by Billy Wong
"I'm fine. It's not like I'm wounded or sick, not that I ever get sick. I just feel more tired than usual, but hey, maybe my body's just reacting more poorly to winter with age. I've always hated the cold, in any case."
"That might be it... you old lady. By the way, I don't know if your mom approves of us bringing all these strangers to sleep in her house. Maybe we should go soon, and not stay overnight."
Hearing him from the kitchen, Lise said, "It's fine—I'd be rude to send them off to sleep elsewhere while Rose rests here, and my daughter certainly needs her rest."
"I'm such a burden," she breathed with a grin. She hardly thought someone who had survived dozens of normally fatal wounds and kept fighting with them "needed" to rest just because she felt tired, but she certainly was grateful for the concern.
Finn nodded. "A proper damsel, you are."
She giggled at the joke, but then looked outside and trembled a bit. "I'm kind of worried, you know. There are a lot of them out there, and this seems a ripe opportunity for them to strike back at us. Even if we can protect ourselves, our children are here, and my mom..."
"We'll manage. It's not like we haven't been in worse spots."
He was right, of course. But Rose couldn't help feeling like this time was different. Maybe she was just being weak, but The Lost... the strongest warriors she'd fought hadn't intimidated her as much as these men who purposelessness gave them purpose. Deathseekers, maybe she should think of them. But not ones that only sought their own deaths, but instead wanted the whole world to die with them.
She awakened in a cold sweat that night. Sitting up with a soft cry of fear, she chided herself immediately. To be so disturbed by whatever foul dreams she'd already forgotten! It would've been embarrassing if she had woken Finn. Then she heard the sounds outside, and realized it hadn't been a dream that roused her, but her senses working in her sleep which had alerted her to very real danger.
"Finn!" she said as she shook her slumbering love. "Wake up!"
"What, Rose? Did you have a nightmare?"
Had she been acting so weak, that he'd think she would wake him for such trivial things? "No, listen! Footsteps, and a lot of them!"
"I hear it. But it could just be drunk-"
A loud bang on the door seemed to dissuade him of that notion. He swung himself out of bed and snatched up his mace and shield. Cursing the fact they didn't have time to armor themselves, Rose too took up her weapons. She ran into her mother's room, shouting, "Everyone in the dining room!" while grabbing her children.
"Mommy, what happening?" Jacob asked with saucer eyes as she carried him and Amber into the dining room, Lise following behind. Rose wanted everyone to be where she could keep an eye on them, in case any of The Lost came in a different way. She set her children on the mattress as Justin rose groggily off it, having just awoken.
"It's going to be okay," she told her kids, "just don't look until I tell you." She knew, however, there was little chance they would listen. Lise sat on the mattress with them, hugging them close to reassure them. Evan arrived and stood in front of their corner to protect them, loading a crossbow Rose had given him.
"You aren't short on enemies," Justin commented.
"Same ones as you." The door shook again with a heavy blow, and this time swung open as the lock broke. The crowd of blue-armored Lost outside advanced into the house only to be met with brutal force by the warrior couple. Rose blocked a descending axe and severed the leg of the first inside, Finn popped the second's skull like an eggshell with his mace, and the third all but flew apart when both their weapons plowed into his middle. But they could hear men entering from windows in the other rooms, and knew they'd soon lose the advantage their little bottleneck gave them.
Evan aimed his crossbow with shaky hands, loosing a bolt which almost miraculously flew through the visor slit of a Lost and dropped him. Justin darted over to the door of Lise's room when a man appeared there and began to trade sword blows with him. Another foe emerged from the guest room door behind the soldier, and despite his dislike of the man Finn rushed to save him. Justin ducked a halberd swipe from behind, but his opponent in front kicked him in the face, knocking him to his back. The Lost behind raised his halberd, then turned to block Finn's blow from the side and was sent hurtling into the wall. Justin parried a downward cut from his first foe, drew a dirk and plunged it into the artery of his inner thigh.
