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Slaves to Passion (greybishop & ShadowOfDesire)

She shook her head lightly, glancing up from the trail to throw him another glance. "I'm not exactly sure. I do not mind ranging for Mathis, so perhaps I'll still stay for a while and save my wages for something bigger. My mother is still alive, as far as I know, and I would like to one day see her again. If I'm able, perhaps I could earn enough to buy her from her master, though it would take me years for that and work far beyond what Mathis pays." It seemed like an impossible sum when she thought about it, so she often didn't. She tried not to give herself any hope on that score.

"Perhaps I shall take up with a company if I find one that will have me. I wouldn't mind ranging about in other directions, learning the lands, and earning coin as I go." She offered a shrug, truly undecided about what she should do.

After a moment, she continued. "The people here are mostly good people. Working people. Honest people. I think you would like most of them. The villagers, of course. Merchants. Perhaps not the nobles." She wrinkled her nose.

"You have an easy way about you, for all that you look as though you might rip someone's head off at any moment. I enjoy your humor. Some warriors lose that after years of campaigning. I've see it many times, the enjoyment of life fading away. The more blood that is spilled, the more they become surly and jaded. Some begin that way. Others are able to fight the sickness and retain their humor. Have you seen the same in your travels?"

She paused to examine the trail, looking speculatively toward the east where the road branched. The eastern path was wild and slightly overgrown, and more of a trail than an actual road. Two ruts in the gravel showed where carts had passed for decades, perhaps centuries, though now the they were both overgrown. The central area was thick with weeds and brush, while the foliage on either side pressed in to narrow the path. A closer inspection showed that the grasses in the center of the trail had been bent down by something passing overhead. Likewise, several of the bushes had bent or broken limbs, showing that a cart or carriage had passed through. Jacelyn pulled one of the broken branches from the bush and swiped her finger across the break.

"Someone has passed this way recently, pulled by a pair of horses," she told him. Tossing away the branch, she gestured. "Impossible to say whether it was a carriage or a simple cart, though the height of the breaks in the brush suggest the former. Regardless, the cemetery is this way and the ruins are beyond. Perhaps half a candlemark to get there."
 
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Lukas nodded when Jacelyn talked about her mother. “Aye, family is important. That’s the one thing I regret about not going back to Ragnit; seeing my mother again and also my grandparents if they're still alive. But if I did that, I’d be risking seeing my father the Abbot too, so …” The big sellsword shrugged as he thought about the task Jacelyn had set for herself; buying her mother’s freedom would be expensive, but probably not impossible. It would all depend on what her master had paid for her and how valuable to him she was now.

After they’d rode on a bit further he addressed her latest question. “Well now, I think you have the right of it again lass. Following Mares path can be a hard road. But as usual, the gods have given men a choice about how they handle that. Some warriors get hard about everything, all the time.” Lukas shrugged at that notion. “But others remember that most things can be laughed about as well. And that a good laugh can make a heavy load seem a little lighter for a time. Or make a pretty girl smile, and look even prettier too.” Lukas ventured one of his crooked grins at that point, as he looked at the ranger to see what she made of his obvious compliment.

Lukas was no ranger, but he’d been on enough scouts to understand what Jacelyn had seen and was talking about; a carriage had turned off the highway down the gravel trail leading east. And given what Master Gideon had told them, that carriage probably was the one carrying Isolde and Lord Balan; now they were getting somewhere. The pair walked their horses down the path in amicable silence for a time and then the surrounding trees opened up as they emerged into a large, wide open field covered in wooden headboards and the occasional headstone. A low, tree covered hill jutted up on the other side of the field and the sellsword could see that the hill was dotted with broad patches of red and blue; undoubtedly the sweet berries that Isolde had been looking for. There was also a caretaker’s cottage nearby and Lukas could also see a woman hanging washing on a line outside, while a small child sat on the ground near her feet and another youngster ran about waving a stick in the air.

“Well lass, I think we’ve found the place we’re looking for. What do you think? Head straight to the hill, or go talk to the caretaker’s wife first?”
 
Jacelyn said nothing in response to Lukas' flirtations, though the half smile that pulled at her lips told him much more than words ever could. Despite her upbringing, past trails, and her very un-ladylike profession, she was still female, and still enjoyed compliments. Jacelyn was accustomed to them, for she'd worked with soldiers for much of her life, and many enjoyed making rude or bawdy comments to the women among their number. The bolder ones might attempt to claim her for the night, but she was no longer a slave. She had a choice, and made that clear. The first man to touch her without her permission after she'd been freed had found a dagger pressed to his balls. There were very few attempts after that, though the threat of violence never stopped men from flirting.

Her attention shifted ahead as they broke free of the trees and into the fields. She scanned the headstones, then the hill, but her gaze eventually swung back to the cottage ahead. Her chin lifted in response to his question, pointing in that direction. "Aye, better to start there and discover what they know. Unless they were away at the time, it'd be impossible not to notice Lord Balan's fine carriage rolling down the lane."

Urging her mare onward, she lifted a hand in greeting as they approached the woman seeing to her wash. "Hail, Mistress. I am Jacelyn and this is Lukas, two travelers seeking information. MIght you have a moment to speak with us on a matter of great import?" Her hesitancy at speaking with men did not also include women. She seemed relaxed and confident as the approached the edge of the cottage's garden. Her gaze flitted briefly over the children, offering an easy smile to them both.
 
The woman turned to answer Jacelyn, but before she could respond the boy with the stick ran across the garden to stand in front of their horses. As he came to a halt the boy looked startled for a moment, then pointed up at the ranger and exclaimed “You’re a girl!” in a loud, shrill voice. Lukas chuckled at this great revelation, which caused the boy to turn his attention towards him.

“Are you a knight?”

“No lad, I’m a sellsword.”

The boy scratched his arm for a second. “You sell swords? But you look like a knight.”

“No boy, knights wear shining armor.” Lukas gestured at his hauberk. “Does this look shiny to you?”

The boy picked his nose as he thought about that. “Well, it’s made of metal innit? If you polished it a bit it’d be all shiny like” he finally said, looking rather proud of himself.

