Escape
 © Tiffany Dunn

"This cannot be!" Roltan slammed a meaty fist down on the table. "You assured me that they were taken care of. What happened, Kardoff?" The victim of Roltan's rage cringed under the leader's glare, only able to spread his hands out helplessly in response. "I really, I really don't know, Roltan. We thought we had killed the leaders. But we were misled. We will find those who lied to us and make them pay. But we have to prepare for an assault. Now that we know, they'll attack any day. Please, Roltan, cancel the-"

"What did you call me?" the huge man seethed, interrupting. "Did you call me Roltan? Have I not told you, all of you," he ripped his eyes from Kardoff to take in the seven other men around the table, before returning to his original target, "to refer to me as 'Lord Roltan'? Or 'My Lord'? Have I not TOLD YOU?" He rose to a standing position and shook his fist at the table in general. "You are idiots! All of you! Get out of my sight you blasted fools!" The men nodded and nearly leapt from their chairs, as though Roltan had transformed into Urtoth himself in his fury. I do not doubt there's Dragon blood in him, Tethyn thought, calmly watching the scene from his position behind Roltan. Knowing he wasn't included in Roltan's orders, he simply waited for the last man to exit, shutting the door behind him quietly, before he took a step forward to stand next to his leader.

Fists planted on the table to support himself, the huge man slowed his violent breathing enough to whisper to Tethyn, "See that Kardoff is punished."

"Yes, my Lord." It was the appropriate response, if not the one he felt comfortable giving. But he knew what Roltan could do, and he would not push the man. 'Coward,' his mind whispered to him, that slippery part of his conscience that he could never rationalize his actions to.

"We are surrounded by idiots, Tethyn. 'An attack will come soon.' Bloody fang, I knew that months ago. I'd have them all killed if I didn't need their rotten carcasses in the battle." Tethyn believed that, knew that Roltan would do it if pushed. 'I can't push a man like Roltan,' he explained to himself. 'Coward.'

"My Lord?" He waited for Roltan's dark eyes to focus on him before he continued. He had ugly eyes, nearly black irises surrounded by milky-white and red streaks, caused from days of continuous drinking. Tethyn had to force himself to keep the other man's gaze. "What will we do about the assault? They outnumber us four to one. And the men in this keep who can fight that well I can count on one hand."

Snarling, Roltan fell back into his seat, glaring at him. "Burn you. I wish you weren't always right." His gravelly voice rumbled like a building storm. "But that's why I have you here, isn't it?" Flinching inwardly, Tethyn nodded at the subtle blow. He knew why Roltan kept him around and always at his side. A year had passed since the Betrayal, as the men whispered it to each other. He had named it the same, but for different reasons. It was the day he learned the lengths Roltan's rage would go, a day he would regret forever. A day a child was punished in a way that would make grown men fall, sobbing. And it was his fault. His and the man he stared at now, his inner hatred of the leader reflected in the other man's eyes. There had been a time, once, when he had believed in Roltan. Believed that the man he had grown up with and dreamed with and planned with was brutal, but only to a point. He believed that no longer. Every day he stayed his hand from the sword that hung at his side. He pictured himself now drawing it and slicing at the arrogant sneer on Roltan's face. 'But you are a coward,' his mind supplied. 'Too cowardly to fight and even more afraid to flee.' He'd had this conversation with himself a hundred times since the Betrayal. He tried to convince himself that Tatianna was the reason he stayed, that to take her away from here would only plunge her into more danger, unknown danger, but he never managed to fully believe it.

"You could try to kill me. I would welcome the chance to slay you where you stand." Roltan's sneer grew wider, showing a row of dirty teeth, then suddenly dropped down into an angry frown. "But I need your cursed self alive. You're the only one here I can rely on to have half a thought. That, and I know how much it tortures you to be here." Roltan grinned again, apparently mollified at the thought of Tethyn's suffering and waved a hand at him in dismissal. "Leave me now. We'll discuss this later. They won't attack for a few days, at least."

Simply nodding, Tethyn bit down on the retorts forming on his tongue, and inclined his head, then resolutely turned his back on Roltan and walked out of the room.

The axe swung down, splitting the wood in two in a single, deafening crack. Kicking the pieces off of the stump, Tethyn bent over and placed another hunk of wood vertically on the uneven surface. Swinging the axe around in a well-practiced movement, he split the piece and then repeated the procedure. There was a calm serenity in the repetition: Kick, place, swing, split. He could forget himself in the act, driving his anger into the helpless piece of wood before him. He had been out here for nearly an hour now, and had long since taken off his sweat-soaked shirt to let the gentle wind cool his skin. The long ugly reminder of his lash mark glistened where the sweat pooled along its length, making it itch. He reached back and scratched at it, feeling the rough edges with equally rough fingers.

