She dismounts unsteadily and lets the stable-hands go about their work taking care of the horse, paying them the tip that she’d seen the others give, from the money they’d given her to make up for her lost coin purse. The rest of the five are at the stables as well, and had apparently started to get worried that she wasn’t back yet. Iris in particular had been saddling up her black mare to ride out and look for Leah, a worried yet stubborn look on her face.
“What, you don’t trust me?” Leah jokes, as Beeswax is led into her stall. “After all the trust I’ve shown you guys?”
Iris grumbles a bit, dismounting her large, comparatively dainty black horse – then again, Iris is fairly dainty-looking until she picks up that war-hammer; maybe I shouldn’t assume. “I do, I just…get worried, sometimes. Especially if you’re wandering around without your memories. I gotta look out for you, dummy.” Iris punches her shoulder gently. “Gotta earn that trust.”
At practice that afternoon, Leah sits on the bench honing everyone’s fighting weapons; the movement is soothing and reassures her, and she can do it well without thinking – which, of course, leaves her mind open for wandering. And wander it does, to two nights previous, and the feeling of being close to someone, in the dark, hiding behind closed doors, muffling moans.
She stops herself from squirming on the bench and focuses on not cutting herself while honing the larger of Meredith’s two swords.
When Vivitha comes to sit down next to her, to string her bow in preparation for target practice, Leah decides to fish for some more information. “Until my memories come back, I’m a little under-equipped.”
“We’ll cover for you,” Vivitha says without hesitation.
Surprised by how touched she feels, Leah presses on. “In the meantime, I was hoping to relearn some of the important stuff. Namely, about Seffon.”
Vivitha sets aside her bow and gives Leah her full attention. “What do you want to know?”
Leah gestures broadly. “Everything. Who is he? Why do we fight him? Why is he Valerin’s enemy? What are his skills, defences?”
Vivitha seems uncomfortable. “Have you remembered anything from your time captive that has upset you?”
“No, I just want to know.”
Vivitha returns to restringing her bow, then checking the fletching of her arrows. “Seffon has declared himself, by dint of his might and reputation, a Lord in the north-east part of the lost Jun province. He’s a magic-user, and therefore a threat to Valerin’s safety and position within Volst.”
Leah can’t follow what that means, but before Vivitha can explain, a horn sounds far away; gradually, more and more start up, getting closer.
“What’s happening?” she asks, but the five have already moved away and started gearing up, trading their practice arms for their newly sharpened real ones.
Meredith takes her sword from Leah, sheathing it, then grabs her helmet. “The alarm means that Seffon’s forces have been spotted approaching the city.”
“Damn, speak of the Devil and he shall appear.”
“Whats a Devil?” Vivitha asks.
Leah flails a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just something I heard somewhere, on the ride back from Wellen’s place.” Vivitha does not even stay to hear the explanation; she is slipping on her bracers and tugging the straps, flexing her hands.
The stable-hands are already bringing out the horses, including Beeswax. Leah tries to talk her way out, stammering that she must stay to protect Jeno, but the others sweep her along with them, Kain helping her into her armour then turning around so Leah can tighten the buckles of her mail shirt. Leah mounts Beeswax and takes her short-spear and shield as they are thrust into her hands. The five charge out the south entrance and down, then curve onto the bridge heading west, where the first call came from.
Leah thinks as they ride hard to the edge of the city. I have to keep up appearances, or the people with power will find out something is really wrong. I can’t fight, but I have to pretend, or else I put myself, and my team, in a bad light. If I fight and I do a shitty job – likely – I put the team in danger. She shakes the thoughts out. If auto-pilot has worked so far, I see no reason not to rely on it now.
In the end the city’s garrison responded a hair’s breadth earlier than the five did. The five arrive in the farmland surrounding the city to see a battle already in swing, between about twenty city guards and about fifteen foreigners in red uniforms.
The five turn the already turned tides even further, with Vivitha hanging back and firing at those trying to flee, Iris and Meredith fighting mounted, and Kain going in on foot to look for anyone trying to sneak unnoticed past the skirmish and into the city. Leah hangs back, watching the dance of carnage, fascinated and horrified and not wanting to take part in the slightest. Vivitha spares a disapproving glance at her inaction, but makes no comment.
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Then, one man in red rushes her on his mount. Vivitha dodges quickly back on her steed, and Beeswax reacts before her rider can, going into a charge; Leah lifts her shield without realising it and as they approach she bashes the edge against his helmet, knocking him off his horse.
Her shoddy balance makes her fall as well, and she hits her ribs on the landing. The enemy stands up first, dazed, and Leah scrambles to get up, leaning on her spear as a cane, ribs aching. The enemy draws a bastard sword and Leah reacts in fear, swinging her spear at his head and knocking him dizzy again, then catching the spear and thrusting it forward, mainly with the hope of scaring him away.
He hasn’t yet gotten his balance when she lunges, though, so instead of dodging the spear he stands as it slashes straight through the gap between abdomen plate and leg plates, up into his gut. Blood dribbles thickly like a weak garden hose, and from his throat comes a similar sound. Leah nearly vomits, but doesn’t.