Lukas shook his head and was about to reply when the woman came bustling up behind the boy; one of her arms was holding the baby on her hip and she wrapped the other over the boy’s shoulder and chest protectively as she nervously looked up at the sellsword. “Pardon the boy Sir knight, sometimes he doesn’t know when to hold his tongue.”

“I’m not a knight. My name is Lukas.”

“Aye Sir Lukas, just as you say.” The woman dipped her head at the sellsword deferentially.

Lukas’ head dropped forward so that he was looking at the pommel of his saddle and Jacelyn could see he was also gritting his teeth. Then he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, slowly exhaled and turned his head sideways so that he was looking at the ranger. “I think it’d be best for you to talk to this good woman and her lovely child lass. I’ll go keep watch.” Lukas reined Paulus around and began walking his horse away from the cottage. As he did the boy called out after him.

“I can come help you watch Sir Lukas!” As the boy’s mother shushed him Jacelyn could see the sellsword hunching his broad shoulders forward, as if he was somehow trying to disappear in the saddle.

The woman gave the boy a little shake as she scolded him. “Quiet now Brandon!” Then she looked up at Jacelyn; the ranger could see the woman’s nervousness had all but disappeared and been replaced with open curiosity. “I’m Madeline and this is Lizzy.” Madeline bounced her hip a little as she introduced Lizzy and it made the baby giggle. “And you’ve already met Bran. How can we help ye?”
 
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She watched Lukas depart, staring after him for a moment, wondering why the comparison irked him. All of the soldiers she knew were simply soldiers, sellswords and mercenaries. Jacelyn had seen a knight once during his travels through the north, but he looked like any other soldier she'd met. Perhaps his armor had been nicer, but his sword had been rather ordinary with no jewels in the pommel as in all the stories. She made a mental note to ask Lukas on his opinion of knights. Later. For now, they she had questions for the woman.

Jacelyn inclined her head. "Well met. My master has sent me in search of his daughter, betrothed to Lord Balan, and both were said to have come through here within the past sevenday. Did you see them?"

"Aye, his lordship and lady arrived some days back. Come to pick berries atop the hill, as many do when they are in season. My husband cares for the dead here and offered to show them the path to the tower ruins. The berries are plentiful there and sweet. Lord Balan was generous with his coin."

Her jaw twitched. "How long did they stay, good lady? Did you see them along on their departure?"

The change in the woman was immediate. Her eyes sparked with a hint of fear as she glanced toward the cemetery and the hill beyond. "Nae. My husband went about his business and left them to theirs. Someone has been disturbing the graves of the recent dead, a pox on them all. We see from time to time. Thieves searching for family heirlooms and the like, as though the poor folk in these parts would bury such precious things. He had much to occupy him, and his lordship had guards for protection, so there was no need for us to host him further."

The ranger looked back to the path where the carriage would have stopped, then to the hill. Something was worrying at her, some detail nagging at her that she'd missed. What was it?

"How long were they here? Do you recall?"

"A few candlemarks, perhaps? I was tending the younglings, so I cannot say for certain. A strange thing. I never heard the carriage pull away, but they were gone when I next looked."

"Your husband saw them not?" The woman shook her head, and Jacelyn sighed inwardly. She pulled a few coins from her pouch and gestured to the boy, leaning in the saddle. "Here, boy. Fetch these for your mother." The boy met her eagerly, small hands open to accept the offering. He grinned. Jacelyn's smile answered as she straightened. "Your husband -- might we speak with him? Is he tending his business there?" She gestured to the graveyard.

The woman shook her head. "Nae, he left early for Helia and will not return until midday. Perhaps you might meet him upon the road if you venture in that direction. His name is Piryl."

"My thanks," she nodded. "We will likely head up to see these ruins while we're here. Blessings go with you if we see you not before we depart."

Turning from the cottage, Jacelyn sent her mare to join Lukas, gesturing toward the cemetery with her head. She said nothing, however, until they were well away from the cottage and walking the path that led among the gravestones. Only then, out of earshot, did she relay what the woman had told her. It made little sense to her, but she still wished to see the hill for any signs of Isolde. And still, some little detail nagged at her. She prodded it like one might a sore tooth, unable to leave it be.
 
Lukas sat and fumed while Jacelyn talked to the caretaker’s wife; he wasn’t a knight and had never claimed to be one. And he certainly didn’t look or act like one either. So it irked him to no end when not only the boy but his mother started calling him Sir. Not that they were mocking him; he wasn’t so irritated he couldn’t tell they were just honestly confused common folk. Which was why he’d ridden off on Paulus, before he scared the mother any further. But he had to wonder what sort of information Jacelyn would get from someone so daft as to mistake him for a knight. The sellsword could tell Paulus had picked up on his mood because the horse was trying to turn his head to see what was bothering his rider, so he leaned forward and stroked the beast’s neck as he spoke to it. “Easy boy, it’s alright. That lad just thought I was a knight and you were my great horse;” Lukas chuckled when Paulus whinnied and tossed his head. Did the horse think the idea was as silly as he did, or did Paulus actually like the idea of being mistaken for a destrier?

By the time Jacelyn rode back over to him Lukas was feeling better and he quietly followed and listened as the ranger related what Madeline had remembered; it seemed the caretaker's wife wasn’t so daft after all. He mulled things over as they walked their horses through the cemetery, letting his eyes drift over the grounds; the place seemed to be looked after well enough, even though the majority of the graves were marked with simple headboards instead of more expensive stones; this Piryl seemed to take his job seriously. As they neared the hill on the other side of the field Lukas thought he could see a trail leading up its side and he finally halted Paulus to talk to Jacelyn.