The bile formed up inside him again, and he slammed another block of wood onto the stump and began to lift his axe in preparation. "Damn.." he swung it up, then finished with a heavy exhalation. "Roltan." Working the axe head back and forth he un-stuck it from the stump's uneven surface and settled another block atop it. Hefting the axe again, loud shouts and cries interrupted Tethyn, originating towards the entrance to the keep behind him. Listening to them for a few seconds, they finally sharpened to the distinct clang of swords and pleas for help from Roltan's men. "Urtoth's blood!" he cursed quietly, dropping the axe on the ground. Quickly, he bent and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on, then strapping his sword-belt on haphazardly after.

Catching the glint of metal approaching, Tethyn scanned around, and ducked behind the small woodpile for immediate cover while he planned. He knew he was the second best swordsman on the premises, but he also was all too aware of his lack of armor. And though he knew the men of the rebellion were unskilled in combat, they had protection and he didn't. Even a lucky blow could kill him in this situation. Slowing his breathing, he watched as a solitary figure came into view, scanning around carefully. The man became even more cautious when he saw the dropped axe, and his eyes, barely visible beneath the shoddy helmet he wore, started searching the area more intently. Sizing the man up, Tethyn gripped the worn hilt of his sword in preparation, waiting for the man to turn..another...half...step...he leapt out from behind his hiding place, his sword hissing it's way out of the sheath as he moved forward. The man turned with a startled cry, his sword swinging up to protect his face. Tethyn changed direction mid-swing in response, losing some power but still solidly piercing the other man's gut through a hole in the side. Surprised by the blow the armored man dropped his sword and stared at the blade sticking into his side, until Tethyn pulled it out, and killed him with a fierce hit to the head.

The man slumped to the ground, and Tethyn kneeled next to him, searching through his clothing. A small disc made out of ironwood, and stamped with Brey's insignia caught his eye. It was a coin from the rebellion's leader, and probably the dead man's recent pay. "Bloody cursed dragon's fang!" The attack was earlier than even he had assumed they would dare. And by the ever-nearing sounds of battle Roltan's men were completely unprepared. There was no way they would win the fight. Tethyn knew it in an instant, and began forming new plans just as quickly. Tatianna ... he had to get her out of here. Leaping to his feet, he cast another look back towards where the entrance was but still could not see anything. The keep loomed huge and foreboding to his left, the small shed he was now near a miniature of the other structure. But Tatianna was in the bigger one, not the shed, and he had to get her out of here. She would not be safe when Brey entered the keep, and in worse shape if he let her live. He began to jog steadily towards it, circling around to come in the back way and keep out of sight of the rebels.

As he jogged, he planned. Once Tatianna was free, then he could seek out Roltan. He could take that Urtoth-born demon with him when he died, at least. He could almost feel their swords clashing together in battle. It would feel good to simply take the swing at him.

"There's another one!"

Halting dead in his tracks, Tethyn looked to his right from where the shout came and cursed again upon sighting the three men rushing towards him, weapons drawn. His sword still unsheathed, he turned to face the three men, his lips tightened into a grim smile. Two of the men had swords similar to his own and armor like the first one, while the other one, who Tethyn noted with considerable surprise as being female as she got closer, was swinging a mace and a bit better protected. His thoughts stilled, focusing on the three opponents and excluding all else. A hundred plans rose up and then were tossed away, until finally they were upon him. He waited until the last possible second and danced to the side out of the way of the mace's reach, batting away the two blades. The middle swordsman fell back and started to move towards Tethyn, while the one closest to him slowly brought himself and his sword to bear. There was a doubtful cast to his features, and by the grip on his sword Tethyn knew he had never fought before.

He shook his head, and moved again, placing the more experienced swordsman behind the first. A flash of movement alerted him to the woman's downswing, and he brought his sword up barely in time, the jolt running down his arm. Seeing the opening, the rookie jabbed in, catching Tethyn's side and making a moderate gash. Gasping, Tethyn cursed his lack of focus, knowing that had any other man seen that opening he would have been dead and not merely injured. His arm shot out, and he punched the other swordsman in the nose, causing his head to snap back. Then he brought his sword around and defended a blow from the second swordsman, while kicking out and catching the woman in the knee. Not a hard kick, but it caused her to stumble backward, giving Tethyn precious room.

