Ramora caught his swing easily, letting the magic go to work, electricity sparking between her blade and his, sending him away with a howl of agony. Her Avatar had nothing left, however, and she urged it to rest as it whimpered out a song of regret.
Shaking himself, the Lieutenant struggled to clear his vision, the shock the witch had given him leaving him dazed. Spotting his second-in-command as he shoved several villagers away and circled behind her, Gota grinned and lunged for her. She would never be able to react in time to them both and her head was as good as his.
Spotting his wicked smile, Ramora called on her Divine Gift and saw everything. The Orc behind her, bringing his weapon to bear, was going to go for her neck as the Lieutenant tied up her sword in front. Death was inescapable.
For anyone not blessed by the Divine Wolf, anyway.
Diem scrambled back, searching for anything he could use to defend himself as the Orc loomed over him, sword raised to end him. Silently, he made peace with it, and hoped Kate would do right by Chara after he was gone. Daniel, he felt, would make a fine man, fit to guide their family on after he was dead.
As the Orc plunged down, an arrow lodged in his throat the same moment a sword split his chest from behind. The Orc gurgled as he fell, his sword missing Diem. Jerking his head up, he saw his daughter yank the blade from the Demon Seed’s back as Daniel lowered his bow a few feet away.
He’d never been so proud in all his life.
Ramora waited until Gota reached her before dropping to a knee, already spinning her body, her sword pulled tight. The Lieutenant's thrust missed her by a mile, while his second-in-command felt the wide Heavensteel blade of the Blessed's sword slide through his armor and flesh before he could even swing at her.
Dropping the blade, the Orc fell back a step, screaming in pain as he clutched his gut and tried to hold his insides from spilling. Gota had time to be shocked before Ramora finished her spin, catching the flat of her blade against his chin and throwing him back.
Landing, the Orc rolled back to his feet as the Blessed kicked out behind her, driving the other Orc's hands into the wound she’d made. With a scream, he jerked them back, spilling his guts all over the road in a steaming pile. She smiled as he gurgled and waved Gota forward.
A quick glance around showed him he stood alone. He wouldn't escape the archers, or the Blessed. Accepting this, he readied his weapon as she came at him, catching her Heavensteel sword against his Demon-forged one and side stepping, relaxing his grip so he could jerk the pommel upwards, her sword helping him drive it into her face with enough momentum to stagger her.
Die he may, today, but he would take a Blessed with him.
As Ramora fell back, Chara held out a hand, pulling her father to his feet. He grabbed her and held her close for a moment, then shook her, angry she had endangered herself. He saw she was paying him no mind, though, for the Orc Lieutenant was advancing on the stunned Blessed.
Her vision dancing, Ramora fell back on her Divine Gift, sensing each attack the Lieutenant threw at her. Always, her sword was able to block and parry his assaults as she wiped blood from her eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to settle the wavering landscape.
"Die, damn you!" Gota snarled, launching a dizzying assault on her. Letting her Gift guide her hand, she held him back as she turned to look at him, squinting to settle her sight.
His next attack she caught, spinning her sword in her hand to carry it over his, pushing his blade down into the ground. Caught off guard, he could only gasp as she punched him in the face, staggering him, following it by driving the hilt of her weapon into his chest and knocking him back.
Panting, he tried to spin away, desperate to create room to fight her as she pursued, clutching the massive weapon in both hands to bring it up and down onto his head. Somehow, he got his blade up in time and blocked it, falling to a knee as he did. Shoving back, he regained his feet as her sword swung away and low, creating an opening.
Pulling back, he made to thrust, but missed as Ramora let the momentum of her sword carry her, turning on her heel, catching his blade and driving it down as she brought the greatsword back around and pierced his chest. To her surprise, a sword cut in from the other side, erupting from his throat.
Yanking back, she let him fall, spotting Chara behind him, arms dragged down as the Demon Seed fell. Ramora could only stare for a moment, panting from the exertion of the battle, before jabbing a finger at the young woman, then at the inn.
Chara shrugged timidly. "Like I'm going to hide and cower. That's for the womenfolk."