“Well lass, it seems we have a mystery on our hands. If Lord Balen’s carriage never made it to Helia, and wasn’t seen again in Sinclaire, then where did it go?” The big sellsword gestured off to the east, where a thin stand of trees bordered the grounds around the base of the hill. “Did they decide to go for a ride on the goat trail that you said leads through the mountains?” Lukas shook his head and laughed at that notion. “And there might be grave robbers about too? Well now, I can see cowardly dogs like them being a concern for a poor young mother left all alone, but a trained nobleman and his two guardsmen?" He shook his head. “Maybe a large band of very bold bandits, but not grave robbers.” The sellsword looked at the eastern treeline again, then squinted as he looked at the hillside; he thought he could make out some low lying stonework amid the foliage near the top, which might have been the base of the old watchtower Jacelyn had mentioned. If it had been built by the Imperials there probably was a small barracks still standing, even if the timbers of the tower had fallen away or been scavenged long ago. And there did also seem to be a path heading up to the top too.

“So it seems we have a choice. If you’d like to do some scouting to the east, see if we can find the carriage’s trail amid the trees, that makes sense and I’ll be happy to help as I can.” Lukas looked up at the hilltop. “Or before that we can leave the horses here, climb the path and see what we can find at the top.” The sellsword sat back in his saddle and grinned. “If you’d like to do that first, my suggestion is this: I go straight up the path, making as little noise as I can, while you scout about ahead o’ me or to the sides as you see fit, makin’ even less noise. If someone is lying in wait for me hopefully you’ll see ‘em first, and if you come upon somethin’ more than your bow can handle, just drift back to me and we’ll tackle it together.” Lukas’ grin broadened further. “But you’re the one with her hands on the purse strings, so if you’d prefer to do somethin’ else, that’s fine with me. But …” the sellsword’s voice grew serious “… if we do go to the top, an’ you make it there before me which is likely, you wait for me so I can go into the barracks first if it’s still standin’. Shields before bows into the breach lass; that’s what you’re payin’ me for.” Lukas was still smiling, but not in a friendly way; he didn’t look like much of a knight just then, and instead looked exactly like what he really was …
 
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Jacelyn shook her head, turning her attention briefly toward the hill before her gaze swung back to the trail. The cottage was on the opposite end of the cemetery, with a grove of trees between. Too far for anyone to see much unless it happened within a direct line of sight of the back door. Inclining her head toward the path that led upward to the precipice where the tower had once stood, she finally spoke.

"We know they went up, but no one can confirm they came back down again. His wife admitted that she did not see the carriage as it departed, so we cannot possibly know if Lord Balan or Isolde was aboard. We start here, with this hill, and then can scout along the eastern trail if this proves fruitless. It is always better to start with the certainties than allow assumptions to reign. I'll scout ahead, and you follow. It is not simply about making as little noise as possible, it is about leaving the area undisturbed. The smallest signs might lead to larger discoveries. As much as I will likely appreciate your skill at swordsmanship during this journey, I somehow doubt that you as as soft of foot as is needed to pass through a patch of clover and leave it undisturbed." She tossed him an answering smirk. "Rest assured, if there are any that are in need of skewering, I'll leave that to you."

Dismounting, she left her mare tied to one of the trees at the base of the hill. The beast made short work stripping the branches of any tender buds that were within reach of her greedy tongue. Jacelyn did not unsling her rapier from the saddle. It would likely snag in the taller foliage and become an impediment. Instead, she took her quiver of arrows and bow, slinging the former over her body and holding the latter tightly in one hand as she turned to survey the terrain. Even at the base of the hill, there should be sign of their comings and goings. Jacelyn led the way, eyes scanning the ground as she moved.
 
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Lukas laughed as Jacelyn called his softness of foot into question. “And how do you know that lass? I’ll have you know big men like me can be quite dainty when we want to be. Haven’t you ever seen a bull, quietly prancing across a field of clover to sneak up on some lovely looking heifer he’s taken a fancy too?” The sellsword had never in his life seen such a thing, but he still gave the ranger a big shite eating grin as he dismounted rather nimbly.

Paulus was tied to a tree nearby Jacelyn’s mare and Lukas gave his charger some final instructions. “Alright boy, you keep an eye on things down here and look after the lass’ mount. If anyone comes along you don’t like, go ahead and kick them in the head as hard as you please.” The warhorse just looked at the sellsword. “And if you do a good job of it, they’ll be another couple of carrots for you after, understand?” The horse whinnied and tossed his head, then went about happily stripping his tree as the ranger’s mare had.

In short order Lukas had donned his cap, coif and helmet, then gotten his shield comfortably settled into his left arm. Both his blades remained sheathed, since with Jacelyn scouting ahead he suspected he’d have plenty of time to draw steel if needed, and it’d also be a bit easier to move about that way. Given the deliberate pace the ranger was moving at while she scanned the ground, it was easy enough for Lukas to minimize the noise he made and also watch the trees ahead of and to the sides of Jacelyn as he followed her at a distance.

As they crept upward part of the sellsword’s mind worked over what they’d learned so far. The grave robbers didn’t worry him and he really didn’t think they were about to run into a ‘large band of very bold bandits;” if such were lurking about the caretaker or his wife would have certainly seen or been attacked by them. Which only really left some other noble striking at Lord Balan just before his wedding, when he was off away from his holdings. But besides a rival, doing that here would have required some foreknowledge of Isolde’s fondness for berries and her intention to visit this particular hill. Perhaps a spy in Balan’s household had passed that information along to someone who held a grudge against the lordling, and then they’d lain in wait to spirit him and his bride-to-be away? It was certainly possible, but if so they’d all be long gone; still, there was also the chance the ranger would find some sign that would let them take up the trail of the missing girl.

As sweat started trickling down the small of his back Lukas glanced upwards and saw they were making reasonable progress; he thanked the gods that the hill wasn’t terribly tall, or all that steep either. But then again if it had been, a blue blood and a wealthy merchant’s daughter would never have climbed up it either. “Well, we’ll see if they made it to the top soon enough” the sellsword thought, as he continued trailing behind Jacelyn and eying their surroundings for trouble …
 
The ranger took her time as she swept the hill, following the signs that Gyffard had taught her to see so long ago. She moved carefully, leaving as much of the surrounding grasses undisturbed as she climbed, pausing now and again to examine something in particular that caught her eye. Beyond the footprints that most anyone would notice, she found other interesting notables that would mean little to anyone save those with proper training.

