive for such a rag tag group. Stolen goods, without a doubt.
Kisa put herself between Loran and the brigands, her greatsword drawn and ready.
"Aw, wouldja look at that? Brave knight protecting his lady. How cute," a man with a red beard bellowed, while a sixth figure jumped out of the back of their cart to join the fray.
"This doesn't have to be a fight." The blond leader held out his hands in a peaceful gesture. Loran didn't buy that for a second. "Just give us your winnings and we'll be on our way. Simple as that. You'll win again another time; you look like you'd be a force on the field. Or—" he sauntered closer, despite Kisa's bared sword, "—you could take a chance and fight us. Willing to bet you could take some of us down, but the one thing you can't do is keep all five of my friends from getting to your pretty lady there before one of us does something you don't like. So how's about you just hand over the gold, eh?"
Kisa hesitated, her sword still in the air.
"I already told you, we don't have any gold!" Loran insisted. "And this isn't just any knight. This is the Silent Knight. Slayer of the Black Dragon and champion of Shallowfelt. If you leave now, we will not attack you."
The band of brigands looked to one another in consideration, but it was the blond who first spoke again.
"The Silent Knight, eh? I've always wondered what's under that visor of yours, knight. They say no one has seen your face and lived to tell of it." He propped his hands on his hips, jutting out his belly in a cocky display. "Or is there even anything under there? They say you're just an empty suit, enchanted by some dark magic."
Loran looked at their faces, trying to determine if they might still attack. The blond, the red beard, the small weaselly one— there were only five. There had been six. One more that had come out of the cart, but Loran hadn't seen where the final bandit had gone. She fought the rising panic in her chest as best she could, opened her mouth to warn Kisa, but the very moment she did, a dark figure fell from the tree onto Kisa's back. Loren watched helplessly as she dropped her sword in shock and fought against the figure latched onto her back.
The bandits hooted and hollered, drawing their weapons as their leader darted forward to snatch up the greatsword before Kisa could pick it back up. The brigand on her back pulled off her helmet with a victorious laugh, and Kisa rammed the thief back against the nearest tree trunk, but the damage was done.
"It's a bloody woman! Hold her down. She's quite a brutish one, eh?"
"Might should tie her up and have 'er pull the cart!"
The brigands laughed amongst themselves, each of them closing in on Kisa. Loran's heart stilled, her blood cooling in her veins. Without hesitation, she uncapped the skin of water at her belt and drew a vial from her pocket. She held her left hand out in front of her and watched as the water followed it. It pooled beneath her fingertips, hovering in the air. She threw the black powder from the vial into the water and dropped the vial, using both hands now to mix the powder into the weightless water. As the powder dissolved, the water began to darken, to spark and crackle, bright bolts of electricity sparking through it.
The bandits were too busy trying to wrestle Kisa out of her armor to notice. They pulled at her gauntlets, tried to unbuckle her chest plate. The dark haired man at the back turned just in time to see a streak of charged water flying toward him. The moment it hit his skin, it let out a sharp CRACK and he fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.
"What in—"
The man with the red beard went down next. CRACK. The next three went down just as easily, but Kisa was standing directly in front of the sixth brigand. He was hunched against the tree trunk, struggling for breath from where she'd slammed him into it.
Loran charged toward him, water still pooled in the air beneath her fingers.
"Get out of the way. He can't live now that he's seen—"
Kisa held up a hand, her expression pleading. Her face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat from the tussle. She was missing a gauntlet and still quite disheveled, but she looked otherwise unharmed.
"But he saw. He saw you, and he saw me!" Loran glared at t
he hunched man on the ground, the black water crackling in anticipation under her palms, just waiting to be put to use one last time.
Kisa kept her hand up, her expression more stern this time.
The man at the base of the tree coughed once more and looked up at them both with a hopeful smile. "I'd be forever in your debt if you decided to let me live. I mean, look at this face. You can't kill someone as pretty as me, can you?" His voice was a smooth alto, sultry even as he pouted.
"And what, just have you running about knowing both of our secrets? He can't live. It's not safe for either of us!"