Rolling her eyes, Ramora sank down, falling into a sitting position as the villagers raised a cheer. The Demon Seed were dead, and not a single one of the townsfolk had fallen.
Talbor nodded as he rose, applauding them. Maybe now, Little Sister would learn she need not carry the world on her own. His face darkened slightly as Chara helped Ramora to her feet and let the Blessed lean on her.
As much as he hated it, Rakiss was right. Chara needed to leave with her.
Chapter Nine
RAMORA SCOWLED as John Kal cleaned the wound between her eyes, the medicinal herbs stinging. It was embarrassing for the Blessed of Ramor to be the only one to take an injury in a battle full of farmers and craftsmen. Spotting her self-pitying look, John pressed harder, making her grimace.
"Keep an eye on the ball, next time," the old healer laughed, making her pout.
It couldn't hold for long, however. All around her, the people of Rheumer were celebrating their victory, drinking heartily, laughing, cheering, and singing praises to the War Wolf for guiding their hands. Slowly, a smile crawled across her lips as she listened.
John smirked. "There's a better look on you, Priestess. More feminine, at least. Makes you look almost attractive, and what with you being a mute, men could get the idea you would make a perfect wife."
Ramora drove her fist into his stomach with a sweet smile. John coughed heavily.
"Forget I said anything," he wheezed.
"She will," Chara said as she leaned over the chair Ramora set in. "Just don't go thinking you can get handsy, John Kal."
"Perish the thought," the healer chuckled, handing over his tools to Lucy.
Giving Chara a slight smile, the young woman helped her father up, and bowed in thanks to the warrior. Ramora nodded in return as the two headed away, Lucy giving a sad, but proud look back.
Ramora nudged her friend as she sat in the chair John had vacated, nodding towards Lucy and giving a wink. Chara blushed a bit and shrugged.
"She means so much to me, I can't even say," she admitted. "I don't know if it's love, though, or if I'll ever even get to find out. Her dad will surely send her away when he learns of us."
Ramora nodded, dropping a hand on Chara's shoulder and giving what she hoped was a comforting smile. She knew, though, there was nothing she could do about that. With Talbor's help, she had freed the young woman from a loveless marriage, but her path was hers to find.
Speaking of the Ascended, she cast about only to find him whispering something to Diem. After a moment, the innkeeper nodded and smiled, shaking the demigod’s hand. Ramora had to wonder what mischief he was up to this time.
"You sure you’re okay?" Chara asked, dragging her back.
Giving a nod, she lifted her arm, showing the muscle in it.
"Yes, you’re tough as nails," the young woman dead-panned. "Which is why I killed more Orcs than you."
Ramora gave her a shocked look that made her laugh, a sound as light and merry as the sun. A grin spreading across her face, she could no longer deny she had formed attachments. Ones she cherished, that filled her heart, and made her feel closer to whole.
Her Avatar sang a song of sexual pleasure, making her grimace inwardly. With a loving touch, she sent the spirit to rest. It had expended itself heavily today, and needed time to recover. With a yawn like wind chimes, it curled around her heart, making her feel warm.
"When are you leaving?" Chara asked
, turning serious. Sadness touched her eyes at the question, but she faced the reality with strength, making the warrior proud.
Ramora swept a finger in an arc, and then mimed sleeping. Tomorrow would do; she wanted a good night’s rest after her battle with the Orc.
The young woman nodded. "If it isn't too much to ask, maybe tonight, I could... you know..."
With a silent laugh, Ramora grasped her hand and held it, nodding. She would be happy to hold her friend again as she slept. She’d known no nightmares with the young woman curled against her, something she couldn't say was always true when she slept alone.
Chara blushed furiously. "Thanks. I like being with you."
Ramora touched her heart and then her friend’s nose, grinning, drawing a smile from her as well. The feeling was mutual.
"If I could have your attention, please," Diem yelled, stepping up onto one of the tables. "Quiet now, everyone, quiet."
Slowly, the raucous room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. Chara squeezed Ramora's hand in her lap as they did as well.