What she found was not overly surprising. Five people came to the hills recently. She could see their gaits, the weight, could identify them by the size and shape of their footprints. Isolde was easiest to spot, her feet so dainty and the outline of her prints much shallower. Her maid had accompanied them, as well, and also wore slippers, though her feet were larger than the merchant's daughter. Three of the sets were left by men -- Lord Balan and his two guardsmen. Near the bottom of the hill, where the grasses grew tallest, two males and one female stayed behind while the other two struck out alone. The scenario was an easy one to envision. Lord Balan wished to spend time alone with his Isolde, and the hill was undisturbed and safe enough to leave his guards behind. Those two guards had trampled down a small area where the three of them could eat luncheon, though judging by the general chaos of the area, Jacelyn guessed that Isolde's maid had also provided the men with a different type of feast.

She moved on, following in the footsteps of her target, climbing until she reached the first of the brambles that dug into the hill. The sweet, cloying smell of berries was almost overwhelming. The bushes fruit in every stage, branches weighed down with the amount of berries they bore. Isolde had come to pick berries, and Jacelyn could see where some of the brambles had been stripped clean. Perhaps it had been the work of birds or animals, but animals weren't known to pick berries in wide, neat swaths. She found blood, as well, lingering on a cluster of thorns, and a snag of fabric that hung limply, nearly hidden by the shadows within the berry bush. Fingering the sleek bit of tunic, she identified it as Balan's, for Isolde would have been wearing a lighter fabric in a far prettier color.

Though she was concentrating on the hillside's secret story, Jacelyn was still vigilant about her surroundings. It did ease her nerves knowing that Lukas was close behind and would protect her if needed, but she'd rather not be caught unawares, even with the promise of the sellsword's blade. Save for the wildlife that hid or flew away as the questing pair traveled up the slope, the hillside was quiet and still. As she crested the top, she paused for a moment, crouching while she waited for Lukas to join her as he'd requested. The tower ruins stood crumbling a short distance away, the base choked with weeds and brambles and wildflowers that thrived in such places. Ivy had long since claimed the tower, creeping up the exterior stones, using the smallest cracks and ledges to take root as it strove for sunlight.

It was a peaceful, idyllic scene, and one she could see Isolde gasping over as she and her husband-to-be settled here to picnic and devour the fruits of their labor (and perhaps one another). It was peaceful until the exact moment when the wind shifted and Jacelyn was met with the foulest of stenches. It smelled of rotting meat. It smelled of death.

Rising to find the sellsword behind her, she hissed and gestured for him to hurry. It mattered not what he trampled upon now. The need to press forward and investigate was far greater.

Please, for the love of all gods, please... please don't let it be Isolde.
 
Despite being warm the walk up the hill was far from the worst Lukas had ever experienced while on campaign; it wasn’t actually hot yet, there was some cloud cover and the trees on the hillside provided a bit of shade too, though they did block the breeze somewhat. Better still he saw no large shapes flitting between the trees in the distance and the hillside remained quiet, though not silent; that would have been worrisome, and the soft sounds of birds flying off or small creatures scurrying away went a long way towards confirming they were the first ones to climb the path in a while. Though he remained vigilant out of habit, the big sellsword found he was actually enjoying the stroll and plucked a few berries to eat as he moved along behind Jacelyn.

That all changed as they neared the top and he closed up behind her; the stench of death was unmistakable and grew stronger as he neared the ranger and what remained of the watchtower’s foundation. As he settled in as quietly as he could beside Jacelyn, Lukas eyed what was left of the structure; though covered in vegetation it was still standing and to his eye looked to be Imperial made. That meant there was probably an open barrack room within and he looked about to see if he could find the doorway; after a moment he spied it on the western side of the ruin, still hidden in shade and partially overhung with vegetation. The sellsword paused for a few moments and eyed the rest of the hilltop, but everything around them still seemed as peaceful as the hillside had. So into the breach it was. As he eased his longsword from its scabbard, the sellsword whispered to the woman beside him.

“I go in first lass, to see what’s what. You watch my back as I do. If it seems no one is lurking about, come in behind me as quick as you can. Ready now?”

Lukas gave the ranger a moment to gather herself, then he stood and quickly walked straight towards the doorway; with every step he took the putrid smell got even stronger. No arrows came flying out at him so he ducked a little and stepped inside, tucking himself up behind his raised shield as he did. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light the sellsword heard a sound off to his left and as he turned, someone came rushing out of the darkness as if to bowl him over. As he’d done many times before Lukas instinctively planted his right foot, put his left shoulder up against his shield and slammed it forward with all his body weight just as the attacker reached him; he was pushed back a half step but not thrown off balance and even as his left foot settled his blade came around the right side of his shield hard and fast.

The sellsword’s first thrust sank deep into his foe’s gut and told him the fool who’d charged him wasn’t wearing any armor. So as hands started clawing at him around his shield Lukas pulled his blade back with a twist and, instead of slashing at his opponent’s legs, he quickly buried his sword in the man’s stomach twice more. But instead of going down, Lukas’ foe was amazingly still raking his fingernails against the mail covering the sellsword’s shoulders. “By the gods” he thought “what sort of maniac is he?” So Lukas peered over the top of his shield and got his answer.

The creature – for he couldn’t call it a man – that was flailing at him was gaunt, deathly pale and almost hairless. Its visage was twisted with mad hate and its mouth was full of sharp teeth that gnashed and slavered, as if the thing hungered to close its jaws around Lukas’ neck. And worst of all, its sunken eyes were actually glowing faintly with an unnatural, sickly green light. “What is this thing?”

Lukas hesitated for just a moment, but that moment cost him. For as the sellsword slammed his shield into the thing’s face, he felt one of its hands clawing across his right elbow, drawing blood in the gap between his hauberk and vambrace. The wound didn’t feel horribly deep, but as the creature started spitting out broken teeth and wiping at its mouth the sellsword felt a cold numbness begin creeping up his arm and down towards his fingertips. “Poison! The fucking thing has poisoned me!”