Kisa shook her head firmly, meeting Loran's gaze. She lifted a brow and pressed a hand to her own chest. It took Loran a moment to realize what she was saying.
"But... but you knowing is different. I trust you now, and I'm not going to just drop you like I did them—you're not like them. They were just brigands, just—"
Kisa shook her head, resting her bared hand on her chest. She thumped it against her loose breastplate in a mock heartbeat.
Loran stared at the man behind her. He shrugged, his palms spread open. "Your girlfriend here has a point: we're all human, aren't we?"
"Shut up." Loran huffed, clenching and unclenching her fist in the air, the black water below rippling, crackling with unspent energy. She looked to Kisa, trying to convince herself that maybe letting this brigand live wouldn't bring them both certain death.
After a few moments of tense stillness, Loran let the water fall to the ground in a harmless splash.
"Fine. You get to live. But you're coming with us. I don't trust you."
"Much appreciated."
"Shut up." Loran corked her water skin with a huff. "We should restrain him."
"Aww, don't be like that. I can be real great company once you get to know me." He grinned, a golden ring in his lip gleaming. He was adorned in mismatched bracelets and rings, and several buttons were open over his chest. He had a mess of dark curls, several small braids peeking through with garish gold beads intermixed. Loran wondered how Kisa had ever talked her into this.
"Can we gag him too, while we're at it?"
Kisa knelt to gather her fallen gauntlet and glove, putting them back on carefully. The man stood, offering her the helmet he'd stolen only minutes before.
"Awful sorry about all that..."
"You don't seem too sad to see your friends dead." Loran crossed her arms, tense.
"Calling them friends would be incredibly inaccurate. I knew some of them, yes, but each of them would've bled me dry if it had gotten them any coin." He scoffed, dusting himself off as he got to his feet. Loran uncorked her water once more.
"Don't try anything. I can kill you without a second's notice."
He held up his hands, rings gleaming in the streams of sunlight. "Clearly. You did give quite a demonstration, as I recall. I think far too highly of myself to befall the same fate, if I can avoid it."
Loran didn't seal her water skin just yet.
"Now, shall we start with names? That is how civilized folk such as yourselves start normal conversations, don't you? I'm Farris."
"I'm not telling you our names."
"Very well. I'll just have to call you 'the killer' and her 'the big one with the pointy thing'." He gestured as Kisa picked up her sword. Loran thought she heard some kind of snort from Kisa.
"You'll call us 'thank you for letting me live' and you'll be happy about it!" Loran huffed out, stepping backwards to retrieve her fallen vial without taking her eyes off Farris.
"That's quite a mouthful. I like 'killer' and 'the big one with the pointy thing' better."
"I don't care what you like." Loran slipped the vial back into her pocket. "If we're letting you live, then you're our prisoner until we finish our task."
"Oh, a knightly task. That sounds exciting. Do tell."
"No." Loran adjusted the strap of the satchel, grateful that it hadn't come loose in the skirmish. It was a little less hidden now, but as long as she didn't draw attention to it, she hoped the thief wouldn't take notice.
Kisa put her helmet back on carefully. She took a moment to look over herself to make sure she hadn't lost anything else. Farris stepped forward and reached for a buckle at her shoulder.
"Missed one here."
Loran had her hand poised over the water skin, ready to strike if he tried anything.
"Relax, Killer."
"Don't call me that."
"Then give me a name." He shrugged as he finished buckling the strap. Farris stepped away with a wry smile, hands in the air. "See? No harm done."
Loran kept watchful eyes on him, still tense from head to toe. "Disarm him. He's got to be hiding weapons."
Kisa nodded and reached for Farris, who lifted a hand to pause her.
"Allow me. It'll save you some time. I will request that we at least take these with us? I'm rather fond of them, and I'd rather not lose them for good." He brandished two daggers from hidden pockets, causing Loran to tense even further, but as soon as he'd drawn them, he dropped them to the ground in front of him.
Next came a golden ring dagger hidden in his boot, tossed to the ground with the others. He withdrew a small pair of sewing scissors shaped like a bird from his other boot, but didn't toss them to the ground.
"Now, I can see how these might be used as a weapon by some, but I'm hoping you'll at least let me keep this one little trinket. Sentimental, of course."
