My Love
Page 262
Alistair was first to lunge towards them, his sword dicing into a hurlock's skull as if it was made of butter. The second took more work, its blade slicking towards the unarmored man but he managed to dodge it before slicing the throat. That was enough time for a spell to whip over Alistair's head and shatter more ice across the darkspawn. With two lines down, the horde paused a moment, eyeing up what they must have thought would be an easy kill.
"Maker damn it," Lana cursed, her eyes glowing white as she twisted a ball of energy on her fingers. "Cullen, grab Gavin. Protect him."
"You too, Reiss," Alistair turned over his shoulder to look at her.
"By the void I will. I can fight same as you."
Despite the line of darkspawn barely being held by the mage's sheet of ice, Alistair ran back to her and hissed, "Look, I know you're scary and awesome, but the absolute last thing I want to think about is you getting the blight, okay. It's bad, not fun, wouldn't recommend the tainted thing. So please, watch over Myra."
She gasped, having been prepared to fight him off and the horde, but at the pleading in his eyes Reiss backed down. "Okay," she sheathed her sword and reached into the pen to snatch up Myra. Her baby wasn't happy about being interrupted, but the tears froze into wide shock at the sight of darkspawn cracking through the ice.
Holding her breath, Reiss watched in terror as the darkspawn continued to whack below the cracking ice. It wouldn't be long now until they broke free, leaving all of two people to take them down.
Alistair slid in beside Lana, his sword at the ready while he secured his old shield on over the arm. "Figure they sensed us?" he casually asked her as if they were waiting for a wagon and not certain death.
She grimly nodded a moment before staring at the man. "Us? What do you mean us? When in the blighted hell did the taint come back into you?"
"A, uh, few...months ago. I was going to say something but we were kinda busy. Babies and all, lot of work, right?" He sang, jerking his head back towards the pair of non-grey wardens doing their best to not panic.
Lana sneered, "Fine, but we are going to have a talk about the importance of data and oh yeah, not facing the pain of a damn joining while alone."
"Yes mother," he groaned, shifting tighter into form. "They're coming through."
"I know."
"Any second now."
Lana groaned, her spell breaking down against the force of the darkspawn, "I know!" Her cry broke the air just as the ice shattered into a billion pieces. This was no hammering of pommels and hands against the thick ice, it was magic. Strong magic.
"Shit, Emissary," Alistair shouted first, already running headlong into the horde.
"Cullen, get the kids out of here, now!" Lana ordered. He tightened up beside Reiss, wishing to do something to help, but both of their arms were overflowing with wiggly babies.
Whipping her head back to the battle, Lana met the Emissary magic for magic. Whatever she'd been building on her fingers shattered against the darkspawn's casting. It didn't hurt the creature, but it did dissipate its own attack. That was enough for Alistair, the man in full soldier mode as he bashed into a hurlock's head and rose upward to stab down at the Emissary. He almost got in, when a blast sent the man hurling through the air.
"No!" Reiss shrieked, trying to run forward when a hand clamped onto her.
She whipped her head into Cullen's eyes, "They're right, we need to protect the children first. Come on." Like useless fools, they both turned from the battle, running back towards the room that used to house the forge. "The walls are thick here, no way darkspawn could breach them. And there's one door. One way in."
Myra began to cry, the girl having watched her daddy being tossed about like a rag doll before they turned and ran like cowards. "I'm sorry," Reiss whispered to her child, brushing her cheek against the baby's forehead. In the distance all they could hear was the sounds of battle, neither knowing whose sword was hitting metal and whose meat. On occasion a few human sounding 'ah ha's' and 'got ya now' drifted through, but just as many 'shit shit shitting shit' and 'owe, that one hurt' struck as well.
Clinging tight to her child, Reiss had to fight against herself to keep from running back to help. Maker's sake, if she lost Alistair because she hid away like a coward... Tears dripped onto her baby's head, Myra trying to bat them away while she frowned at her mother for getting her wet. Reiss tried to apologize again, when she glanced up to find Cullen glaring through the wall. He looked like a man who was watching his home burn to ash while he stood holding an empty bucket. Through the fight sounds and cries of exhaustion, the pair of them shared a silent look, passing the same fears of what loving a Grey Warden truly meant.