"So, today we showed the Demon Gods why they’re wise to keep their minions out of Fival, yeah?" he asked, getting a crashing cheer in return that shook the windows.
"We have so much to thank the Gods for this day," he continued as they fell silent again. "Our health and homes, our families, and food on our table. We’re blessed, each of us. We also have them to thank for sending us a Blessed, without whom, we never would’ve known the Demon Seed were at our door. Because of her, and her Ascended, we had time to prepare, and fight. Let us all raise a glass in honor of our friends, Ramora and Talbor!"
As one, the crowd turned, lifting their hands to the Blessed and the Ascended. Ramora bowed deeply, feeling overwhelmed, while Talbor sighed in joy and drank up their accolades.
When she raised her eyes again, Ramora found Kate's gaze upon her. Slowly, the woman’s look softened as she lifted a glass and nodded. With an easy smile, Ramora returned the gesture.
Miracles do happen after all, she thought.
"Tonight, we hold a feast in their honor!" Diem shouted. "Let it spill out into the street, for all are welcome, as we tap every keg, empty the larder, and raise enough noise, the Heavens themselves will shake from it!"
With the cheers resonating around them, Ramora tightened her grip on Chara's hand, letting the world fall away as she lifted her glass to the young woman by her side. Blushing once more, Chara did the same to the warrior.
Talbor watched, and smiled.
Invisible to the mortals, Rakiss did the same.
Night had fallen by the time people began to wind their way home, their bellies full, and their vision blurred from too much wine. Tables that had been carried out into the street were left to be picked up later, as the torches lining the street began to burn low. Crickets sang from the darkened corners, lulling the people of Rheumer off to sleep.
Ramora waved to all who headed away as Chara drifted by her side, nodding in and out of sleep. Though Kate had always refused to let her drink before, that night, she’d made an exception, and the young woman was half gone to the spirits.
Near them, Talbor drained his cup and patted his stomach, belching loudly, which drew a look of annoyance from the warrior. He shrugged and settled back, content to let her think what she would. It was rare he got to attend feasts thrown by mortals in honor of the Gods, and he’d fully enjoyed it.
Across from the two women, Daniel watched the Ascended with a grin, shaking his head at the inappropriate attitude of the demigod. He’d always held a certain reverence for those who served the Gods directly, and had learned the last day that they could be as average as he. It made him feel closer to the deities who guided the fates of all who lived.
A ways off, on the porch of the inn, Diem spoke softly with Kate, who looked less than pleased. Ramora could imagine little would make that one happy, save having her daughter pregnant by the butcher’s boy. She’d met him during the feast, and while it was true he was a kind and gentle soul, his soft stammer, shy demeanor, and fumbling had made it clear to her why the fierce Chara had no interest in him.
Only a man, or woman, as strong as her would ever be able capture the young woman’s heart. Ramora rather envied whoever they were, for as Chara drifted and wobbled in her seat, she had to admit she cared for her more than a little. She would miss her when she left, more than she could put to words, even if she’d been able to.
Reaching out to ease the girl’s head onto her shoulder, Ramora chuckled silently as Chara drooled, smiling broadly in her half-slumbering state. Glancing over at Daniel, she got a shrug from the young man, as if to say that was simply how his sister was.
A moment later, Diem approached, grinning at his daughter before motioning to the Blessed, saying, "If I may, Ramora, a word with you."
She nodded and rose, easing the young woman off her, only to rouse her enough she noticed her own state and fumbled to wipe her chin. Patting her on the shoulder, Ramora followed Diem back to the porch, where an anxious Kate waited, foot tapping in agitation.
"I hope you'll forgive me asking a favor of you after all you've already done for us," the old soldier said, wrapping an arm around his wife. "But I'm hoping you'll do us one all the same."
With a nod, Ramora gestured for him to continue, already knowing there was nothing the man could ask of her she wouldn’t grant.
With a deep breath, he looked to Kate, who frowned and wiped her eyes, making Ramora wonder just what he could possibly be about to ask. "When you go, in search of this man you seek, would you at least consider taking Chara with you?"
Stunned, Ramora admitted there might be one thing after all she could refuse.
