Chapter Thirteen

"Hiruun, stop!" Dyl growled, moving slowly in an arc around the beast and her prey, padding slowly across the snow into her view and they heard Vindal's pained gasp as he caught sight of them. They moved as gracefully as a dancer over the field of white, their grey pelt looked like quicksilver in the moonlight in a testament to the liquid prowess of a forest hunter made manifest; but as they glided over the frost-frozen clearing, evidence of the brutality of their own experience came into full view - dark scars ran along the throat and up the face, one ear was entirely missing and their eyes were the same wild golden as the werewolf's; the man groaned as the wolf's jaws tightened down on his chest, he was seized by the left shoulder and the newly changed werewolf's bite was already strong enough to crush ribs, as she demonstrated with another deep snarl, her teeth sinking ever closer to his heart.

"Hiruun," Dyl's voice was a low snarl of warning, they crouched low to the ground but still held the pup's eyes as they bared their teeth. "I remember you; you are not a monster. You are not a killer."

The wolf froze and her jaws visibly slackened their hold on the man, who groaned weakly. Dyl paced closer, putting a paw on his dropped blade and stretched out, low to the ground again, offering her a palm. "Let him go, come with-"

They froze, twisting and inhaled sharply, testing the wind with sudden alarm; the pup did the same, releasing Vindal who collapsed under her, but she did not understand what they both sensed. She growled in challenge to what she smelled, and bristled, Dyl rose up onto two legs with teeth bared.

"We need-"

They did not get to finish their warning, a massive beast easily thrice the size of the welp and covered in scars charged from the woods with a roar. He was dark and on his heels came a dozen more massive furred monstrosities, a great brown figure tackled Hiruun and the pale beast shrieked and floundered in the snow, yelping in terror. The grey form had no time to react as the Pack Master bellowed and swung at them, his strike was like a mule's kick and they were thrown back into the brush and tumbled down the hill, clawing and scrabbling to regain footing while the Pack above milled around the newly changed wereling and her captor.

"Wait," Vindal wheezed as the brown one leaned down, teeth bared towards the pup's throat. "She is strong, she will serve well."

The beasts turned on him and then fell back as the leader whirled with a snarl and leapt on him. He groaned in pain, and then managed a weak grin up at the terrifying beast.

"We were interrupted before I could complete the bonding; but no matter, now you are here and I need not yield her to you, she is your newest daughter, Pack Master. The one who fled you last moon." His words began to slur but Vindal did not seem afraid, though he smiled up at the beasts in near-delirium.

The big beast turned and snapped at the brown, who fell away though she snarled furiously at him for it. He paced around Hiruun, who lay prone and whimpered in fear, then he lunged atop her and the pup screamed in terror, and for a long moment there was utter confusion in the clearing. Unseen, a lanky grey form climbed high up a pine and found purchase, reaching for their bow and watching desperately. Silently, they asked for the forest's aid and felt a spark of answer where their fingers held the arrow notched.

The Pack Master shifted, holding the welp in his jaws as she yelped and whined, and Vindal slowly managed to rise off the ground though he walked unsteadily over to sit out of the way of the Pack's chaos. After a few minutes, she stopped struggling or crying and - as though satisfied - the Pack Master released her with a snarl then turned and sniffed the air but Dyl was downwind of them for the moment so he lumbered away into the dark trees and most of the pack followed quickly, the brown one snapping at Hiruun and chasing her along with the rest though she whimpered and whined piteously long after they were gone from sight. Vindal lingered behind tending the deep wounds on his chest, and then finally stood and walked towards where they had fallen down the slope. He followed their path down the hill but lost it there though he searched for several minutes. Dyl was quite pleased that they were nowhere near the tree he looked up at as he spoke, unaware entirely of the arrow they aimed between his shoulder blades.

"Well done, cousin," he called out very softly. "You've stolen her and not even she knows it; but you don't understand the stakes of what's to come. You've begun something wondrous and I know you don't trust me yet, but you saved me from her jaws and one day I will earn a place beside you. To start, I will protect your pup."

He turned then and limped back up the hill slowly, he followed the path of the pack across the clearing and then deeper into the forest and Dyl kept the arrow drawn back and ready until long after he disappeared from view or hearing and their arms ached from the tension. The moon was fully up now, shining over the trees and they turned to look up at, sniffing the wind and leaned against the trunk as their form shrank back to human proportions. They pulled their cloak up but left the cowl down, and began the climb down cautiously, listening and sniffing for any sign of pursuit.