The sellsword had learned long ago that discretion really was the better part of valor sometimes, and so he backed out of the ruin, still tucked in behind his shield and trying to keep his sword in his hand. The thing followed him unsteadily and as it emerged into the brighter light outside Lukas could see it had once been a man and now was nearly naked; there were just scraps of clothing left on its lean body, which was as pale as its face and stood in stark contrast to the dark, dark ichor flowing freely from three deep wounds in its bloated belly. But still it stood, and eyed him with venom.

“Lass, your bow if you please!” Lukas called out. “Don’t let it near you!” The creature seemed to hesitate and look about, as if it actually understood its prey was calling to someone else; that was the last thing the sellsword wanted, so he feinted at his foe with his shield. “Hah! Look at me you shite bag! It was me who smashed your fucking teeth out!” As the creature turned its baleful gaze back towards Lukas, he felt his sword slipping from fingers he could no longer feel …
 
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By the time that Lukas reached the top of the hill, Jacelyn had an arrow nocked in her bow. With a slight nod to his plan, she kept a tight hold on both while following along, eyes scanning the trees that pressed in around the tower. Much of the structure had crumbled, leaving piles of stones scattered about where they'd fallen, but none were so large as to provide significant cover for anyone in hiding. Enemies would either be in the tower itself or concealed in the tall grasses that wove through the forest. Her primary attention was focused there as the sellsword disappeared into the tower, bright gaze flitting over the trees in search of movement.

The smell of decay was nearly overpowering closer to the tower. Jacelyn breathed through her mouth to block out most of it, trying to focus on her other senses. The sounds of conflict from within drew her attention, though she didn't jerk or startle. Rather, she backed well out of the way of the door, angling herself to one side of it so that she'd have a clear shot of anyone fleeing, but also be able to cover the forest. Ambush was always a possibility, or even some sort of trap, meant to spring on the next person visiting the hillside. Tension rose along with her nervousness, and she had to readjust her grip to keep her sweaty fingers from slipping free. Waiting was always the most difficult part. One never had much time to fear in the heat of battle, but the long span of time required to wait beforehand always gripped her fiercely.

Movement finally caught her eye, and her attention flickered to the door as she spotted Lukas retreating. A moment of shocked confusion altered her features as she tried to puzzle out what was so formidable that would cause the large swordsman to back away. Was there a party of armed men waiting to ambush them? A dangerous beast that had taken the tower as its lair? Gods, let us hope not. Lord Balan wouldn't have stood a chance against a bear or panther that might have claimed the area as its territory. She didn't think that the case, not with the caretaker and his family so close by, but she couldn't discount the possibility.

What emerged from the tower was far worse than she could have anticipated. The abhorrent smell grew stronger with its appearance, testifying that it was the cause of the putrid odor. She watched in shock as the creature lurched from the darkness in slow pursuit of Lukas. Never in all her years of ranging had she ever seen something so terrifying. What is this foul creature?!

She needed no encouragement from Lukas to attack. Almost the moment the words spilled from his lips, she'd loosed an arrow at the thing and had quickly drawn another from her quiver. The first shaft slid easily through the creature's ribcage to pierce its lungs and heart. Jacelyn doubted that hitting either vital organ would stop it, not when Lukas had gutted it and it still walked without pain, nor fear, nor any sign of recognition that proved it to be human. However, the impact did make the thing stagger, and it slowly turned, Lukas' taunts not enough to keep its murderous gaze from the ranger now that she'd attacked.

That slight shift was precisely the movement Jacelyn had been watching for. Her second arrow flew true, piercing one of the beast's glowing eyes and driving home deep into the thing's head. Again, she wasn't sure what harm it would do the beast, so she had a third arrow ready to fly an eyeblink after the first hit her target.
 
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Jacelyn’s first arrow staggered the creature and her second put it down; as the thing finally collapsed Lukas could see the strange light go out of its other eye. But the sellsword was taking no chances and after a quick glance at the doorway, he fell on the creature and slammed the iron bound edge of his shield into its neck as hard as he could; he didn’t know if the thing needed to breathe, but crushing its throat and breaking its spine seemed like it couldn’t hurt. As he clambered back to his feet Lukas noticed a small pendant hanging from the creature’s neck that he’d missed in all the excitement, but he didn’t waste any time looking at it just then; his right arm was still numb and though the ruins were now quiet, he had no idea if other foes were lurking inside.

The sellsword briefly though about dropping his shield and retrieving his sword but quickly discarded that notion; if there were more of these things about, his shield would be of much more use to him and the ranger. And if worse came to worst he still had his long knife, which he was more used to using in his left hand. As Lukas quickly moved back towards Jacelyn he called to her as calmly as he could.

“I think its fingernails were poisoned lass; I can’t feel my right hand.”

Once he got back to where the ranger stood the sellsword turned about to look at the ruins, positioning himself so that she could shoot around his right side if needs be. But no horde of creatures came rushing out at them and the hilltop stayed blessedly quiet. So after several moments Lukas did drop his shield and began squeezing on the slash that ran across the outside of his right elbow; the wound wasn’t terribly deep, but was still oozing blood.

“Best to keep this bleeding to get the poison out. Did you bring your water skin lass? Gods damn me for leaving mine on Paulus! But I do have some godsfoil in my pouch; can ya help me rub some o' the essence onto the wound?” The apothecaries all agreed the leaf’s oil fought contagion in a dirty wound and Lukas had seen that to be true, so he tried to always carry some with him wrapped in wax paper; he had no idea if it would work on whatever venom the creature must have used, but if the gods smiled on him it would. As he worked on his arm the sellsword tried to keep one eye on his surroundings and so far, everything remained as still as the creature now lying on its back near the barrack’s doorway …
 
Jacelyn didn't relax her bowstring until Lukas requested her help. Releasing the tension slowly, she placed both on the ground and moved to inspect his elbow. "This will hurt a moment," she told him, sliding her dagger from her belt.

Using the sharpened edge, she deepened the wound a fraction to cause it to bleed faster and flush the toxins from his system. After wiping her bloodied dagger on her sleeve and sheathing it once more, she searched through the pouch he'd indicated to retrieve the healing herbs. She kept her waterskin in the satchel at her hip and unplugged it with her teeth, pouring some of the water into the cupped palm of her hand before offering him the waterskin to hold. Using both hands, she began to soak and crush the godsfoil to release the oils within the thick leaves. As gently as she could, she pressed it into his bleeding wound, rubbing the herb along the tainted cut.

