It was well into the next day when Duncan and his party stumbled from the woods. Duncan and his companions huddled against the sudden storm that had kicked up, blowing snow into their faces and chilling them despite their padded coats and sturdy leather boots.
Thick snowdrifts covered the barley of the fields, and the men forged ahead, following the horse-sized plough that Lady happily became.
I love snow! She yelled into Duncan’s mind. Why did we never go out into it before?
“Too cold. Hurry!” Duncan groused. His hands and nose hurt from the cold. He tried to prevent himself from breathing on his fingers, knowing that they would freeze black and fall off if too much moisture got to them.
The increase in vitality from his levels helped some, but he could feel his body failing as the weather worsened. The guards were in worse shape. They had only reached level seven, despite manning the walls throughout the siege.
Duncan looked over at Brian, one of the two guards. He had given up all modesty and thrust his hands down his pants. Looking further back, he saw that Colm and Owen–the other guard–had done the same.
But at least their hands were warm. The tavern-keeper’s eldest son, Vincent, gave Duncan an awkward shrug. “It works!”
Duncan didn’t know Vincent well, he being eighteen years old, but over the last day, the young men had formed a friendship forged in misery. Vincent had fought hard at the keep, losing most of his family when the Curtain wall fell, just as Duncan had lost his father.
The Tavern Keeper’s son had almost reached level ten and was keen to get his class and revenge for his fallen kin. That Vincent had out levelled the archers was not lost on Colm, who trusted the lad more than the guardsmen. They kept mostly to themselves, trudging along, complaining about the cold.
Duncan sighed and thrust his hands down into his leggings, giving a soft whine as his crotch received a sudden chilling effect. He stumbled onwards, trudging through the packed snow created by Lady.
Thank you, girl! He thought to her. It would be much harder on us all if not for you.
He smiled, then winced as his cold-cracked lips bled again. Reaching up, he pressed a finger to his lips to stop the blood freezing. He didn’t mind the pain, not when he was able to watch his companion frolicking through the snow ahead, her tail wagging. Despite her evolution into a Cu-Sith, Lady's nature was still that of the excitable dog he grew up with.
The Cu-Sith seemed to relish the cold weather, snapping her jaws at the thicker banks of snow, sending great gouts flying into the air as her jaws closed.
Ahead, through the snow, Duncan could make out some buildings, and he groaned with relief. Making his way forward, he found the entrance to the hay shed, and gestured for the others to get inside. Finally able to shelter from the storm, they quickly set about making a fire, careful to ensure they pushed the hay surrounding them clear of the flame.
While they were all desperate to warm themselves, burning down their only shelter would not do.
Colm yelled with delight as the embers struck from his flint, were carried to the small pile of dry hay they’d set apart and watched as it caught. Five sets of eyes stared at the thin wisp of smoke in desperate hope. Colm gently reached out for it, and with a soft puff, breathed the embers to life. He singed his fingers slightly on the now lit hay before placing it quickly into the larger pile they’d set apart for their warmth.
The fire quickly caught, kicking small embers free to burn on the dirt floor.
Fortunately, the space they sheltered within was large for a hay shed, and they soon felt safe to enjoy the fire’s warmth.
All five gathered around, groaning in relief as heat rose to thaw their freezing skin. Duncan looked about at the others and couldn’t help but grin at their delight.
They didn’t talk, as talking would allow more warmth to escape. Instead, they sat, carefully vying for enough heat to warm them again.
Duncan spent the time reading.
He found he enjoyed the silence. The constant need to be seen doing something productive and the noise of the town had tired him too much to enjoy the quiet of the night. Now he had time to discover who he was becoming.
Duncan re-read his statistics sheet and attributes, going through each description over-and-again, until he could nearly recite them verbatim. He also looked at the Inspired speech ability.
He wasn’t sure how the system identified he should receive the ability but was sure it was something he could replicate.
As he sat in contemplation, he engaged in a mental conversation with Lady.
Lady spent the time licking the snow from her fur and grooming herself as best she could. In between her complaints about the itchiness of the hay, Duncan asked about her class and attributes.