He stepped farther back and turned his attention to the more experienced fighter, wanting to take care of him first. He was the biggest threat, and would take advantage of any openings the other two could make. Moving around so the other two fighter were behind the swordsman, Tethyn suddenly leapt forward, sword flashing. The man grunted and blocked the flurry of attacks, grabbing the hilt with both hands. Tethyn sacrificed strength for speed, knowing his hope lay in injuring them all quickly. He pressed on, and his opponent stepped back again, into the more inexperienced man. They both cursed, and Tethyn struck, scoring a hit on the man's chest. He grunted again and brought his sword up when the mace came flying between them, aimed for Tethyn. Leaping back, he stumbled and fell to one knee, as the woman came fully around and in front of the swordsmen. "Fools," he heard her mutter.

He scrambled to his feet, but she was swinging her mace again, and he deflected it into his leg with a thud. Tethyn grimaced, suddenly wobbling on the injured limb. Her eyes narrowed and she brought the mace back again to swing, so he pushed himself forward, tackling her to the ground. She gave a short scream that was cut off by the impact. Tethyn saw the two men staring blankly at the unexpected maneuver, and he pulled himself free and brought his sword down quickly into the woman's chest. She screamed again, but it died off as blood bubbled into her mouth. Yanking the weapon free, Tethyn stepped back from her body, sick with himself for having killed her as she lay there helpless.

There was little time to regret, though, as her two companions darted forward, faces set into angry grimaces. He defended against their two blades, the taller man, the more experience one, making several scratches along Tethyn's arm. His side was flaming, and he could feel the blood seeping down his skin. This fight had to end soon.

Tethyn kicked out at the taller man, who moved back in time to avoid being hit. With the extra space, Tethyn whirled to the right, bringing his sword around in a downward arc, and slicing the shorter man deeply in the arm. He cried out and dropped his sword, and Tethyn quickly thrust his own through his chest. The man let out a choked cry, grabbing onto the blade with both hands and wrenching it from Tethyn's gasp as he fell.

Moving quickly, he bent to grab the other man's shoddy sword, ducking the blow aimed for his head as he did so. Crouched, he grabbed the tall man's knees and pulled him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground. The man yelped and struck downwards with his sword, the point slicing Tethyn on the cheek in a shallow cut. With a groan, Tethyn let him go, the short man's sword in his hand, and stood. The tall man clambered to his feet at the same time, and they stood facing each other for a few moments, each breathing heavily and bleeding. Then the tall man was on him again, sword flying in and out and around looking for a weakpoint in his defenses. Tethyn kept the sword just away from him, although he felt the breath of wind as it passed near his face a few times. He was tired, and he knew he would not be standing much longer. Racking his brain, Tethyn decided to put on a last burst of energy. He martialed his strength and let out a loud yell, almost a roar, pressing forward. His opponent's eyes grew large and he frantically backpedaled, but Tethyn surged forward, spurred on by the bloody cuts that began to appear along the man's face and arms. He pushed onward, the man stepping ever backwards until he tripped over the woman's body. Tethyn yelled again, and drove the swordpoint home into the middle of the man's face, not even giving him time to scream.

He left the sword there, turning away with a slight rumble in his stomach. He had seen worse. Tethyn grabbed his own sword and freed it from the man's chest, wiping it off on his pant legs. He gulped in air, resisting the urge to cry out as his side flamed with the motion. Putting one hand on the wound, he pressed the remainders of his shirt into it and began jogging unsteadily towards the keep again.

"Tatianna?"

The small girl looked up from where she was scrubbing the floor, her features turning instantly worried. "Tethyn! What happened to you? What's going on? I heard noises but they told me to stay here." He slumped into a nearby chair, glad to have made it the rest of the way to the keep without being seen. Now if he could only get her out. Then find Roltan. He managed a smile for her and leaned forward. "Get me a towel," he told her. She nodded and jumped to her feet, rushing away and then back with a stiff cloth in her thin hands.

"'Twas just dried." She didn't say anything else, but he could see the questions in her golden eyes. He took the towel and pressed it against the wound in his side, the white fabric turning red quickly.

"Thank you. Listen to me." Tethyn paused and took in a few deep breaths. He had to hurry before his strength was gone. "Do exactly as I tell you. If you do not, it will mean death for us both." Or worse. "Get as much food together as you can - quickly! - and wrap it in a table linen. Tie it together and then come back here. You are leaving. Now." She opened her mouth but he cut her off, already knowing what she would say. "I will follow in a bit. Do as I say, Tatianna. You must. The Keep is under attack. It will not survive the day, and neither will we if we stay here." She shut her mouth and glared at him. "GO!" he yelled. She turned and ran to do what he had ordered. Tethyn sighed and leaned back in the chair again, shutting his eyes. He heard her footsteps padding lightly on the floor and he cursed his inability to run and get her shoes and better clothing. This would have to do. Roltan loomed in his mind, sneering and cursing, and his body stiffened. It would do.

