My Love

by Sabrina Zbasnik

  Had they been trying to protect the camp the whole time?

  "Myra..." Gavin said, pointing at the same attack, but she rolled her eyes and stepped forward.

  "Yeah, yeah," the girl lifted her hands and screwed her eyes tight. He spent his life with a mage, rarely even noticing when his mom would bring magic into the world, but standing beside Myra it was as if the fade itself flooded into reality. His stomach pitched to the side, Gavin having to grab onto a tree to keep from falling over.

  Myra popped open an eye to check on him, but he waved it away. He was fine as long as she took them out. Nodding her head, she opened her hands and fire rained from the sky. The first ball landed behind the darkspawn who were so ravenous they missed it, but the next struck hard into their line. Shrieking, they broke apart, their heads and armor aflame as each one dashed through the open field. Fire trailed them like wings of a red death, which was now being scattered near the humans fighting to survive.

  "Uh..." Gavin tried to shake Myra to get her to lance ice next but she was gasping in a breath. He felt eyes hunting through the thicket to see whoever launched the spell, but Gavin was focused on the girl doubling over in pain. "Myra?" She coughed out a breath, her hand shoving into the dirt as she kept crumpling deeper.

  Hot flames danced near Gavin and he whipped his head up to watch a flaming darkspawn fleeing right towards them. Slotting the sword into place, he stepped ahead of Myra to protect her. The creature jabbered, nearing the end of its putrid life, but it intended to take them down with. Smoke burned the air, the skin of the creatures turning to a caustic charcoal that exploded into the sky. He shied away, but tried to keep a bleary eyed focus on it. Lifting the shield up, Gavin sucked in a breath and held it.

  Second time in a day when he was staring death in the face. Except he didn't have any great secret move to protect him this time. The burning hurlock bashed a fist into the shield, the fire so hot it burned the leather keeping it strapped to Gavin. He screamed to fight through the pain but held on. It was his only hope.

  Twisting his arm, he tried to jam the edge of his sword into the creature's burning skull, but the smoke wadded up in his nose and he gasped out to take a foolish breath. Everything burned, his arm searing from the pain. No. He couldn't buckle. He couldn't break. He had to...

  A hand grabbed onto his ankle and, like stepping into a freezing cold bath, ice began to lance up his body. When it reached his arm, the pain from the fire stopped reaching him. It cooled the very air reaching into his lungs, seeming to purify the acrid smoke. But it wasn't done yet, the ice lashing off of his hand to coat his shield and then shoot out and stick like a massive spiderweb onto the darkspawn.

  Some of the flames dampened down, not enough to put it out, but it gave him an opening. Swinging wide, Gavin slashed his sword right into the hurlock's charred neck. The head snapped back, burnt flesh splattering as the muscle and sinew ripped, and the entire burning creature tumbled to the ground. Without the fire in his face, Gavin's entire body turned ice cold. He began to tremble to keep himself alive, but there was nothing to stop the power of...

  Myra removed her hand and the ice stopped in an instant. Two beats of his heart shook away the threat of death, Gavin screwing his eyes up tight to hide the fear she put into him. As he bent down to scoop up Myra, her eyes opened wide and she shouted, "Rosie!"

  Without a mage, the princess was having a harder time taking down the flaming darkspawn. A pair of them were advancing quickly, Rosie reaching the end of a pile of bloody arrows they must have yanked from a corpse to reuse. Gavin hefted up his sword and moved to slot on the shield. The burn along his arm cried out in pain, but he'd have to worry about that later. Taking a step forward, he shouted to get the creature's attentions, when a barrage of arrows launched from the sky.

  Instinctively, he moved to cover up, but the attack wasn't coming for them. The arrows struck into every shoulder, head, and limb available on the remaining darkspawn. As they all crumbled to the ground and the final flames of the mage attack petered out with no one to feed them, the survivors glanced around.

  A massive line of mounted soldiers came riding towards them from the south, and at the head was a man with striking red hair. Gavin stepped closer, a hand covering his eyes as the leader pulled back on the reins and stared around at the mess of dead darkspawn. Myra slid into him, a hand wrapped around his side as much to keep herself up as it seemed to cling tight in case this wasn't over. But he recognized that face, the armor, and the livery decorating the mounts.