They were cold and tired and hurt all over from the brute's strike and the tumble down through brambles and over rocks; but they trudged doggedly through the woods, skirting a wide path towards the town's walls before cutting back again for the hidden tunnel into the city. The sewer would be a safe enough place for one night, they decided, and then they'd have to find Ebon at first light. Their heart sped up as they remembered the bounty and they were so distracted with worry that they nearly missed the tracks in the snow in their haste but - just as they came over the final hill - they noticed several new sets of tracks running to the trap door from the south - and the tell-tale tracking of blood. With a frown, Dyl slipped into the tunnel and followed the path cautiously back under the city's wall, bared blades in hand.

In the tunnel ahead, they heard voices and froze, edging ahead very slowly and carefully, mindful not to let a single movement give away their presence even as their hands tightened on the weapons.

"... under the walls," a familiar voice whispered, "and out by a stable. There's a bolt-hole I know nearby."

"Do you think you can find them, Dag?" A girl's voice replied and a soft chuckle answered.

Dyl clucked their tongue three times, "I told you not to come back."

Ebon smiled in relief at the sight of them and rushed forward, catching them in a tight hug before they could even stow their weapons, then he let go of them and leaned in close to their face in desperation as he saw the bruises. "Dyl! Thank the gods you're alright, I was worried when you didn't show up today and then there were bounty hunters, and - hold on, are you alright? You're hurt!"

They frowned, shaking their head a little. "I think so, not badly. But Ebon, hunters? Are you?"

He shrugged, "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Syl burned the house down around us, and I got stabbed, but I'm fine."

Dyl's eyes widened and they looked at the girl then back to him with increasing concern, "Ebon!"

He tried to protest but they quickly located the wound and said several choice things about his wits in his own tongue, which Ebon grinned at first, then winced as their fingers pressed against the torn armor over the wound and pain suddenly blossomed all through his chest. They swore as he toppled sideways with a groan and it took all three of them to get him up and out of the tunnel. Despite their every instinct telling them it was suicide to be seen, Dyl half led-half carried Ebon down one of the widest and straightest streets in the city as the other two seemed to disappear into shadows. All the way to the steps of the Temple of the Dawning Glory where the guards called out first in greeting then alarm at their approach and rushed to help carry Ebon directly to the hall of healers, they moved in near silence but Dyl was grateful for the men's arrival as they were barely able to keep Ebon moving forward - they were so exhausted and he so heavy.

Sylaise materialized at their elbow as the guards rushed Ebon ahead and they gave her an approving nod, then followed and did not trouble themself as to the goblin's whereabouts. They had realized that if he did not follow directly, he would not go far or let the elfish girl out of his sight for long; the two had not spoken on it, but they approved of how he cared for her, just as they watched over Ebon. The thoughts were shaken from their mind when two women in the garb of priests took one look at the blood Ebon tracked in and tutted in concern, hurrying him towards an empty cot on one side of the room while a younger girl ran to fetch supplies as she was bid.

Dyl turned and caught one of the young acolytes of the temple by the arm as he hurried by - a faun with ruddy hair and hazel eyes - and said something to him in a language that their companions did not recognize, nor did the guards by their expressions, but the boy smiled and answered them quickly in the same flowing tongue.

"Sanctuary, brother. I ferry innocent souls through the mists." Dyl invoked the old words of the Forest Rites and saw the boy recognize them.

He smiled, "Let not the innocent fear the Light. Follow me, friend."

He turned and gestured and Dyl nodded to the others, all three followed him down a short corridor, through a door into a kitchen that was empty given the hour with the oven fires banked; they followed through narrow halls that led further along past modest dining rooms then through another door and down a flight of stairs, then another. The goblin was looking nervous and Sylaise downright afraid as they proceeded so Dyl offered encouragement as best they could.

"We will be safe here, to rest and heal."

"Indeed," the boy at the front nodded, glancing over his shoulder with a bright smile. "When the Green Guard come to the Temple for aid, we will always answer."

"As the Dawn Priests always have," Dyl answered softly, with a deep gratitude.

The boy told them his name was Rowan, and he left them before the door to a room with three sets of bunks in it, he did not ask their names but promised instead that he would bring them food shortly before he hurried away again. They turned into the room and Dyl moved close to the fire to warm themself as the other two lingered further from the flames. There was a soft knock and a bent old man leaning heavily on a walking stick entered, his robes were modest and he smiled easily, gesturing towards a table at one side of the room.

"Please, sit, and we will tend your wounds," behind him, one of the young acolytes stood with arms full of jars and rolls of cloth. She followed silently in and began to arrange the items on the table.

Despite the evident burns to his ears and hands, With-Two-Daggers gestured at Sylaise, "Eyes-Like-Jewel, you first girly."

She looked to protest but Dyl made a sound of agreement and she sighed, then limped forward and sat meekly. The old man was kindly and took her hands, tutting at the burns, then began to clean them before applying a balm that smelled of mint and stung badly on the fresh wounds. She hissed and whimpered but he held her hand firmly and gently continued to apply the salve until all the wounds were treated. By the time he finished on her second hand, the first was blissfully numb though she couldn't stop the tears when the lobe of one ear was carefully treated; but the priest murmured encouragingly and when he finished, she was gently led by his attendant to one of the bunks and wrapped in a blanket.