Seeing her hesitance, Diem said quickly, "I know it's a lot to ask, but the truth is, we know that Chara isn't content to stay here. Sooner or later, she's going to run away, or travel to Adel and not come home. There's nothing we can do about it, and I guess we'd just rather have her be in the company of someone who can protect her."
Uncertain, Ramora looked away, pondering their request, and found Talbor leaning against the railing of the steps, grinning. Beside him, Chara stared up at her parents, eyes wide with disbelief, and hope.
Jabbing a finger at the Ascended, the warrior silently accused him of orchestrating this.
"Oh, come now," he whined. "Just because I suggested it doesn't make it my idea, or my fault!"
Folding her arms over her chest, she gave him an irritated glare.
"Well, maybe a little, but you have to admit, it's not a bad idea," he muttered, managing to look ever so slightly ashamed.
Shaking her head, Ramora turned to Kate, waving her to speak. Surprised, the woman looked first to her husband, then her daughter. Turning back to the Blessed, she nodded slowly.
"I don't like it; I won't lie. However, Diem is right. Sooner or later, she's going to run off. If she's to go, at least in your company, much as I hate it, she'll be reasonably safe."
"Mom?" Chara gasped. "Really?"
"I'd rather you stay here and marry Hale," Kate snapped, and then softened. "But I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that being something I dreamed for you. You should go, Chara, and find what makes you happy."
Flying up the steps, she wrapped her mother in a tight embrace, extending it to her father a moment later. Ramora sighed, leaning against a support post, and shook her head, giving Talbor another annoyed look.
"Pish, posh, Little Sister," he said, easing up next to her. "You'll need someone who can speak for you. Otherwise, you'll never get anything done. I'd rather you tend this matter quickly, so you can return home, where you belong."
Ramora shook her head again, still uncertain, until Chara turned to face her, hazel eyes bright with hope. Her warrior heart melted and, reluctantly, she nodded her agreement.
Before she could react, the young woman had her hugged up, holding her tight, showering her with thanks. Somehow, a smile made its way unbidden to the warrior’s face as she ga
thered the young woman in her arms, and held her.
The two slept easily, and deep that night, wrapped in each other’s arms.
"Ramora, wait up," Diem called as he hobbled down the steps of the inn.
She paused in her final check of the horses as the old solider reached her, giving him a mildly amused look as he stretched his knee. The look he returned her was less humorous, making her snicker silently.
"I remembered," he told her. "Where I saw that dragon banner you showed me."
The mirth fled her face as she took him by the shoulders, eyes pleading. Calmly, he reassured her as Chara exited the inn, dressed in leather riding pants and a loose cotton shirt, a satchel slung over her shoulder. Taking the steps two at a time, the young woman all but ran to join them, her mother and brother trailing her.
"Back in my soldier days," Diem said. "My unit went up to Cybalt to do some practice missions. Part of the whole alliance the two Kings have, you see. Helped us work together in times of emergency."
Ramora waved him to get to the point.
"Anyway," he said, seeing her impatience. "We were sent to patrol the foothills of the Ice Mountains, along Cybalt's border, my unit and one of theirs. We got caught up in a snowstorm, and after wandering half a day, came upon a sorcerer’s tower."
A frown darkened the warrior’s face. She had little respect for sorcerers, knowing the truth of their history that many in the Middle World had forgotten.
"Thanks to the storm, we ended up being stuck there for several weeks," Diem continued. "Kind man, the sorcerer, though I can't recall his name now. Very gracious host. We spent the time reading in his library for the most part, and I remember now I saw that banner in one of his books. I forget which one, or what it was about, but I'm sure that's it."
Giving the old man a smile, she clasped his hand, thanking him. It wasn't much, but it was a lead.
"Mind yourself, though," he added. "The fellow had a mighty big Werecat as a bodyguard. Polite enough, as Werebeasts go, but intimidating as all the Hells."
Ramora knew full well how the Werefolk were made in the Middle World, the blood magic sorcerers used to bring them to life. Just as she knew the often cruel way they treated the souls they’d stolen to act as their servants. Her frown spoke volumes.
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