  Rosamund tossed her bow over her shoulder and shouted, "Henry!"

  The Arl of Redcliffe's son smiled grimly at the sight of her survival and tipped his head at the mess, "I see we came just in the nick of time. Father's not going to be very happy about this."

  "Either of them," Myra mumbled into the side of Gavin's neck. He wanted to throw both his arms around her and hold her tight, but he could feel the assassin eyeing him up. She wiped her bloody arm against her forehead and very obviously slotted her daggers back in their sheathes.

  After today, Gavin didn't have it in him to make a fuss.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  A Lie's End

  She cast a quick look over her shoulder, watching as hands lifted Avery's still body onto the pyre. There should be a proper funeral for him, he was of the crown and with noble blood, but...they had hundreds of darkspawn bodies to clean up as well, and their campsite was a disaster. Rosamund heaved a sigh and tried to run a hand over her hair.

  "My Lady," one of the scattered, then discovered, handmaidens grabbed onto her ichor coated arms and pulled them down. "Please, not until we've had a chance to wash you."

  Her head nodded dumbly, but she kept staring at the dead flocked by the living. They didn't lose many, thank the Maker, but each loss stung. In twisting, she spotted the squires piled together -- all of them seemed to be slapping Gavin and the dwarf on the back. The former had his arm wrapped in a tight bandage, which Myra assisted with. Though, once the battle was over and the day finished by Henry and his men, her stalwart, caustic tongued sister wrapped her arms around Rosie and babbled something she could barely understand.

  It was funny. She'd been solid through it all. Didn't scream or cry at Avery's demise, kept up the barrage of arrows even while the darkspawn swarmed over people about to rend them limb from limb, but watching Myra break down did her in. Strong, never wavering Myra, shattered her resolve. By the time the sisters glanced up, wiping tears from their eyes, Rosie caught Anjali's look. The assassin shrugged a shoulder, then winced in pain. Crimson blood dribbled from her shoulder, a tear in her leathers evident. Rosie wanted to rush over and tend to it, to thank her for shielding her from so many attacks, but Henry returned.

  Cousin Henry, sort of-cousin, was tall but elegant. He didn't swagger but seemed to glide even while in armor, a hand always gripping to the sword at his side, a helmet of the realm clutched in the crook of his arm. He bore an easy smile, which he'd share to any and all, and a softness of the heart much like his father's that was known throughout Ferelden.

  "We've done what we could to cut the throats and pile the darkspawn up for burning. I suggest soon before their rot infects further than it needs to," Henry slid closer to Rosie and placed a foot upon a barrel.

  She nodded her head, "That's the order I gave. A lucky thing you were here to help or..." Deep inside she didn't want to weigh how close it could have been, even as they all fought tooth and nail for their lives.

  "Luck nothing," Henry sighed, brushing a weary hand up his face and knotting back the red hair. "We'd been hunting these darkspawn for weeks. Chasing them all up and down the cursed Hinterlands. I hoped to catch the creatures when they emerged out of their holes but never imagined your caravan would be here or trapped in the middle."

  "I doubt the darkspawn did either," Rosamund said. She caught her brother standing a bit off to the side, a hand wrapped around his upper arm. He said he wasn't injured, but he refused to remove it. W
orried about blight, Rosie asked around and her people said that no one attacked them after the squires and mage rescue. Cailan just needed to hold himself for a bit.

  Squires and mage. She knew all too well who that group was. Myra was orbiting near Gavin but not quite walking near him. The pair must have taken it upon themselves, and another, to rise to defend the caravan. Even Henry was impressed when he was told they managed to fend off the attack upon the arms. When the body gathering group drug an emissary onto the pile, he whistled and his eyes grew wider.

  A voice cut through the stench of charred flesh and souls leaving across the veil. Rosie turned to find Ser Daryan standing as tall as she could, the woman looking little worse for the wear given how coated in ichor everyone else was. "Ser Daryan," Rosamund called, waving the woman over.