From what I remember, attributes and classes are the foundation of a greater ascension. One that allows anyone with access to the system to evolve, just like I did.
Duncan frowned. From what you remember? He asked, curious.
I remember some parts of my mother's life, and mother’s mother and so on. It’s how I know to hunt and herd. They’re memories of what I should do. Older memories came to me when I evolved, of how all animals were once beasts of the Fae Court and how we escaped here on a great ship. Of how we knew of levels and experience.
Really? Duncan sent, thinking of the stories of Noah and his Ark. We have stories of a great ship full of animals, too.
Lady licked her lips, blinking slowly in response.
Perhaps it was the same. She sent. You humans forget more than you remember in your stories. My memories were part of how to use the system, but a lot is… missing.
How do you know that? Duncan asked. It seemed a strange word to describe the memories of how to use the system. After all, how did she know there was more to it?
That too is a memory. One of the elder Cu-Sith, a being named Hecate.
Hecate was known for her Magic and spells and could change her form to become human at will.
That information surprised Duncan. Do you think you could do the same? He asked.
Perhaps. She seemed to consider the idea. Though Hecate was a powerful being. Why do you ask?
I was just curious. He sent. It might be useful to have you blend in. You might scare people as you are.
She gave a soft whine, but let the subject lie, and Duncan went back to looking over his Statistics.
Statistics Tablet of Duncan Baker
Titles:
Spirit Link
(Lady: Cu-Sith, Level 15)
Name:
Duncan Baker
Level:
12
Race:
Human
Class: Disciple of the Order of Nodens
Age:
13
Tribulation Experience: 12 / 1455
Health: 140
Magic: 170
Stamina: 100
Available Attributes: 7
Strength: 10
Agility: 16
Vitality: 14
Intelligence: 19
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 16
Luck: 14
Faith: 10
Will: 17
Skills:
Sword: 4
Animal Husbandry: 28
Manners: 8
Tactics: 3
Baking: 21
Light Armor: 3
Maintenance: 8
Stealth: 12
Chivalry: 2
Shields: 2
Housekeeping: 13
Mathematics: 2
Reading: 4
Athletics: 12
Spears: 1
Riding: 2
Archery: 3
Heavy Armor: 2
Abilities:
Inspired Speech: Level 1
Hours passed in near silence. The only sound the shuffling of the men around the fire and the sound of the storm. They listened fearfully as the storm grew in intensity. Despite their increased vitality, each man knew that leaving their shelter would cause death. Lady padded back and forth restlessly, huffing at every thunderclap.
Soon the storm passed, and with relief, the group emerged into a snow-covered field and overcast skies.
Lady let out a powerful sneeze, causing the others to jump.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Owen prayed aloud. “Your fairy dog is going to be the death of me.”
Brian chuckled. “If you keep up like that, she might.” He warned his friend, watching Lady’s red eyes fall on Owen. “I don’t think she likes you calling her a fairy dog.”
“She might not,” Colm said, “but that’s what Cu-Sith means.”
I’m not a fairy dog. Lady said, sniffing at the fresh air and sneezing again. I am Lady, Duncan’s friend. And Cu-Sith means a great deal more than “fairy dog”.
Duncan reached out a hand and scratched across her soft, thick fur. “Don’t worry, girl, you’re my Cu-Sith, and a great one at that.” She nuzzled into his hand, giving a contented growl as his scratching found an itchy spot. Turning to the others, he explained.
Colm was looking around the fields, trying to gain his bearings. Since the sun was nearly directly overhead and cast no shadows through the cloud, they cooked up some of the deer meat from the hind Lady had killed the previous day.
Lacking a skillet, they pierced the meat with long sticks they found under the snow and held them over the fire to cook. Lady ate her share raw, but stared longingly at the cooking meat, running her tongue over her nose to gain a better scent of the venison.
Suddenly, she rose, her hackles rising. Sniffing at the air, she spun to face a small rise nearby. Seeing the sudden movement, all five men dropped their food and drew steel. Colm nocked an arrow but did not draw.
They were silent for a while, searching for movement, but saw none.
What was it, Lady? Duncan asked.
Blood.