Boots scraped along walls and thudded onto the wood floor all around them as men climbed in from every side of the house, making Rose wonder if the whole remaining membership of The Lost came to avenge their fallen. Many of the invaders fell within moments of entering, Rose and Finn's weapons tearing the life from them in sprays of blood. Their bodies piled up around the windows, forming short walls of armored corpseflesh behind the house's own. But then flaming arrows began to fly in from the windows. Lise crouched over the wailing kids and pulled the mattress in front of them, hardly an adequate shield, but all she could reach without braving the storm of missiles.
Assailed both from range and up close, the defenders were hard-pressed to defend all attacks, and hot arrowheads pierced Rose and Finn's flesh. They patted out the flames when needed and fought on, killing, killing, killing. Rose looked outside and saw a trio of archers drawing back their bows. She snatched up a dead Lost's greatsword and hurled it spinning sideways out a window, cutting through the side of the frame as it was too big to pass cleanly through, still retaining enough momentum to behead one man and open another's throat. The third man loosed; she caught the arrow, sneered, and threw it back into his eye.
"Evan," she said as he shot a bolt into the solar plexus of a man who knelt atop him after tackling him down, "put out the flames!" He had felled several foes, acquitting himself well for someone with little experience, but somebody needed to keep their shelter from burning down.
Evan went around stomping out arrows, hissed in pain as one sprouted from his arm and stared in fear as his injurer nocked another. Finn threw a dropped spear through that man's face and Evan continued his firefighting duty, clutching his tricep.
Seeing a less sturdy friend injured, Rose yelled hoarsely and redoubled her efforts, slashing through many a neck and limb as she flew around the room like a whirlwind of death. But her assault slowed when a crossbow bolt pierced the mattress in the corner and her mother cried out. Rose ran there, lifting the mattress to reveal Lise moaning with a cruel steel point lodged in her calf. Not likely a fatal wound, but it angered Rose more than enough.
Face contorted with pain, Lise nodded for her to go. She heard Justin yell for help and looked to see a Lost charging him, thick hand-and-a-half sword raised high as he grappled with another foe. She darted to aid her ally, deflected his second attacker's falling blade with her own. Her kick pushed the man back, then she turned to ward off a finishing stroke delivered by his first opponent towards a stunned Justin, who stumbled away bleeding profusely from the head. The sword glanced from her rounded shield, and she hewed the man's other arm off at the shoulder. Taking advantage of her distraction, her intact enemy stabbed at her back.
Spinning around, Rose tried to react, but she felt oddly slow and her movement came too late. As she turned, the blade punched into her flank and all the way through her waist to emerge from the other side. She gasped, her innards shredded by the devastating blow. Unyielding as ever, she rammed her elbow into her attacker's face, driving him back to drag the sword from her torso. She followed up with a quick slash which dropped him dead to the ground with his head nearly separated from his body. Then, stricken with cataclysmic agony while blood sprayed out from both sides of her middle, she turned slowly towards the hazy image of her one true love. She took two steps forward, then the ground came rushing up to meet her.
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Seeing his wife take the gruesome wound sideways through her body, Finn thought her slain for a heartstopping moment as she swooned and fell towards him. Somehow she pushed herself up on her hands and knees, then t
o her feet and walked on, briefly grabbing his shoulder for support as he knocked a Lost away missing half his head. Seeing the rivulets of blood and other fluids running down her chin like grisly little waterfalls, he gulped. "Rose..."
She killed a Lost with a thrust which split his heart and gasped, "I'm o-okay. I mean, how m-many times have I been run t-through?" But her whisper of a voice sounded so pained.
"Not like that," he said as they slew another foe each with downward swings of their weapons.
"I... can still go." Rose lurched toward the door looking about to collapse, but clove an entering man's helmet and skull in twain down the middle. Wrenching her sword free while she warded off blows with her shield, Rose seemed almost godlike despite or perhaps because of her gushing wounds, which appeared to impair her little for the moment. But her strength was an illusion, for weakness caught up to her and she soon faltered before the onslaught. Finn could do nothing to help, himself occupied by half a dozen opponents. He bore many wounds of his own, burning gashes where his armor had given under enemy blades, but worried much more about Rose's organ deep one. She stumbled back cursing, covered in new hurts, but still killing a man for every step she gave.