Loran opened her mouth to protest, but Kisa had already reached out to put a hand over
Farris's in a show of approval.
He grinned. "Thank you kindly. At least one of you is reasonable. Now, it would be a waste to leave that cart full of goodies. We might as well take it with us, hm?"
*~*~*
Loran still didn't like that they were bringing the cart and its contents along. Inside was food and finery, and she'd bet her tongue that every bit of it had been taken from someone unwillingly.
"We're donating every bit of this to the nearest orphanage once we arrive in Lionswell," she decided aloud, walking beside the cart. Farris had perched himself inside it and was currently enjoying a ripe green pear between his bound hands.
"If you say so, but it would be a shame to let any of this fruit spoil along the way, don't you think?"
"Is whoever you stole that from even still alive? Tell me, does it taste like blood?" Loran hissed through her teeth, shooting Farris a glare.
"Unlike you, Killer, not all of us resort to such barbaric measures to get what we need."
"Oh, so you just maim them and leave them to starve?"
"I can't speak for those fellows you cut down back there, but personally, I detest drawing blood if I can help it. Not to say I haven't done it. Threats usually work just as well." He shrugged, taking another bite of the sweet smelling fruit. Loran's mouth watered and she hated herself a little more for it. He caught her eye and smirked, making a show of licking up the juices that dribbled down the side of the fruit.
Blood rushed to her cheeks and Loran quickly forced her eyes frontward again.
"We'll drop you at the closest asylum," she decided, ignoring the disapproving visor turned in her direction. "No one will believe a word you say. We'll tell them we found you wandering in the woods, ranting and raving about magic and... flying dogs or something. Perhaps they'll show you more kindness than you've shown those you've stolen from."
"I'll settle for any kindness better than the kind you showed my companions," Farris said simply, taking another bite.
Thundering hoof beats sounded in the distance. Loran heard the clink of Kisa's armor as she reached for her sword, but as she scanned the tree line, she saw the source of the sound. A chestnut stallion raced through the trees, off the main road. It carried two passengers and seemed to be in a hurry.
"Stand down, soldiers." Farris snorted. "You both are far too jumpy for your own good."
"We have good reason to be." Loran relaxed as the horse and riders disappeared into the green hor
izon.
"So many secrets... Not that I don't see why you'd want to keep them. And I suppose I should apologize, sir—" he looked to Kisa, "—for tackling you like that. And removing your helm. You understand we would have had little chance against you otherwise."
Kisa turned toward him a moment, seeming to regard his apology. She turned her head forward once more, walking ahead to keep pace with the mule. She put a hand on its back gently to pat its flank, giving the animal more attention than Farris. Loran's lips curled upward. At least Kisa wasn't just blindly forgiving him for what he'd done.
"Alright, I get it. I don't blame you for being upset." Farris held up his hands. "We all did what we had to do. Some perhaps did a little more than necessary, but I'm not pointing any fingers..."
Loran bristled. "And you think to tell me that you and your 'companions' wouldn't have killed us or worse?"
"We were hired to do a job. We do what's necessary. Some take that a bit further than others, but I don't see the need for anything more than scare tactics, personally."
"As if we would believe that for a second." She scoffed back.
"So, what brings a murderous Tern priest and a knight together in the first place? I thought your kind were strictly solitary." Farris nibbled at the core of the pear, picking out the seeds to lay in his palm.
Loran forced herself to keep her eyes forward. "... At least you aren't as dull-witted as the others were." Speaking ill of the dead. Her Clutch would be ashamed of her.
"They were too focused on your knight to give you much of a look." Farris shrugged. "I also thought your kind were far less violent, I have to admit."
Her face was hot with shame. "We defend ourselves when we must. And those that need protecting."
"Make sense of it however you want." He shrugged, tossing the stem and remaining seeds out into the grass. "Just don't pretend it's anything other than what it was. Gonna have a lot of sleepless nights if you keep trying to think of reasons why it was right. Piece of advice?"
"I don't want your advice."
"Just accept it," he continued, unfazed. "If you keep trying to believe you're this perfect little primrose without a few thorns of your own, you're going to have quite the rude awakening."
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