As With-Two-Daggers was waved over, the girl turned towards the fireplace and watched the hunter strip off their weapons in a slow and methodical order. "What," she demanded softly, "is going on? Where's Ebon, why are you so calm? I thought we were in danger here."

"The Temple will not allow any bounty be claimed within its halls," Dyl answered softly, their eyes flicking to the old priest who smiled and nodded in agreement to their words.

The girl gestured to the room, unconvinced, "So we're what? Guests?"

"Safe." Dyl shrugged and began to slowly unwind their scarves, folding each and setting them down in a strangely ritualistic order.

Sylaise was not convinced, she pursed her lips and looked around the room for a few moments; she watched as the priest tended to the old goblin's wounds and when he was released, he joined her on the same bunk and curled up happily in his own blanket. Dyl crossed to the priest and removed the layers of furs and hides from their torso; underneath, a light blouse did not hide the dark bruises on their neck and face, or their arms, and as the priest gently probed their sides, the hunter could not quite prevent themself from flinching. The old man tutted and Dyl's head dipped in a nod of assent to his apparent diagnosis, the young woman came over and held up a blanket to shield them and then Dyl stripped off their shirt too. The salve would do no good to the injured ribs, but the priest rummaged and then drew out a different jar that was filled with a thick dark paste that smelled almost rancid, their nose wrinkled in disgust but they stood still and obediently raised their arms when he directed.

Once their chest was wrapped and they had choked down a tonic that left their eyes watering as they tried not to gag, the priest let them re-dress and directed that all three should rest. The balms would need time to work, and there was little as good for recovery as sleep; though none hid their delight at the meal Rowan brought in at just that moment. There was a loaf of bread, wedge of cheese, bowls of a thick stew and a jug of ale which he and the unnamed girl served out and each silently began to eat as the servants of the temple left them again in privacy. Dyl pulled the pheasant from their pack and though Sylaise turned her nose up, With-Two-Daggers joined them in reducing it to bones and scraps. For a while, they were quiet as they ate but eventually, Dyl noticed that Sylaise was staring at them.

"I can cut your hair for you, if you want. I cut Dag's. I'm… pretty handy with a razor." Dyl glanced her way with an expression of serious contemplation; she turned back to her soup, dunking the bread into the thick brown broth and then took a large bite. With-Two-Daggers was nibbling suspiciously at a large chunk of turnip he had found in the bowl and making a face of disgust.

"That… I would be grateful." They answered slowly and did not turn to look at the fire again.

"Tomorrow alright with you?" Sylaise saw them nod and fell quiet again.

Soon, the bowls and cups were empty and the only sounds in the room was the crackling fire and a soft snoring coming from the goblin where he was still sharing a pillow with the girl. Dyl lay awake, propped on pillows and wincing at every breath, watching the room and listening for any sign of danger but no such alarm was raised and eventually, despite their intent, their eyes slowly closed and they relaxed back into dreams.

~~~

The dice clattered over the stone table, iron and brass ingots rested beside clay castles and wooden fortresses. Golden eyes glinted in the starlight and laughter echoed from the shadows but he did not react as she pushed one small token beyond the crevasse. He conceded the ruby prize and watched her thin lips turn up into a delighted smile and sneered, reaching to move a large bone icon up the pass.

"You cannot reach the summit before me," she did not answer his challenge but plucked up the ivory talismans and rolled them between her palms, surveying the board before casting them again and he scowled as the next round began.

"Can't I? You've left yourself open with a thousand little weaknesses."

"And you've opportunity to strike?"

She smiled beatifically, grey eyes shining with cunning and calm, "I don't need one."

He watched with rage as she raised an onyx shape from the tray and set it atop the crag, and there was a flash as his champion roared and charged towards the danger. There was a soft rumble of thunder and little flashes of minute lightning as the challenge was answered. He reached for the dice again and tried to tamp down on his frustration.

"Well played, lady huntress, but do you believe that will save your knight?"

"The knight was lost many ages ago, yet you did not seize it at your advantage," she purred softly, watching as he pushed three bronze figures towards her silver knight and the sounds of steel ringing echoed, voices calling from beyond the reach of the board did not trouble either player.

"What are you playing at?" He leaned over the board to meet her eyes.

She looked at him and smiled that perfectly veiled smile again, grey eyes roving his face as she lifted the chalice to her lips. "Destiny, sweetling. Dare you join the dance?"

"My lady, if you desire to dance, then permit me to strike up the band." He grinned viciously and reached for the dice again.