A huge Lost with silver gauntlets and pauldrons stepped into the fray, striking Rose in the maimed side with a great flail. The brutal hit spun her around to stagger into Finn's arms, hampering the ability of both to move. He watched helplessly while the Lost stepped forward with lightning speed and chopped down with the axe in his other hand, burying it in Rose's back even as she tried to sidestep. It entered just to the left of her right shoulder blade, and her whole body stiffened as the great metal hunk went through her splintered ribs to rend her precious lung.
His sight filling with the red of rage, Finn drew his mace back far and swung it in an arc around her sagging body to smash the silver Lost's left shoulder. He heard bones shatter under the thick metal plate which crumpled like a sheet of tin. The man screamed, but still held onto the axe buried inside Rose's body. Finn leaned back to glance at his beloved's face, heart pounding with terror that he would find he held a staring corpse. But no—mangled mess though she was, blood streaming from her mouth and nostrils, his amazing wife turned hard, ripping herself free of the huge axe, and raised her weapons in defiance with shaking arms.
Wounded enough to kill perhaps any other human, Rose sneered and slammed her shield rim into the silver Lost's face, putting a considerable dent in his heavy helm. He fell back into his companions and she leveled her sword at them. "I'm going to kill every one of you for hurting my mom."
She charged, back gaping open like she'd been in the middle of getting dissected, sides still gushing crimson rivers. The silver one backed away amongst his fellows as if conceding himself to be outmatched. Finn followed his love as she pushed forward against the crowd, both killing Lost after Lost, driving them out of the cottage. Deepening blood splattered around their feet as they tried to chase the man who must lead their enemies. But now The Lost apparently decided to cut their losses and turned to flee, scattering in all directions to disappear into the darkness of the night. Finn grabbed up an axe and threw it at a running part-silvery figure, but another got in the way and tumbled through the grass with the axe in his spine—and his target was gone.
Her face was white with blood loss and her voice slurred, but even as Finn wrapped her swaying body in his arms and laid her down, Rose said, "No, let's c-chase them and finish t-them off."
Mouth dry with fear that even she could not recover from such awful wounds, he cradled her head in his lap and stroked her hair. "We couldn't catch many of them now, love. Let's rest until morning and then decide what to do." But he doubted she would be able to do much then. Incredibly difficult to kill though she was, even she'd be weak for a while assuming she could survive this. Already she settled into his arms like to sleep... or, he shuddered to think, die...
Justin stepped out of the house, a blood-covered hand grasping his head. Evan followed, supporting a pale Lise who stared terrified at her daughter, who now lay still. The kids tried to come see too, little faces full of worry, but to Finn's gratitude Justin cut them off and herded them back inside.
"How is she..?" Lise asked.
"I don't know," Finn whispered. "But she's alive."
He gaped when she moved again, and wriggled out of his arms to stand with unfathomable determination and begin walking in the direction of her horse. She saw it as he did, their mounts lying butchered in the little stable by the house. Unrelenting, she turned to walk in the direction towards which the silver Lost had fled, features tight with pain and anger. Her damaged vitals must still leak and hemorrhage badly inside her, and she could not be getting the breath she needed with one working lung. Yet her steps were steady and swift, though she must have exerted every ounce of her will to make them so.
Forcing himself to his own weary feet, Finn caught up to her and grabbed her hand. "What are you doing? You're going to kill yourself!"
"They hurt my mom," she said simply, and kept walking.
"Rose!" Lise wailed, clearly aware just how badly she was hurt. "Come back, I don't need you to go. I want you right here... to protect me."
Even in her condition, Rose could tell what her mother was trying to do, and replied stubbornly, "I can still go on, a little longer. I'm famous for my inhuman fortitude, remember?"