  Cold blue eyes churned through the much younger face, but Daryan did as commanded. "Yes, your highness?"

  "I'd like an explanation of what exactly occurred," Rosie said, her hands patting into her stomach. She could feel Henry staring from his short cousin over to the towering woman in armor. Barely dinged or dirtied armor.

  "Ma'am?" Daryan tipped her head in confusion, but her red rimmed eyes darted around the area. "Darkspawn attacked."

  "Yes, they did. And yet I find myself curious where you were..."

  "She was ordering us from behind the barricades." The new voice skipped up a moment, causing both Rosie and Daryan to whip over at Squire Gavin with a flushed face. He'd been across the field and must have broken into a run to make it over so quickly.

  "That's..." Daryan began, but Rosamund lifted a hand up to silence her.

  "After, your Majesty..." he pulled in a breath to steady himself.

  "Take your time," Rosie smiled, well aware of how close he came to death. If she understood the reports correctly, a few times. "It's been a long day for us all."

  "After Snowy and I rescued the Prince and the others, we stumbled upon Ser Daryan taking out a pack of hurlocks." He stood so tall, his chin stuck out while he locked his hands behind his back. Turning around, he stared at the dwarf, "Right, Snowy?"

  For his part, the dwarven squire shrugged, sighed, then stuck his thumb up in agreement.

  It was obvious Gavin was glaring at the man even with his face turned away from Rosie, but when he looked back it reset to neutral. "Ser Daryan was the one to instruct us to build up the barricade. To prepare a wave of combat to take down the darkspawn, and..."

  "And to order my sister to take them head on, including an emissary?" Rosie interrupted. She watched Ser Daryan's jaw drop, the woman's rosy cheeks turning to blinding red rage as if she was about to shout at her squire for such a thing.

  "No, your highness, Myra chose to fight on her own."

  Rosamund snorted at the first truth he'd told. "After you finished Ser Daryan's brilliant strategy to protect the wagon of armor and arms, what then? What happened to her?"

  "She chose to remain behind, afraid there might be another wave, while we were sent off to scout out your location and procure you to safety."

  It was a good lie, it put all the squires under it and no one else. None of them would be stupid enough to risk their Knight's wrath at revealing the truth of her vanishing during an attack. Stretching her neck, Rosamund sighed. She could call him on it, but he saved her life. Saved countless lives from the sound of real events. Whatever his reasons for covering for the Knight were, she'd let him have them.

  "Thank you, Squire Gavin. And thank you for...for keeping my sister safe."

  His lips slipped up into a wide smile, the eyes misting over as he bobbed his head, "Always."

  "Ser Daryan, it seems your plans and tactics were successful," Rosie turned to her, not hiding the scowl.

  The Knight blinked a moment. She expected to be all but hamstringed or hanged as a traitor. Daryan's liquid ice eyes trailed Gavin as he scampered back to the squires that all went deathly quiet. "Of course, my Lady. Is that not why I am here?"

  "I am beginning to wonder," Rosie whispered to herself. "Regardless," she shook her hands, "please assist in the clean up, counting the heads, assessing any injuries. It is a wonder how you escaped so unscathed."

  "Skill," Daryan spat out, "your Majesty." She glared at Gavin who was staring at the ground, her eyes never leaving the boy as she stomped off towards the first darkspawn pyre needing a light. Attempting to appear important, Daryan grabbed the flint off the man struggling to get the wet wood aflame. She struck it twice, barely a spark breaking free, when the entire stack erupted into giant flames.

  Rosamund glanced away from the startled Knight to find Myra waving her hands and sneering. Her sister was torturing the woman more, but given the circumstances, Rosie couldn't entirely blame her.

  She wished she could tumble into a bed. No, a cool bath to scrub the muck of the fight off, but she had so many other matters to attend -- like finding housing for all her people and protection. At least on that matter, she had help.

  "Rosie," Henry reached over with his gloved hand to catch hers, his crystal eyes burning with sympathy, "we'll guide your group to Redcliffe. Keep you all safe."