Beeswax has come back around and is nudging at her back; Leah tears her eyes away from the dying man to the rest of the fight. The remainder of the invading force is already dead, and the city guards are all mounted or mounting back up, with Meredith and the leader of the guards taking a survey of the dead; removing helmets, checking weapons and pockets for clues to this small force’s purpose in coming here.
Leah leans over to retrieve her spear, and finds a scroll case at the man’s hip. She takes it and uncaps it at arm’s length, in case of a trap. Kain comes over to see what she’s found, and they both read the letter contained inside; it is written in a language neither understands, but Leah thinks some of the words look familiar, like English but old-fashioned. The bottom is signed King Seffon, with a symbol of a red and black shield bookended by cattails.
Kain rerolls the scroll and puts it back in the case. “I’m going to give this to Meredith. Check for any others.” Leah does so, but finds nothing.
The five ride back, the city guard splitting off early on to go to their outpost near the bank of the river. Leah watches them go, then advances until she is even with Meredith.
“Why did we have to ride out, if the city has so many guards?”
“We were hired to defeat Seffon on his land, but we must still make a show of defending Valerin,” Meredith explains. She then continues, a bit more sourly, “Also, I don’t trust that the city guards would tell me all they’d learned about Seffon from what they find on his men, unless I’m there myself during and after the battle.”
Leah raises an eyebrow, but does not press.
The five lead the horses back to the stable; the stable-hands gossip about what might have happened while they lead the horses away, and one very young boy looks admiringly at the blood dripping down Leah’s spear.
“May I have the honour of cleaning it, Miss?” he asks, looking up at her. She notices the others giving their weapons to young workers to clean, and decides to allow the boy to take her spear and shield; the shield, she realises, has a tooth imbedded in the wood. “Oh!” he exclaims, noticing it. “Can I keep it?” Grossed out, Leah says yes. The boy runs off triumphantly, waving his prize.
The five go down to the baths immediately, stripping off armour and clothing, and all soak together in the hot sulphur waters. Each of them sports a variety of scars, though Vivitha and Meredith seem to have the fewest. I suppose because Vivitha’s always back from the fighting, and Meredith is armoured like a fucking tank – except for her face, which I suppose explains that scar.
Leah sits awkwardly, enjoying the soak but not the smell, and especially not the closeness of her nude comrades in arms. I think it’s just a prudish thing, not a gay thing, she tells herself. I’d be uncomfortable no matter the genders. Why can’t we be wearing the boxer-underwear thingies, at least? She then imagines the smell of clothing soaked in sulphur, and decides nudity is an acceptable price.
The others talk lightly about what just happened, trading jokes and insults about certain key moments, either fumbled or aced by the parties involved. Leah listens, intrigued – not just by the content, but by the tone.
“Has this often happened since we came to Valerin? Seffon’s forces getting this close, I mean,” she asks the group, during a lull in the ribbing.
“Sometimes, but not often. This is the third attempt,” Meredith says, stretching her arms up out of the water and sliding down on the lip of the stone seat. “After the second was when we made our first foray into Seffon’s territory, and lost you.”
Leah listens some more; the conversation drifts across topics; techniques observed among the invaders, possible paths of approach, mistakes made by either side, the quality of gear the invaders used. After a few minutes, she speaks again.
“Who do we think these people were?”
“Seffon’s men?” Iris says laughingly, as though this is a joke.
“No, I mean…why were they fighting for him? Who is Seffon to command so many men, and how can we five defeat all of them? Why isn’t Valerin assembling an army?”
Iris and Kain shrug this off; Meredith and Vivitha seem unnerved.
Leah sways her arms through the water, causing ripples. “What does Seffon stand for?”
Meredith answers. “Chaos.”
“What sort of answer is that?”
“It’s not our place to question his motives; he threatens Valerin.” Iris says this casually, but Leah just shakes her head.
“Threatens it how? We need to know his motives. When I first met you, you said we fight whoever we’re paid to fight, if the fight is right. Is this fight right, if we don’t know why we’re fighting?”
“What do you mean when you first met me?” Iris turns to her, looking mainly confused but also a little hurt.
“I meant when you rescued me from Seffon; where my memories begin.”
“We rescued you from him, and you have to ask why we are fighting him?” Vivitha asks.
“But who is he?”
Kain splashes Vivitha. “Leave her alone; she still doesn’t remember.” The others fall silent, seemingly ashamed yet still insulted at Leah’s impertinence.
Leah simmers down, and tries another tactic. “Can’t you help me to remember by reminding me?”
The echoes of gently running water rise to fill the lull of conversation for a few long seconds. Meredith sighs. “It hasn’t worked before now. I think…we’ve all decided that your memories are probably gone for good. Seffon stole so much from you. He will hurt others the same way. He is very skilled in enchantments.”
Leah frowns. “What does that even mean?”
“It means that those who serve him are under his spell. There are ghost stories from the south, where I grew up,” Vivitha says. “People being enchanted into doing horrible things, and waking up with no memory of it. I’m not saying that’s what happened to you!” She rushes to add this, at Leah’s startled expression, “Just that, likely, he intended the same fate for you.”
Leah falls silent, and the others drop the topic. But it’s not that I woke up with no memories. I have memories! But I also apparently was there for three days, and a lot can happen in that time.