Duncan quickly told the others what Lady had scented. They quickly smothered the fire and kicked fresh snow over their half-cooked meal. It was unlikely that anyone had followed them through the storm, but on the off chance any pursuit found the hut, it wouldn’t be wise to leave obvious clues to their passage.
Owen and Brian argued their group should set a course well clear of the incident, but Colm, Vincent and Duncan all demanded they investigate. After all–they reasoned - it was likely that anyone travelling through this storm would have fled from Douglas or some other raid.
If they could not render aid or discover an enemy encampment, they might report the location to Sir Carmichael and conduct a rescue on the way to relieve the Keep.
Reluctantly, Owen and Brian agreed. The small party setting off, with Lady in the lead, stalking through the snowbanks ahead of them.
It was not long before they reached the site of the attack. A now abandoned encampment lay in a hollow beside the road, the tents torn and flapping in the light breeze.
A pile of four bodies lay to one side. Their corpses were slowly freezing as the warmth of life was stripped from them by the chill air. Duncan thought they couldn’t have been slain long ago; the blood was too fresh. He’d seen enough spilled on snow in the last few days to tell the difference.
Blows from swords or axes disfigured many of their features. Another man showed wounds from a spear. Colm explained the difference in the wounds as he looked the bodies over.
Lady whined softly as she padded past them.
Ours, She sent. They are from home. From Douglas.
How do you know?
Smell. She sent back. The tone of it more a command than an answer. Duncan tried to sniff the air, but all he could smell was the scent of his own body and the chill of the air.
I can’t smell anything. He replied.
NO! She sent back. Smell using your magic. Your human smell is too weak, but you are a Disciple to Nodens. You have gifts. Use them.
Duncan tried sniffing again, but still sensed nothing different.
Nothing is happening. Do I need to do anything in particular?
Lady huffed. Yes. Smell!
How?
Think about smelling and breathe in through your snout. She explained, as if talking to a pup.
Duncan thought ‘Smell’ as he inhaled, and suddenly the world came to life in a new way as he became aware of the world of smell. He could detect many scents, from Lady’s musky odour to the slight smell of the site where the encampment had built their privy. Most of all, though, he could smell the fear and blood.
I don’t know what I should smell, but somehow, I can tell they were afraid. He sent.
She snuffled. Can you smell Colm and the others?
Duncan inhaled deeply, scenting the others in his party. They smelled of sweat, dirt, and the odious smell of the snow stink that emanated from their boots and leggings. There was something else too, something which they had in common with the discarded clothes.
Duncan realized he had it, too. It smelled like fresh bread, cut timber, the peculiar ale brewed by the tavern keeper and… Home.
I can smell them! He sent, surprised at how much detail he could discern, some of which were making him feel queasy.
Duncan deactivated his ability with a thought, as the sheer number of scents was becoming overwhelming. As he did, a vision appeared before him, and swallowing down his rising gorge, he read it over.
New Ability:
Companions Boon.
Active.
As a Disciple of Nodens, you have unlocked a unique ability. The Companions Boon allows the Disciple access to the racial talents of their companion animal. At Level 1, only one talent can be active.
Activation cost: 50 Magic (For the duration of activation).
This ability cannot be countered.
I just gained an ability! He sent, excitedly. I can now access one of your racial talents!
Lady snuffed, turning to look at him. You are a Disciple of Nodens! Of course you can.
Duncan shook his head. He supposed this was another one of her ancestral memories.
Can you let me know if you can think of anything else a Disciple of Nodens can do? It might help! He sent.
I can only remember what I remember. Lady replied.
Vincent, who had been inspecting the encampment, looked up at Duncan. “Are you all right?” He asked, concerned. “You look like you’re about to be ill.”
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Fine.” Duncan replied quickly. “I just gained a new ability.”
He displayed it for the others to see. They shook their heads in wonder. Colm had yet to gain any abilities for his Master Carpenter’s skill, though Duncan was sure that whatever he gained would likely only aid his craft.
They party continued searching, hoping to find some sign or tracks they could follow.
“Why are we bothering?” Owen soon complained. “They might have gone days ago.”
