Camaro's Tale

Part 2 Written by Lady Isolde   The girl screamed as the man's blade cut clean the head of the woman who had taught her many lessons of life and words. Almost in slow motion it seemed to her that the woman, whom she now realized she knew nothing of at all, sank to the ground, her life's blood pulsing from the now headless body. The girl's hazel eyes looking up, to meet the hungry gaze of the soldier as he held his side and smiled. So he would only have one plaything then. It matters not, and the cut to his side would heal...hopefully. But ah!...such a young prize as this is best to be enjoyed while she is still numb. Only when they become aware of what is to become of them do they start to scream...and then the real fun begins. ...He reaches for her...his bloody hand clawing at her white tunic as spittle drips from his maw. She shrinks back in horror as it dawns on her what he has in store. Alone, the innkeeper dead, Altheas dead, the folk she knows screaming as they are cut down. Her world spins out of control and she feels ready to faint.   It is then that the stable door bursts open. Liam stands just inside...his grey eyes burn. An Arrow shoots forth and penetrates deep into the man's forhead with such impact as to push his head back. He falls. So hard was the force his brain had no time to register a thing. The leer still frozen on his features. Liam grabs the girl, looking her over quickly to make certain she is not hurt. His eyes linger a moment to the body of his now dead kin, and her husband, pain shows on his face for only a moment before he pulls the stunned girl after him, sets her to a mount...then leads her and the mount out of the stables. The tree line is next to the inn, and soon, they are within the shadows of the old trees. The shock fades...and the girl weeps softly for those left behind, and of her fate. Slowly the sounds of the village fade, to be replaced with the sounds of the wood. Liam leading the mount keeps silent, to let the girl mourn and sort her thoughts out as best she can by herself.   The day waxed to eve, when Liam finally let them set up camp. Neither had spoken, instead each had kept their thoughts to themselves. The mount was tethered to a tree nearby, and munched contently at the green shots of grass that had come with the spring. Liam sat cross-legged across from her at the fire, waxing the string of his bow. She sat quietly watching him, the events of the day still playing out in her mind. The food had been eaten, but no thought was of the flavor at all. It was as the first stars began to dot the sky that Liam placed his bow aside and looked to the quiet girl across from him. She readied herself for the words that would surely come from his mouth. How she was responsible for his kin's death. How she had stood idle as Altheas was struck down. Instead his words startled her, for he asked, what she carried in the bag that she still clutched to herself. The bag Altheas had thrust into her grasp as they fled the inn had been forgotten in their flight from the village. Curiosity replaced her sadness a moment as she looked to the leather pouch on her lap. With another glance to Liam, she then folded the flap back to look inside.   The first object she brought forth was a small dagger, simple and clean edged. The blade shone from the light of the fire. Well oiled and clean. The hilt was wrapped in leather with odd scribings burned into it. Though she looked hard to the lettering she could not fathom their meaning, and so with tenderness, she set the blade aside. She then brought forth a small square leather pouch, and folding its flap back revealed parchment. Many leafs with a light cream colour to them. She dug again into the bag and found a small bracelet of silver. Two serpents biting each other's tails to make a circle, with small emerald stones set for the eyes. She slipped it onto her wrist and admired it in the firelight a moment. She had ne'er owned such a thing before and was breathless a moment as it gleamed on her wrist in the light. More excited she dove into the bag again to find flint, soap, kerchiefs, maps, healing salve and herbs as well as a small rectangular box about a foot in length. Narrow it was. She opened it slowly to reveal the silver quill that she had long admired on the mantle, nestled in satin. It was this object that greeted her that made her feel all the events of the day. It more than anything reminded her of Altheas and all the hours they had spent side by side patiently learning letters and a little of the world outside the village. It was the quill that brought all she had kept inside her out and she began to cry. Soft weeping, the kind that sheds single tears with no sound. She buried her face in her hands as the emotion swept through her. And she did not look up as she heard Liam stir from across the fire and approach, nor did she stop as she felt his cloak envelope her and his arm come about her shoulder in quiet comfort. He said no words at all, he only gave of himself in silence. The two sat there, by the light of the fire as they mourned what they had lost together. His arm gentle about her shoulders as she wept for her friend. Her life. Her village. And the stars shone down upon them as the only witnesses.