Over the noise came an obvious cry of Lana's, exhausted and pained, "I hate Emissaries!"
The Commander stepped forward to drop Gavin into Reiss' already full arms, "Here."
"What are you doing?" she shouted, struggling to juggle both babies while watching the man unsheathe his sword.
"I can stop the creature's magic," he explained, reminding Reiss how pointless she was amongst them all. Wardens, templars, mages, and an elf who could get really mad sometimes.
He nodded, clearly planning on nothing stopping him, when she said, "Your wife's gonna kill you."
For a moment Cullen paused and whispered, "Better she's alive to do it then." Reiss could try to stop him, but, better three be out there fighting instead of two. Watching the man vanish out the door, Gavin began to fuss at the loss of both of his parents.
"Shush," she tried to calm the babies. With any luck, the others were keeping the horde busy, too busy to care about a couple of children and their nanny. Myra gave in pretty quickly, but Gavin wasn't happy. His wails grew from grumbles to full on tantrum levels, neither of the people he loved most in the world rushing in to answer them.
"Please stop. Your mummy and daddy are busy, but they'll be back. Once the bad men are gone." Three people fighting a horde. And where in all of this was Morrigan? Reiss sneered, probably whisking her comatose son off to safety, as if there was anything in there worth saving. She'd let all of them die to preserve her moral high ground.
More sounds of battle echoed from outside, but it seemed as if the tide was turning. She couldn't be certain which way, but she was hoping beyond belief. "Gavin," Reiss tried to bounce him, but with her arms full there was no way she could manage. "You have to stop crying or..."
A grey head dashed past the entrance.
Fuck.
Reiss fell deeper into the room, hoping it'd miss her among the shadows, but the baby wouldn't stop making unholy noises. "Shh..." she tried, watching in terror as the grey head turned in the doorway and the darkspawn honed in on three easy targets.
It twisted its head like an undead bird, pivoting unnaturally to understand what was before it while dragging a broken leg. Sweet Maker, even that horribly injured it kept going. What were these things?! Reiss had two options, drop the children and try to unsheathe her sword in time, or dodge its first swing and try to run past. Both had about the same failure rate. Her panicking brain kept her sliding backwards until she smacked right into the wall.
At the sound of her heels scrabbling to climb it, the hurlock grinned, its razor teeth oozing with blood and white mucus. Even at this distance, the stench kicked right into her gut; Reiss struggling to not vomit. It wasn't death, but the remains of it -- weeks, perhaps months old, when a body was more soup than anything that was once alive. Raising its sword up, the hurlock prepared to strike a blow.
Out of options, Reiss spun on her heels to face the wall. The kids would be protected from her body while she took the blows. Tensing up, she prepared for the hack against her shoulders or spine. It'd be bad, might kill her, might paralyze her, but she'd buy time for the others to come and save the babies.
The hurlock gibbered and she felt the air of the sword rushing forward, when out of nowhere a force rocketed through the air itself. Reiss flattened into the wall as a body stood where she had
been. "What the...?" Shooting a look over her shoulders, she spotted Morrigan standing there. The hurlock's blade bit into her upper arm and then stopped as if the witch's skin suddenly turned to stone. Glancing down at it, the woman sneered and then blew magic back at the creature.
It screamed as if its skin was on fire, even though no flames erupted. The creature dropped to the ground while the flesh began to melt off of its bones, pieces peeling free like bark off of a birch tree. Maker's breath! Reiss twisted back to the wall to protect the children from a horrific sight until the shrieking stopped. When she turned back, there was only Morrigan glancing at the gash to her arm.
Sensing eyes on her, the witch looked up at the elf and nodded once. Reiss' mouth ran dry, but she returned the nod of thanks. If the witch hadn't stepped in, she'd be dead.
If the witch hadn't stolen her baby, they wouldn't be here.