Colm shook his head. “No, the blood is still fresh. This happened just after the storm hit, and there are children’s clothes here too, but no bodies. I can’t tell how many they were, but the lack of bodies can only mean that they have been captured.”
“Then we know what’s happened to them.” Brian said, standing from where he checked the pockets of the dead men. “Let’s just go to Carmichael and get drunk. We can report bandits in the area, and then Sir Carmichael can lead a relief force to Douglas. After that, he’ll deal with these bandits.”
Colm glowered at the other large man. “You’re right about one thing. We do know what’s happened to them. And we’re going to save them if we can.”
Brian and Owen scowled at the large Master Carpenter. “Who made you the Lord?” Owen asked, trying to stare the older man down. “We have a duty to tell Sir Carmichael about the siege so he can relieve the keep. We cannot be saving every peasant we come across.”
“Aye, you’re right. We cannot save every peasant, but we can try. We owe them that. These are our neighbours' wives and children, and even if they weren’t, they’re Scots!” Colm said, and Vincent and Duncan voiced their agreement. “As to your duty, we don’t know where we are! If we don’t know where we are, how are you planning on getting to Carmichael?”
Reason prevailed, and the two archers, though grumbling, agreed to the search until they could get their bearings.
Lady soon found the scent, and the group set out after her. It was not long before they reached a frozen pond nestled below a road through the fields. As they approached, Vincent spied an encampment that was partially obscured from the road by a stand of trees and shrubs.
A thin trail of smoke rose into the air, signalling the position. As Duncan and the others drew closer, they could hear the cries of anguish and laughter echoing off the ice of the pond.
Duncan’s group halted behind a small stand of bushes on a rise above the pond, and what they saw caused their already dour mood to darken even more.
A group of bandits were harassing a group of chained prisoners.
Duncan took a moment to inspect their faces. He recognized many of them immediately, though some had been beaten, and at that distance, he couldn’t be sure of two or three.
A group of eight men laughed, joking with each-other at the prisoner’s expense. Few amongst them wore armour heavier than a patched jerkin, though two men had swords scabbarded at their waists.
There were no defences apparent, nor lookouts. A cart was hitched nearby, with a cart-horse picketed near the reeds beside the pond. Colm seemed worried about that.
“We’ll need to be careful not to spook that horse.” He said. “Especially you, Lady.”
Lady nodded her massive head. I will talk to the horse. It will know the difference between a predator and a guard hound. It will not react.
Duncan relayed the information to the rest of the group, and despite some questioning glances, the others seemed to accept what Lady had said as they surveyed the camp.
There were several small lean-to’s scattered around a large central fire-pit. The prisoners had been pushed up against a steep embankment, where they shivered and cowered from their tormentors.
The mockery and abuse hurled at the huddled mass of shackled townsfolk only heightened the bandits’ spirits, and their laughter had grown louder. Crowding together, the ten adults and four children cried out in fear for mercy. There were only two men being held prisoner, and both looked to be unconscious. One had a bloody wound in his leg, while the other was curled up, facing away from Duncan’s group.
The women tried to protect them and the children from the rocks and sticks hurled by bored captors. The only protection they could offer was to allow the blows to hit them.
Duncan tensed, seeing one of the village girls he’d once had a crush on fall to the ground, a man hitting her with a stick for the sadistic enjoyment of the other bandits. He felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and turned his head, looking up into Colm’s eyes.
“Calmly, lad.” He said. “Rushing in will get them killed, and likely us, too.”
Owen and Brian frowned at that. “You mean to fight?” Brian whispered, surprised.
“Aye, we’re three archers, and have the advantage of surprise, and the higher ground. None of the bandits have much in the way of weapons or armour. We can take two shots each before they realize what’s happening. I don’t see the others sticking around much longer after that. Especially not if the others charge them from another location.”
“But what if we were followed? Wouldn’t this just give away our position?”
“It might.” Colm said, “But by the time they discover these men, we’ll be in Carmichael. Besides, these are our people. We cannot leave them.”
“You might not,” Owen said. “But I can. The Lord left us to guard the Castle, our duty is done. We lost. We’ve spent enough time on this, Colm. It’s time we head to Carmichael.”