  With a grateful smile, Rosie wrapped her arm around his shoulders in a half hug, "Thank you. I hoped you'd offer because we're..." In turning to encompass the mass of her people in pain, she caught sight of umber eyes burning into the ground in barely repressed agony. How badly was the wound hurting her? Rosie's heart leapt into her throat at the idea of this woman she barely knew, this woman that was trained to kill and could still be here to kill her, perishing.

  She moved towards Anjali, wanting to properly check for blight, when a man dashed through the camp. His eyes hunted over the various faces before he slapped his cheeks and shouted, "There she is!" It wasn't until he was practically on top of her that Rosie recognized the archer she sent back to warn his people. "Miss, you saved me. Saved us all. If them monsters got into our town..."

  Turning away from Rosie, he revealed a small child with a pile of golden curls clinging tight to a woman's hand. The man's voice caught as he sucked in a snot filled breath, "Or they took my baby. I... Please, please stay, let us help you anyway we can."

  Smiling, she patted his worn hands, "We'd be delighted." The townsfolk appeared from behind the archer, fanning out to assist in anyway they could. Rosie leaned closer and whispered, "Incidentally, do you think there's a chance to arrange a bath?"

  * * *

  Redcliffe was exactly how she remembered, the palace surprisingly inviting for one that was so easily fortified. Having half of your walls end in a cliffside overlooking the lake would do that. But the doors were thrown wide open, people from the local village lining up the sides to welcome back their beloved Arl's son. Henry waved from his horse, Rosie perched in front of him. She'd offered to walk, but he wouldn't hear it. She was -- after all -- to be queen, and queen's rode.

  Dozens of roses littered the ground, people suddenly pointing towards the girl positioned before the saddle horn who was wishing she put riding pants on instead of being stuck sidesaddle. She brightened her smile while internally screaming, "Yes, it's your princess. Doing her best to keep her ass from sliding right off this poor horse. If you're wondering, it's not going so well."

  Every now and then Henry had to reach over to keep her steady, but he did it so smoothly it was barely noticeable. As they reached the front doors, the horse coming to a standstill in the courtyard, Rosie was finally free to slide off. She didn't wait for the gallant Henry to dismount, the woman needing to revive her asscheeks before they lost all feeling permanently. A few of the watchers jabbed and laughed when she glanced back at the Arl's son with his hand extended towards her.

  Putting on the same stupid smile, she gripped onto her cousin's hand and helped him out of the saddle. "Well," Henry chuckled having landed close to Rosie, "we appear to have arrived."

  "And in one piece, all thanks to you."

  "I'd say your retinue had a hand in that," he extended his gallant arm b
ack to the squires who stood in their finest all lining in pairs behind them. While Ser Daryan and Ser Michael led the pack, the latter requiring a cane while his leg healed, Gavin stood close in deference of his service. Beside him was Anjali, her eyes hooded as she stared around the strange courtyard. Whenever they landed upon Henry, she'd stand up a bit taller and shift her neck as if she was sizing him up. The first time Rosie saw it she assumed she was imagining things, but their entire trip to Redcliffe while the old cousins caught up, she never stopped. Rosie didn't understand. Unless Henry reminded her of someone else she hated, it made no sense.

  Hopping off his horse, the legs bowed a bit from lack of use, came her brother. Cailan swiped a hand along his wilted hair and groaned, "Thank the Maker we're here. I thought my...crown jewels were going to rattle right off."

  Rosie pursed her lips at the crassness, but Myra -- leaping up fast from behind -- added on. "That's nothing. Boys balls are tiny. Try having breasts." She mimed a pair on her chest and waved the palms up and down erratically, then laughed as did Cailan. "No idea how Rosie survives it with hers."

  Snarling at anyone pointing to her chest, Rosamund tried to somehow cover herself with her dress further. "Would you both stop being so...could you behave?"

  Cailan and Myra both met eye to eye then snickered. "Doubt it."

  Before Henry had a chance to hop up the stairs, the door opened to reveal his father standing there. Arl Teagan beamed at his son first, then turned to find the other three standing near. "You found them," he gasped in surprise and joy, the older man hobbling down the few stairs while Henry rose up to meet him. "Without complication?"