"What was that thing?" she asked quietly as she tended to his wound. Blue eyes flitted briefly to his face, brows drawn with confusion. Though she did glance at the creature upon the ground, she found she truly didn't wish to study it just then. Her stomach roiled and flipped about, loudly protesting their close proximity to something so abhorrent. Thankfully, the thing looked nothing like Lord Balan, so it couldn't be his corpse come back to life. But it had definitely been someone. "I've never seen anything like that... Have you?"
 
As Jacelyn worked on Lukas’ arm the damnedest thing happened. As she cut his wound open a bit more so it could bleed the poison out, he suddenly felt the pain as warmth returned to his limb and his fingers began tingling; his arm seemed to be returning to normal just as quickly as it had gone completely numb. “What kind of poison does that?” he wondered. Or had it been the ranger’s touch? As nice as that idea might have been he quickly dismissed it; this was real life not some fairy story, where a virgin Princess’ touch could work wonders. Though given the bizarre creature that had just attacked them, he was beginning to wonder about some of the old stories …

Even though his arm was no longer useless Lukas let Jacelyn continue on with using the godsfoil on his wound; the thing they’d killed had been filthy and also had the stench of the grave about it, so the sellsword imagined contagion would be a very real danger even if no poison was involved. As the ranger wrapped his elbow in some of the clean cloth he also had tucked in his belt pouch, Lukas kept his eyes on the ruins and tried to answer her questions.

“Neither have I lass, though …” Lukas hesitated, but decided to go on after remembering Jacelyn had just seen the creature like he did. “When I was in Rabia I heard parts o’ one of their sagas like, Five Hundred and Ten Nights it was called. And one o’ the stories was about these fallen angels, who’d been struck down from the heavens by a shooting star and turned into twisted devils; they were cursed so as to need dead flesh to survive after they’d fallen to earth.” The sellsword thought for a moment more. “Ghūls they were called, in the language of Rabia.” Lukas looked at Jacelyn seriously, then shrugged. “I’m not sayin’ I believe in fairy stories lass, but you done seen that thing. I rammed my sword into its belly three times an’ it was still standing. An’ even after you put an arrow into its chest, it still took another to its head to put it down. And did you see its eyes before they dimmed?” Lukas looked away and shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. Then he looked back at the ranger. “Very nice work with your bow by the way.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze with his right hand. “And a good job on my arm too.” He smiled his crooked smile. “Thanks lass.”

Lukas bent and picked up his shield, then drew his long knife with his right hand; his elbow felt a little tender, but he’d fought with wounds far worse in the past. “My arm seems fine now except for the cut, thank the gods. I’ve never heard o’ such a poison either. But if there are more of 'em, don’t let them near you lass; my armor might not be a knight’s, but it’s sight more than you’re wearin’. Stay behind me, an’ keep your bow handy.” Lukas looked towards the ruins.

“Now let’s go cut the fucker’s head off, to bring back to your Lord Mathis, an’ then see what all might be in its lair.” Lukas grinned. “And I want my sword back …” And with that he strode off towards the ruins, confident Jacelyn was with him, her bow at the ready …
 
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She nodded at his thanks, pleased that she'd been of some help. His wound was bound well enough. Though she didn't know what good the godsfoil might be against such poisons, it certainly couldn't hurt. Lifting her bow and arrow, the latter nocked and ready, she followed him without drawing. Not yet, at least. Drawing strained the muscles and only gave one a small advantage, so she saved the effort until it was absolutely necessary.

As they passed the creature upon the ground, she threw a glance at it and frowned. Normally, she'd retrieve her arrows from her kills to reuse those that hadn't been damaged. Something about the thing made her leave those particular arrows sunk into its body. If it had really poisoned the sellsword, perhaps its poison could spread other ways, as well. With that in mind, she didn't wish to touch those arrows unless she had no other choice.

"I've a torch if you need it," she said quietly to his back. She wasn't certain how dark it'd be inside or how much light filtered in through the vegetation. However, one of them would need to hold a torch, which would mean that she'd no longer be useful with her bow, or he'd have to somehow get his injured arm working enough to keep it aloft. Either way, it was a gamble. Better if they could simply let their eyes adjust to the gloom.

Even though the rotting man was dead out on the grass, the smell of decaying flesh lingered. She began breathing through her mouth once more, though felt bile rise into her throat as her stomach turned. It wasn't quite bad enough to make her gag, at least not yet, but she knew from experience that the smell would linger in her nose even when they'd escaped it. She kept her breaths shallow just the same.
 
Lukas asked Jacelyn to keep an eye on the door while he retrieved his long sword and hacked the thing’s head off with his knife; he wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to somehow stand back up, and also wanted the ranger to have something she could take back and show to Mathis. Even though he’d crushed its neck with his shield it was slow going, in part because its pale skin seemed as tough as leather. The stench coming off the creature was bad but now that it’d been put down the weird green glow was no longer coming from its one remaining eye; it just looked like some feral man. Once he’d severed its head he let it roll aside, intending to pick it up later on by the arrow still protruding from one of its eye sockets. Instead Lukas took up the pendant he’d spied earlier and examined it; it was covered in dirt and ichor, but clearly enough represented a worm turning upon itself to devour its own tail. Some of the gods used a serpent as one of their symbols, but he’d never seen its like before. He offered the pendant to the ranger by the odd black cord it dangled from; “Here you go lass. I dunno it this’s important, but you should take charge of it. We’ll come back for its head once we’re done.”

Before he stood Lukas also examined the creature’s fingernails. They now seemed quite normal if a bit long, and though they were crusted with dirt and blood he could detect no scent of poison coming from them. “Stranger and stranger” the sellsword thought as he got to his feet, sword back in his hand.