Brian nodded, agreeing with his comrade-in-arms. “Yeah. We did our part. Now we need to go to Sir Carmichael. These folks will be safe enough.”
Their craven attitude shocked Duncan. “You’d really just leave them?” He asked.
“Why not?” Brian said, supporting his fellow archer. “They’ll only be a burden. And none look like they could fight. Going in there will only end up getting us killed, or worse.”
“But what of your duty? Aren’t you sworn to Lord Douglas?”
“We are. But we’re also not stupid. Why would we risk our lives for them? Duty? Our Duty is to reclaim the keep, not save whoever we stumble across.” Owen chuckled quietly. “Don’t be daft.”
Vincent scowled at them. “And to think you men claim to be soldiers. My brother died defending the Keep, and all you can think of doing is running off instead of protecting the Lord’s smallfolk. What do you idiots think the Keep was there to protect? Shame on ye both.”
Owen turned on him, about to yell back a retort, but Colm’s hand shot out and gripped the startled archer by the throat. The Master Carpenter’s strong, wide hand squeezed just enough to stop any sound from escaping the smaller man.
“If you’re done?” He asked. “You might not think of me as your commander, but I was once a Centenar in the Royal Guard of France. If you don’t do as I say, I shall flay your face and feed it to Lady.”
That surprised Duncan, a Centenar was an archer in charge of one hundred other men. It would have been a position of great trust and honour, especially in a bodyguard unit.
Lady, who was listening with her hackles raised, suddenly lunged forward to snap her jaws closed a mere inch from horrified face.
There was a strangled gurgle as Owen tried to scream, and he broke Colm’s grip to stumble back. “Yield. I Yield. Please, Sir.” He gasped. Owen turned, looking to Brian. He was about to curse loudly when Duncan’s hand landed over his mouth.
“Shhhhh…” He hushed. The group carefully looked back to the camp, hoping they had not been detected.
They had not, but the violence towards the prisoners was escalating, and Duncan knew they needed to act soon.
Owen looked at Brian, whose face was as pale as his friends. The two moved away from the group, whispering conspiratorially. Colm and Vincent let them be. They’d agreed to help, but the measure of that help was yet to be determined.
The two Douglas archers clearly didn’t think the others could overhear their comments, but Lady provided Duncan with a running commentary. Her large, pointed ears perking up as she pretended to be focussing on the enemy camp.
That small one that smells like berries is just said that he wants to kill Colm. Should I eat him?
No! Duncan sent back.
The big one with the beard refused. He said he doubts either of them could kill Colm. Smart.
No.
He’s an idiot too. He wants to run. Doesn’t he know that we’ll win, anyway?
We will? Duncan asked, surprised.
Of course. You have me. I am at a much higher level than they are.
Duncan hadn’t considered that, and quickly inspected the levels of the bandits near the pond.
?
Human.
Level 4.
?
Human.
Level 3
?
Human.
Level 6
He checked through them all, but none had a higher level than 6.
Do levels really mean that much? He asked. I mean, if I am at level ten, can I defeat opponents more highly levelled?
Lady nodded her head, but flattened her ears, as though in warning. Levels are the most important. While you can still get lucky and slay an opponent of a higher level, the larger the gap in your ability, the more likely it is you’ll fail.
If an opponent is over four levels higher than you. Run. She finished, looking at him with unblinking eyes.
Is that why you say we’ll win this fight? He asked.
Of course, we WILL win. You have me. And I’m worth any eight humans. I’m Cu-Sith. I am evolved.
Duncan snorted. Don’t get a big head. He thought to her.
I DO have an enormous head. She retorted. I also have a huge brain.
Duncan’s chuckled reply was cut short when Colm ordered the others to get ready.
Cautiously, Duncan, Lady, and Vincent snuck as close as they dared to the camp. They moved from cover to cover until they reached the stand of reeds where the cart-horse foraged beneath the snow-covered ground.
Duncan hoped that their charge would scare the bandits into fleeing, as the only weapon Duncan had to hand was the short length of spear he’d taken from Lady’s wound the day before.
Fortunately, her regeneration skill seemed to have activated at some point, though she still licked at the spot of bare fur occasionally.