Several minutes later he felt a soft tap on his shoulder, and a young voice whispered, "It's ready Tethyn. Tethyn, wake up." He opened his eyes, turning his head to see Yana's face beside him.

"Good," he croaked, forcing himself to his feet. His leg throbbed, and he praised Lioshae that it wasn't broken. At his feet was a light blue linen tablecloth, wrapped around its bulging cargo and tied tightly at the top. He looked at Tatianna and groaned. A healthy eight-year old would have trouble with that bag, let alone her. Her skin hung loose around her bones and several bruises dotted her face and arms. Most looked old, but one had the deep, angry blue-black of a new bruise. His hate boiled again and he tore his eyes away from her, catching her flinch as he did so. 'I don't hate you,' he silently pleaded with her. Aloud he said, "If the bag gets too heavy, then get rid of some of it. You'll have to carry it, and speed is what's important right now. Come on." Without another word he led her out the back way, emerging into the cloudy afternoon light. He looked behind him, and saw her bent over, the bag resting on her back as she walked unsteadily outside, blinking hard against the sunlight. "How long has it been since you've been outside?" he asked softly.

"A couple of days," she said, dropping the bag to the ground. Her eyes were squinted almost shut.

"Dump some of the food."

She stared at him before quickly doing as he said. "Where're we going?" she asked as she began pulling some of the items out. A loaf of bread landed at his feet, and he kicked it away.

"I don't know." He saw her stiffen, and then continue on as if nothing had happened. Once she had finished he had her tie the bag up again and lift it. "Better?"

"Yes, much. Will you be all right?"

"Yes." He licked his lips anxiously, the pain throbbing in his mind. He stood silently staring at her for several long seconds, putting off what he had to do next. "Tatianna, you have to leave ahead of me. I have things I must do first," he hurried on before she could protest, "Things that would only put you in more danger. Get out of here. Head east," he pointed to the direction directly opposite the fighting, "and just keep walking. Do not wait for me. I will find you. If you wait, we will both die because of it. Do you understand?"

Yana glared at him and dropped the bag. "I won't go without you, Tethyn. I won't!" She stomped a tiny foot, barely making a dent in the grass. He almost laughed with desperation. She was so weak.

"You must. If you do not, I won't protect you here. Go now, or stay and die." He cringed inside, but kept his features stern. Her whole face dropped, her golden eyes shiny with tears. 'Don't cry,' he begged silently.

"I won't leave without you," she repeated stubbornly. "I'll die if I go out there by myself!"

"No you won't. Keep to the trees. You have enough food to make it to the next town. Someone will find you and help you out." He fervently hoped that was true. He wasn't sure it was.

"No they won't. They'll just want to hurt me." Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down on it. "I'm staying." She crossed her arms defiantly.

Tethyn kneeled down, grabbing her upper arms and shaking her. "You have to go. You have to. You can't stay here, Yana." He lowered his voice, taking the edge off of it. "Please. I swear I will follow. I'm just going to watch your back and make sure no one is following." He kept his eyes locked to hers, hoping she wouldn't see the lie that he was telling.

"You swear it? Swear it to me, Tethyn!" she begged, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I swear it," he whispered roughly. "I swear it on my soul, Yana."

"You liar!" she yelled. She wrenched her arms free and slapped him across the face, but he hardly felt it. He knew she would never believe him. "Why are you leaving me?" she sobbed, collapsing into his arms. He held her, hardly feeling her weight, as she cried. Her shoulders shuddered and heaved and after a minute, she quieted. He looked over his shoulder, but could only hear the sounds of fighting, not see it. He pushed her away gently. There was no time.

"I love you," she whimpered. "Please don't make me go alone."

Tethyn gasped aloud, his heart wrenching in his chest. No choice. "No. Better to be alone, than hurt by another. Remember that." He said it fiercely, his fingers clenching tightly around her arms again. She winced with pain and he dropped his hands to his side and stood in a rush, the blood running from his head. He swayed but remained standing.

"Go, Yana. Go alone. Go and live." She hesitated and he took a threatening step towards her. "GO!" he roared.

The small girl grabbed the bag and took off at a run, her cries fading with distance. Tethyn grimaced, a hundred pains pulling at him, the worst caused by a pair of golden eyes. "Live," he said hoarsely. "Lioshae, let her live." Her small form disappeared into the forest line. Tethyn unsheathed his sword, the dull blade spotted with blood, and headed back into the Keep to find Roltan.