At the doorway to the ruins Lukas confirmed what he’d quickly spied before; parts of the ceiling and walls had fallen in and the inside was dim but not pitch black. “No need for a torch lass …” he said to Jacelyn “… but good thinkin’ bringin’ one along.” The interior of the barrack seemed quiet, so he quickly put together a plan. “In we go and stand fast by the door ‘til our eyes grow accustomed to the gloom. You ready?” The sellsword gave the ranger a moment to gather herself, then once again stepped through the doorway …

---

If the stench coming off the creature had been bad, the inside of the ruins was ten times worse; it smelled like an opened grave, which was basically what it was and there were flies everywhere. Nothing came rushing out of the darkness while their eyes adapted, but not gagging was still hard. Lukas was finally able to make out that the watchtower’s foundation was one room, split down the middle by a series of stone arches that supported the roof and the tower that had once stood upon it. Any fittings or fixtures had been looted ages ago and all that remained from the Imperials was a long stone trough that may have once held drinking water and a hearth that had gone cold centuries before. But the space they gazed upon was far from empty …

After prowling about a bit it looked as if four dismembered corpses were strewn about the room; they only found three skulls, but the four rib cages was what made Lukas think it was actually four. It may have been two men, one woman and a child of some sort, though there was no real way to tell beyond the size of the bones scattered around. They all seemed to have been recently pulled from the grave, since the only clothing they came across was the wrappings commonly used for burial shrouds; there was no fine cloth like Isolde or Lord Balan had probably been wearing, or any boiled leather such as what probably had protected the guards. But the worst part by far was the state of the bones they found; almost all the flesh had been gnawed from them and given the bloated belly of the creature they’d just slain, Lukas somehow doubted it was rats who’d feasted on the dead …

---

Back outside Lukas spat on the ground twice to try to clean his mouth, then looked at Jacelyn. “Well lass you’d know better than me, but I don’t think any o’ those poor people were Isolde or Balan; I done think we found our ‘grave robber.’ Which doesn’t help us all that much I guess, though somethin’ tells me this thing bein’ here weren’t no coincidence.” Lukas sheathed his sword then bent to pick up the creature’s head by the arrow that was still wedged into the back of its skull. “We’ll put this in a sack once we get back down to the horses.” The sellsword shrugged. “I’m not sure what we should do next. Look for the carriage? Try ta figure out what that pendant might mean?” Then he grinned. “But at least the two of us are still standing, and can look forward to some ale this evening …”

---Images---

The pendant the creature had been wearing, cleaned up some.
 
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Jacelyn was reluctant to even touch the pendant he'd pulled from the corpse. Rather than tuck it into her bag or pocket, she looped it about the strap of her satchel and scrubbed her fingers on her cloak to rid herself of the invisible taint from that brief bit of contact. Before she ventured inside the tower after Lukas, she wrapped her neck scarf about her face twice over to dampen the stench coming from within. Though it did very little without something stronger to overpower the smell, it did provide something of a buffer while she breathed through her mouth.

Her bow remained at the ready as they let their eyes adjust, strung and pulled taut to release at the slightest noise. If a rat had skittered by, Jacelyn would have likely shot the thing first before investigating. As soon as they deemed there was no threat, she relaxed her arm and began to scout the room. As Lukas surmised, the bodies she saw were old, long dead, and likely looted from the cemetery. She saw nothing of Isolde or Lord Balan among the corpses or personal effects that had once belonged to the dead. It was a true relief. Isolde was not among the dead, at least not those in the tower, which gave her a small amount of hope. Perhaps someone had set this creature here to feed, but whisked Isolde and her beau elsewhere. Perhaps the Lord and his bride-to-be discovered this foul creature and fled along with their guards. It could explain why they'd left with such haste without speaking with the caretaker on the way back.

Whatever the case, she was glad to step outside into the sunshine and slight breeze that swept up the hill. After stepping several paces away from the tower, she unwrapped her face and tucked the ends of her scarf back into her tunic. As predicted, the smelled stayed with her, but she turned toward the wind in hopes that it would sweep the foulness away. Her gaze turned back to the hill below them and the cemetery beyond. She'd seen nothing of the beast's shambling footsteps, but then she'd not scouted the entirety of the hillside. There were other trails and paths leading up and down.

Glancing back to the sellsword, she shook her head. "Best give that head to the caretaker and have him gather a small band of locals to scour this place for those that were taken from their graves and return them to their rest. With that head for proof, he could rally a small force to ensure that no other threat remains. Did you see it fall after I pierced it through the eye? That would be useful information for them to have, as well. Slicing through the gut does nothing, nor does an ordinary shot to the lungs or heart. Perhaps slicing off its head would prove deadly, if you could get close enough without getting caught by those claws."

"In any case, we aren't returning to Mathis. Not yet. He'd have no interest in that creature's head. He wants his daughter or proof of her passing. If she's run befoul of some creature, I mean to bring back her body if I can, and something of hers if I cannot. He will not be satisfied until his daughter is home or there is absolutely no doubt that she's dead."

"My concern at this juncture is what happened to them when they reached the top of the hill. Their tracks lead them to this place, but I saw none of them leaving. I saw nothing of their companions' tracks retracing their steps, either. I need to scout the rest of this area to be certain."
 
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Lukas scratched his beard as he thought about all the ranger had just said and then replied to her. “Well now lass, it’s a fact the thing went down after you done shot it in the eye; most things do. But I wouldn’t discount the other damage we did it either. The arrow you put into its chest staggered it, and it was moving a lot faster before I gutted it. So I’m thinkin’ it was really, really tough but not invulnerable like.” The sellsword glanced over at the creature’s stinking remains. “An’ if’n I had to do it all over again I’d probably go for its knees, an’ try to take its legs out from under it.” He looked back at Jacelyn and grinned. “So’s you could use if for target practice, all leisurely like.” The sellsword’s grin broadened. “Though cuttin’ its head off would probably work too.”

Lukas’ face clouded over as he went on. “But aye, its fingers are also strange. Even though it was clawin’ at my hauberk its nails don’t look broken now; how could that be? And I can’t find no trace o’ whatever poison it used on me, if’n it was a poison.” The sellsword shook his head. “The whole thing is passing strange. And I agree with ye we should let the caretaker know. But I can think of a few other folks besides Mathis we need to talk to about this thing, whatever it was. An’ that pendant too.”