Duncan knew that the signal to begin would be Colm’s first shot. They would charge, as agreed, after the second.
He, Vincent and Lady watched from behind the bank of reeds about thirty yards from the encampment, and Duncan could see the men more clearly now.
They were hard men, their skin all scarred and browned from the weather. None looked much younger than Colm, and Duncan hoped that their experience would not match the levels he’d gained.
An arrow flew from Colm’s hiding spot. At fifty yards, the shot was a long one, but Colm made it count.
The broadhead punched through the face of the highest levelled man, dropping him lifelessly to the ground.
Another arrow flew true and struck another man high on the shoulder, while the third arrow missed as a man spun to see what had happened.
Duncan, Lady and Vincent all held their ground, waiting for the second wave of arrows.
They came within seconds, and only one hit a target. The arrow struck home, sinking into the man who’d been struck in the shoulder as he stared at his wound in shock. This time it took him in the throat, and he dropped to the ground as his spine was severed.
That left six men. Lady let loose a howl that shook the very ground around them, freezing the bandits in their tracks.
Duncan, Vincent and Lady broke from cover as the echoes of the howl receded, charging forward. It surprised Duncan at how easily he moved across the ground. He’d been athletic as a lad, but this was something different.
His steps felt light, and his legs ate the distance between him and his foes.
He was upon the nearest enemy within two seconds. The man’s eyes widened slightly as he approached, and he seemed to struggle against the effect of Lady’s ability. Duncan gave him no chance to fight back, ramming his make-shift spear into the neck of the man just as he moved, pulling his axe from his belt.
Vincent, who’d picked up a large branch to use as a club, broke it in half over another man’s head, crushing his skull instantly.
Lady, however, was a blur of motion. By the time Duncan reached his target, she’d downed two opponents. One with a vicious puncture from her tail and the second she savaged with her teeth and claws.
The other two men remained frozen, though whether from Lady’s roar or from sheer terror, Duncan couldn’t tell. Lady had leapt upon the next and tore his throat out with a swift jerk, before the last man twitched.
He quickly drew his sword and dropped it on the ground.
“Mercy!” He cried, staring fearfully at Lady’s gore-filled maw.
Lady stalked closer to him, and for a moment Duncan was worried that she might kill the man. Instead, she took one sniff of him, and he fell to the ground, soiling himself in a faint.
Duncan and Vincent, shocked at how quickly the combat had ended, proceeded to unshackling the prisoners while Lady washed herself as best she could in the pond.
The women and children were unmoving as their shackles were unlocked, Vincent finding the keys on the body of the highest levelled man. As Colm approached, the now free prisoners recognized him and poured praise and thanks upon him and the others.
None went anywhere near Lady, instead keeping a wary eye on her as she once emerged from the pool and shook her body, drenching those nearby with a spray of pond-water.
Some of the water landed on the only surviving bandit and he awoke, pale faced and sweating.
“Please, don’t kill me. I swear I didn’t mean for all this. I was just following what Bill said to do. If we didn’t, he’d beat us.”
Colm ignored the man, instead turning to the prisoners. “Is what he says true?”
An older woman glowered. “Maybe, but the bugger enjoyed grabbing at the girls, and he didn’t hold back when he beat us.”
Another, this one a young girl, nodded. “He liked it when we screamed.”
Colm nodded, and with Brian and Owen, he grabbed the man, dragging him out of sight.
A pleading cry was all they heard, but the men soon returned. Owen wiping his knife on a handful of reeds. He glanced apologetically at Colm, seeming to want to say something, but the older man ignored his look, going instead to the women and providing what comfort he could.
Lady, curious about the wounded, padded over to them. Duncan followed, inspecting the men, and seeing both had deep wounds to limbs and torso. They were both coming down with a fever, too, likely fighting whatever demons had entered their flesh through their wounds.
With a cry, one woman tried to stop Lady as the Cu-Sith licked at the wounds.
“What are you doing? Get away from them, demon!”
Duncan rose from his crouch. “Hey, don’t talk to her like that! That’s my dog, Lady, not some demon.”