"We should return to the others," Morrigan said. The witch didn't argue, or make any suggestions Reiss remain in place. She took the lead, easily climbing over dead darkspawn to reveal a battlefield emptied of almost everything. A few hurlocks remained, Alistair approaching carefully while Lana -- crouched behind a pillar and firing off magic when safe -- cast purple bolts at them.
Growling, Cullen jogged up to the last hurlocks, and -- with his sword -- cleaved off both heads. Black blood spurted from the scissored spines, but he was quick to turn from it and slide away.
"Is that the last of them?" Lana asked, sliding out of her perch to inspect the room where they'd been living for the past week. It was an abattoir's kill floor now.
"It is," Morrigan shouted, drawing all the eyes to first her, then the woman behind.
"Maker's breath," Cullen gasped, the sword clattering from his hands as he turned to his son who finally stopped crying at the sound of his father.
Alistair was digging a palm into his side but there was no crimson blood, hopefully just a cramp. He glanced up from the floor to catch Reiss' eye and both said the same prayer of thanks for the other staying alive. Unaware of anything wrong, Myra began to bounce in Reiss' arms, wanting to get down. Like that was going to happen while darkspawn blood seeped into every stone.
"We should close the tunnel up," Morrigan said, lifting her hands. "Lana?"
Hobbling out towards her, the Warden followed suit and together both blasted magic at the exploded tunnel until it collapsed, rocks sealing off the entrance where darkspawn nearly ended them all. The last spell must have been too much for her as Lana collapsed to her knees. For a brief respite, the witch seemed to show pity, but it was Cullen who leaped through blood to rush to his wife's side.
His sword splattered into the darkspawn ichor as he scooped Lana into his arms, the woman looking drained beyond measure. Even with her seeming to be near death, she patted his cheeks and sighed, "Don't think I'm going to let you off for disobeying my orders just because you're really cute." He butted his head against hers, the pair breathing softly together.
Reiss tried to reach over towards Alistair, but he rose out of his cramp lean to met her, and Myra, and the tag-a-long Gavin. "I swear to the Maker, if you ever make me stay out of a fight again..."
"Next one, I stay behind with the baby, you go rushing headlong in," he giggled, tears welling in his eyes as he wrapped his blood soaked arms around her. "I promise with all my heart."
"Are you...?" she hated to ask it, to wonder while she was cowering with their child if he was injured.
"No," Alistair shook his head, "a few close calls, but...seems I'm still somewhat capable of fighting. Right, fellow Warden?" he waved at Lana who remained held tight in her husband's arms.
"Do not think I have forgotten about you keeping your taint from me," she waved her cane as if she intended to bash Alistair for his offense.
He rolled his goofy eyes, in full fluff mode with the danger past, "Since when do women like to hear about my taint?"
"Morrigan is hurt," Reiss said, drawing all the eyes to the witch who cupped a hand around the wound on her arm.
Those yellow eyes narrowed down on Reiss, the one she'd taken a blade for, before turning to Lana, "Tis nothing more than a scratch at most. We have greater problems to solve."
"Not if you could have the blight," Lana groaned, already returning to the ground and somehow managing to hobble towards the witch. She rolled her hands against the witch's thick hide, the air sparkling like a crisp mountain morning.
So close to her, Morrigan almost smiled at this old friend she all but imprisoned in this darkspawn filled hell. "You never could cease helping people."
"Not even the ones who told me to regularly piss off," she snickered.
Why did she do it? Why did the witch take a blade for her?
Reiss wanted to convince herself it was because her only hope to save Kieran was clutched in Reiss' hands, and if she was cut down so could Myra. But that didn't hold much water. Morrigan could have waited until Reiss died, until they were all busy trying to keep her alive to notice the cruel and wicked witch run off with the baby to save her own. Then what was the purpose? Why risk her own hide to save someone she didn't know?
Those yellow eyes struck hers and slightly narrowed.
Because now Reiss owed her a favor.
Or so Morrigan imagined. Too bad for the witch Reiss wasn't trained in the chivalrous code of knights and templars. As far as Reiss was concerned Morrigan would have to take a blade right in the heart to make up for what she did.