Finn didn't forcefully stop her from walking, but held her by the waist as she did, prepared to catch her in case she fell while he continued to talk. "But even you have limits, and I don't want to see you die pushing them too far... besides, we can't possibly catch them. I'm sure they had mounts waiting in case they needed a fast escape, and since they killed ours..."
Finally, she agreed, "You're right, we can't catch their horses on foot. I just wish-" Without warning she stopped, grabbing her midsection as her face twisted into a mask of anguish and her knees buckled below her.
Finn lowered her to the ground, where she moaned and shook with spasms. "Hold on, Rose!" he begged as panic seized him. "What's wrong?! Don't die, please!"
"Gods, i-it feels like I'm pissing my guts o-out," she gasped pitifully.
Lise stood frozen with horror, crying but otherwise still as a statue. Finn took Rose's trembling hand, helpless to do anything meaningful for his fading wife, and touched her face while he began to cry. "I love you more than I could ever love anything, Rose. I'm so sorry I couldn't... save you." Only then did he notice the spot of wetness between her legs. But the smell was that not of urine, but blood. Confused, he pulled down her pants. People didn't actually piss out their guts when they died, normally...
What he saw made him nearly faint with shock, for he saw blood pouring out of her womanhood like she was giving birth again, coating her thick thighs along with other sticky fluids. As he recognized the spongy material among the mix, he understood. "Rose," he told her in a voice choked when he found it, "you were pregnant."
She didn't reply, but tears ran without pause from her comprehending eyes. Finn held her as she quietly cried, unable to even give voice to the overwhelming grief they shared for the child they could have had, but never would. Now he knew why she'd grown slower and more prone to nausea; she must have been impregnated recently, and continued adventuring, fighting, without ever knowing her wonderful condition.
For a moment, Finn wondered how Rose could have not noticed missing her period, but then he remembered the state of her oft-wounded innards. If she missed a month or two, she rarely gave it much thought, for her organs were not the most reliable after all the times they'd been torn with sharp blades or otherwise damaged. And though her godlike durability had saved her life so many times, it might have cost her that of her baby. In overlooking the cause of her symptoms, she hadn't realized her newfound motherhood, and failed to take any measures to protect the life growing inside her. Finn knew she'd blame herself for that.
"It wasn't your fault," he said trying to soothe her, "you did great..."
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nbsp; She didn't react and lay limp in his arms, eyes staring blankly into space and jaw slack. She didn't seem to be physically dying as Finn had feared, but was as still as if dead, apparently lifeless except for the soft, almost peaceful breaths that issued from her mouth along with small spurts of blood. Looking up from his stricken wife, he saw Evan crying, holding an unconscious Lise who had fainted from the ghastly sight of her daughter's miscarriage. Even Justin's eyes brimmed with tears as he gazed now with sympathy upon her despondent form. Lifting her up, Finn walked back to the house, heart breaking as he saw his mighty love's once-brilliant eyes dull with despair, and there was nothing he could have hated more than those who'd darkened her light.
Chapter 4
Without Rose's words to enlighten him on how she felt, Finn could hardly tell how her recovery was progressing. Four days after the tragic blow she'd suffered, she still barely talked, telling Finn only that she was "fine" in a small, broken voice which hardly supported her assertion. As freakishly resilient as her body was, her unparalleled willpower played just as big a part in her survival of wounds that should been fatal time and time again. Though she must want to live for their two children who were still alive and him, he feared how much her trauma might have sapped that will.
Justin had snuck away the night after the battle, taking Evan with him. Though Finn knew he would force the seer to go see Victor against his will, he didn't want to leave Rose's side to chase them, nor make her worry. So, as she didn't ask about them, he didn't mention it.
He went to the kitchen to pick up something to feed his wife. As she had every time Finn emerged from their room since it happened, Lise asked, "Any change?"
Finn shook his head hopelessly, but admitted, "Her breathing seems a little easier now. But the grievous wound to her spirit isn't as easily healed as the ones to her flesh. She's really hurting." And he was afraid she would never be the same.