The woman, who Duncan knew was one of the wealthier merchant’s wives, glowered at him. “You mean that Border Collie you always had following you about? Are you Blind? That’s no dog, lad. That’s a devil hound. No decent dog would have a bone spike for a tail and look at its size! That’s a devil if I ever seen one.” She crossed herself and began rubbing a rosary that hung from her neck.
Colm quickly intervened to calm the situation, as many of the others were now clustering around the wounded men. “She’s not a Border Collie anymore. She gained many levels while defending the Keep and has become a Cu-Sith. The system calls her a heavenly creature, so be at ease!”
As the women fell to discussing what that meant, another girl, brighter than the rest, joined a few of the dots.
“We can go home! The siege is over?” She asked, hope filling her voice.
Vincent shook his head, seeming to pull himself up as he answered. “No, Catherine.” She smiled broadly as he said her name.
“The siege is still under-way. They nearly killed us when the curtain wall fell to Comyn’s men. It was thanks to Lady that we escaped!”
She stared at the older boy in admiration for a moment, before one of the older women nudged her, causing the girl to find something interesting on the ground at her feet.
The news that the siege continued caused a brief discussion amongst the women and girls, many of them looking at Lady with furrowed brows.
Why do they think I am some kind of demon? She asked, clearly confused.
Duncan thought about it for a while. Lady had only interacted with people in the Keep, and those had known she was Duncan’s pet–even if after she had evolved into something else. But these people had seen nothing like her except in nightmares or dreams.
They’ve encountered nothing like you before, Lady. Duncan explained. If you want them to like you, show them you mean them no harm. All they’ve seen of you so far is how you helped kill their captors.
Tell them I only wanted to help! She whined. If I don’t heal those men, they’ll die. They already smell of rot.
I will. Duncan sent, turning back to the women.
“Don’t worry about Lady, she only wants to help. She told me that if she doesn’t heal those men soon, they’ll die of fever.”
The women with the rosary turned on him, scowling. “Oh, you can talk to her, can you? Can you also fly? Or dance on the head of a pin?”
Lady huffed loudly and pushed past her protesting form, and she licked at the men’s wounds.
“Look!” The woman shrieked. “The demon is eating him!”
Duncan shook his head, about to protest, but Colm stepped forward, gripping the woman’s arm as she tried to hurl herself at Lady. “Quiet, you foolish woman. Another word from you and I’ll put you in the pond. The hound just helped rescue you from those bandits. If she wanted you dead, why didn’t she just eat you while you were chained?”
The woman, red faced with shame and anger at being so addressed, glared back at Colm. “Do you know who…”
Colm lifted her bodily off the ground and carried her over to the freezing pond, his booted feet cracking the ice before, with a heave, he dumped her into the shallows.
She fell in with a scream, cursing Colm with every vicious word she could muster.
“I warned you, woman.” Colm said, turning back to the group.
The other women's expressions ranged from satisfied, to smug, but as the woman emerged from the frozen pool, shivering and sobbing with the cold, they quickly bundled her in blankets and put her next to the fire in order to warm her. One of the girls ladled the stew the men had been cooking into a bowl. Taking it gratefully, Duncan saw the woman sipping the stew as she cradled the bowl in shaking hands.
It was hard to not feel sorry for her, but Colm had warned her. Despite that, Duncan felt bad about the way the Master Carpenter had dealt with the woman.
That feeling lasted as long as it took the woman to warm enough to resume her imperious attitude, and she once more began her vile speculations about Lady and the other men who saved her. Duncan did notice, however how she quietened every time Colm passed by the fire.
Lady continued to lick at the feverish men's wounds while Colm gathered everyone together and began organising them to break the camp.
Duncan found it hard to pay attention to what Colm was saying, though. He was distracted by the amazing effect of Lady's healing.
Watching in amazement Duncan saw the the wounds of the men seemed to be closing before his eyes. Lady kept licking the wounds, and he suddenly realized that this was her Regeneration ability.
Lady turned to face Duncan.
It should be done now. She said. I even gained a level in Regeneration! She gave a hearty yowl that startled everyone in the area.
“Everyone, come and see what Lady has done!” Duncan said, proud of his companion.