Wiggling drew Reiss to her baby who was still doing her damnedest to get out of her arms. "Alistair, can you take her before she drops onto darkspawn blood?"
"Silly kid," he swooped her up high above his head and then blew a few raspberries on her exposed stomach. "You don't want to drink that stuff, believe me, I know. It's no fun." Myra giggled a bit at her father's attention but her true heart's desire was to get down and play.
Where?
There were bodies everywhere, toxic blood, gore. It would all have to be scrubbed before anything could be used, or burned on principle. And even then, it would only hold until the next attack. If the darkspawn knew they were here then...
"We can't stay here," Reiss said, drawing every eye to her. She blinked a moment, realizing it was more aloud than she meant. "It's true. You said the darkspawn sense Wardens, right? Two of you together..."
"I had been trying to mask myself but without knowing Alistair had also regained his taint status," Lana shot a withering look at him, "I hadn't bothered before, but will now."
"So what?" Reiss continued. "So there's less of a chance that we'll have these monsters come tearing through the walls and obliterate us in our sleep. It's still a chance. What if Gavin had been by that wall when it exploded?"
"Reiss, that isn't..."
"No," Cullen stepped towards her and scooped his son up in his arms. For a moment he bumped the end of his nose into his boy's before turning back on the group. "She's right. This is a war of attrition, and soon or later everyone loses those." He stared at his wife, the son at risk cuddling tighter into his arms while she healed the woman who began all of this.
Lana jerked her head at her husband, before turning towards Alistair, "You've got this with me, right Ali? We have ways, we've gotten through the deep roads before. It's..."
Reiss expected Alistair to crumble, to either half agree with the Hero or mumble something incoherently as an answer. His eyes hunted across the pools of black blood, the normally soft brown irises almost pitch dark from the reflection. "I'm no Warden, Lanny. I was in it, for what, a year and a half? You're the only one here who's done the proper deep roading. And you haven't in nearly a decade."
Stumbling towards her, with the baby at the heart of this in his hands, he reached over towards Lana, "Staying here any longer could kill us all."
Lana reached over with her fingers that looked swollen and red from either the magic or being whacked by darkspawn weapons. Gently, she skirted up and down Myra's chubby leg, the girl giggling at the contact. T
he baby's laugh, so foreign in this abode of despair, seemed to strike her to the core. "That's..."
"A problem you shall have to find an answer to," Morrigan spoke up, her chin jutting out. "My son remains trapped in his endless sleep."
At that, Alistair all but leapt into the witch's face, a hand trying to tear his hair free, "I swear to the Maker, right now I want to flat out smash your nose in. To grab up one of those darkspawn swords, dip it in the blood, and cut it across your arm. How would you like that, Morrigan? To put yourself on a ticking fuse, waiting to see how long until death finally drags your rotting soul across the veil to dump down the void."
It was his son too who could die. He never talked about it with Reiss, but it was obvious that the idea of Kieran passing on without him helping was eating away at Alistair. Yet now Reiss could see it in Alistair's face. He would let the boy die, would turn his back on him because he was trying to fight for all of them.
Morrigan's beady yellow eyes drifted over the carnage, her heart no doubt pure ice inside her despicable chest. "That was the deal. I will honor my word, if you will honor yours." She didn't look at the baby she'd cursed, didn't stare at the father she was destroying, or even glance at the mother she'd both doomed and saved. No, Morrigan only had eyes for Lana -- the mage that was her last hope. But the Hero was too busy staring at her own hands to look back.
Turning on her heel, Morrigan limped back to her son. Lana wrapped herself around her husband, burying her lips to Gavin's forehead as she whispered prayers. Joining in with her, Cullen tried to block them off from everyone else with his body. He curled an arm around his wife, trying to create a sanctuary for his little family, but even Reiss could feel a chill in the air. Cullen buried his chin in Lana's hair, but his eye wandered over to Reiss. Nodding imperceptibly, she knew what that meant. Things had to change, one way or another.