Colm and the others looked the wounded men over, surprised to see their wounds far less inflamed and seeming to close of their own accord. “Lady only wants to help!” Duncan insisted.
One man gave a racking cough and opened his eyes. He looked about for a moment and gave a cry as he saw Lady staring down at him.
Jumping to his feet, he took a few steps before he noticed everyone else was watching him.
“What…?” he began, only to be tackled by the young woman Vincent knew as Catherine.
“Papa!” She cried, and the older woman who had rebuked her earlier for staring at Vincent also rushed forward, embracing both her daughter and husband.
Lady gave a soft whine, causing many to turn and look at her. A large tear rolled from her eye and hit the ground with a soft sound.
Extracting herself from her parents, the girl leapt upon Lady, hugging her tightly around the neck. “Thank you!” She exclaimed, causing a few of the others to cuff at their eyes too.
Lady merely stood still, angling her muzzle towards the ground and closing her eyes. You’re welcome.
Duncan smiled. She knows. He replied. They all do now.
The young woman reached out a tentative hand and petted Lady’s head. She gasped suddenly.
“Her fur is so soft!” She cried. “Mama, come and feel!”
The girl's mother turned from where she embraced her husband, and together they approached Lady.
“May we?” The man asked, gently reaching out a hand and petting her snout.
Lady gave a sneeze and startled the pair but sat back on her haunches and nuzzled at the woman.
Have them rub behind my ears! Lady ordered.
Don’t be bossy. Duncan chastised, but passed along the request.
Soon, many of the freed townsfolk were eager to spend time with Lady, who, having seen the soaked woman was still crying from time to time, padded over and placed her huge head on her lap, curling her huge body around the woman and helping her to warm up. The obstinate woman refused to acknowledge Lady at first, but soon accepted that the Cu-Sith only wanted to help.
The others soon found any reason they could to sit by the fire, taking turns petting her and enjoying the distraction from their troubles. Lady revelled in their attention, rolling over with her legs akimbo to take full advantage of the scratching and petting.
Mmmm…. Belly rubs… I AM a good girl!
Duncan shook his head.
Glutton. He sent.
She opened one eye to glare at him, but the belly rubs continued, and she soon went back to enjoying the attention.
Brian and Owen had spent the time going through the loot. A good part of it clearly belonged to the townsfolk, and they returned what they could.
Some goods, however, belonged to the men who had been slain by the bandits. These were put to the side to be claimed by the family members. They then divided the rest of the belongings equally.
The bandits’ weapons were also distributed. Duncan taking a long boar-spear from amongst the Bandits belongings. It was a simple object, but he felt better for having it. He also took a dirk, as he’d lost his in the fighting in Douglas.
He inspected them both as he waited for Colm and the archers to organise the townsfolk.
Boar Spear (Basic)
Level 1
A standard boar spear.
The leaf blade is designed to cut a wide wound, while the tines prevent the blade from penetrating too deeply.
This weapon is prone to breaking.
He sighed. At least it was serviceable, and it felt good to hold in his hands.
The dirk also held no special properties.
Dirk (Basic)
Level 1
A standard dirk.
The narrow blade is designed to pierce mail, but has an edge sharp enough to cut through clothing.
A weapon of last resort, and a useful tool for day-to-day work.
This weapon is prone to dulling.
He knew he’d need to be careful with these, as his increased strength was likely to damage the weapons if he put them to heavy use. Still, he felt much better now that he had some proper means of defence.
Vincent had taken up one of the swords from the fallen men, while the two rescued and healed townsmen received the other sword and an axe.
As Duncan and the others finished loading the wagon, the women and children clambered aboard. Colm hitched the carthorse to the wagon’s traces and Catherine’s mother took the reins.
Ready to leave, the group set out towards Carmichael. Lady once more in the van. Catherine’s father knew the area well, having travelled the road often for his trade, and he called out to the Cu-Sith now and then, guiding their small party along the snow-covered road to the South-East.
The group of weary travellers passed through several burnt-out hamlets on their way, and Duncan couldn’t help but hope that when they reached Carmichael, they’d find the Knight and his retinue alive.
As they rounded a final hill that obscured the village, they saw what they feared most.
Carmichael had been attacked.