Then Lukas sighed. “But yer right that we still don’t know what happened to Isolde an’ the rest o’ them. An’ that’s the job.” He looked up at the sun high in the sky, then back at the ranger. “Plenty o’ daylight left, so we might as well get on with it.” The sellsword gazed around him; through gaps in the trees on the hilltop he could see the mountains to the east and also make out Sinclaire and the Black Forest to the south, and had to imagine the old watchtower had been well sited to do what it had been built to do. But that had been the Imperials for you. “So which way lass? I’ll trail behind you as quiet as I can, like before.” As more sweat trickled down the small of his broad back, Lukas cheered himself by thinking of how good the first ale that evening was going to taste …
 
"Aye, most things go down if you stick 'em in the eye," she agreed quietly.

Leaning on her long bow, her eyes skated over the clearing in silent search of a starting point. The ground outside the tower was hard earth, packed hard from decades of patrols, and any prints that might have been there had been obliterated in their scuffle. She took a moment to wonder what the land might have been like centuries ago when all the lands belonged to the great empire. What threats did they face? What enemies plagued them? Why was the tower built in the first place and by whom?

While the vista was unparalleled and allowed an unbroken view for miles, Jacelyn's attention didn't linger for long. She moved away from the tower and into the trees, pausing now and then to examine the signs farther out. There, where the grasses grew taller and a layer of dead leaves covered the ground, she found what she sought. The scrape of something against the bark, trampled grass, a shallow trench cut through the leaves and dirt beneath.

Further down, on the leeward side of the hill, there were other signs that did no bode well for Lord Balan's party. She crouched, ripping free a clump of foliage that had been stained with streaks of darkness. Crimson flakes scattered upon her pale skin as she brushed it across her fingers.

With a frown, she stood and tossed it away, eyes narrowing as she scanned the remaining area. "Someone bled here. More than one, I'd wager." She threw Lukas a worried glance. "Though not so much as to indicate a slaughter. There are two paths. One leads down into the forest toward the river, I suspect. The other back around the hill to the caretaker's cottage and the carriage. I'm of a mind to follow the latter and see where that carriage went."
 
Lukas frowned when Jacelyn found the foliage covered with blood. “Well lass, it’s lookin’ less and less as if that grave robber creature bein’ here was some sort o’ coincidence. But how it might’ve featured in Isolde and Balan goin’ missin’, or even better why is still a mystery.” The big sellsword shook his head. “I’ve no bright ideas on either score, though I am thinkin’ there’s someone who might be able to help us with what that thing was at least.” He paused for a moment, looked up at the sky before he went on. “But as you said, the job is to find Isolde. An’ the last thing she was seen doin’ was ridin’ about in a carriage, so trackin’ that down first makes sense ta me. There’s enough time to come back an’ follow the other trail towards the river later.”

The big sellsword gestured at the path which seemed to wind down and around the hilltop back towards the cemetery and the last place the carriage was seen, then he continued trailing the ranger after she’d set off scouting. As they moved along Lukas mulled over everything they’d discovered so far and kept coming back to the idea that Isolde and Balan had somehow been taken here on the hill. But having suspicions about what may have happened didn’t tell him who did it, or how and why, and more importantly didn’t help answer the question of where Isolde might be now. So the only thing left to do for the moment was trudge around the hill and hope the ranger could find some sign that would help make things clearer.

As they neared the base of the hill the underbrush grew thicker and their progress got slower. But Lukas was hopeful all the extra greenery would provide Jacelyn with further clues as to what may have happened. Then, when they were almost to the base of the hilltop and still well east of the cemetery, he glimpsed a clue all on his own through the trees; the unmistakably regular shape of a carriage or wagon, sitting in the brush just below them for some reason. He couldn’t see any horses, or people for that matter either and everything seemed quiet. Still he called out to the ranger as softly as he could and after she’d halted, he moved up beside her and pointed in the direction of the vehicle as he whispered. “Ya see it lass? Does it look like Balan’s? Probably worth a look regardless, eh?” Anticipating Jacelyn’s answer, Lukas again slid his longsword from its scabbard as quietly as he could …
 
More blood and footprints. Jacelyn saw traces of both as they made their way to the carriage, which did not bode well. She kept an arrow at the ready and threw several glances at Lukas as they crept through the trees. The ranger's clothing helped her to almost disappear into the thick foliage. During their approach, her gaze flitted about the forest, wisely glancing up into the trees every so often. With her keen eye, she saw several places in which she would have chosen to hide had she been readying an ambush. The trees were empty, however, and the presence of songbirds told them that there was nothing amiss. That, or someone had been sitting still for so long that the birds had forgotten about them.

The ranger paused just beyond the carriage, eyes scanning the area, but she could discern nothing out of place. Nothing except the faint hint of decay. Her heart sank as she finally turned her gaze to the conveyance. The ebon wood had been polished to a high shine and decorated with gilded trim. It was now terribly scratched where it'd been pulled off trail between the trees. Someone had pushed it off a shallow ravine where it'd hit several trees before finally crashing to a halt. If they'd been upon the footpath, they wouldn't have seen it at all. One of the axles had sheared completely in half, which had thrown the entire thing on its side. She didn't need to see the crest painted upon the door to know the carriage belonged to Lord Balan.

Swinging over the edge of the cliffs, she quickly slid down the incline to the downed carriage and hopped up onto the frame to climb atop it. She had her bow taut as she eased over the carriage window to peer inside. What she found was both a relief and extremely disturbing.

"Dead," she announced. "Balan's guards -- two of them. No signs of anyone else." She peered down at Lukas from her higher vantage. "This is where the other trail ends. You want to have a look before we venture down the other path?"
 
“Aye lass” Lukas replied. “Why don’t you keep watch from your perch while I take a look.” The big sellsword sheathed his sword and clambered down into the ravine; after he put his shield aside he then climbed up onto the side of the ruined carriage nimbly enough and peered in at the dead guardsmen for a few moments. Then Lukas hauled one door open, reached inside and shifted the corpses around some; after looking at them a bit more he leaned back and quietly spoke to Jacelyn.

“So my guess is these two were carryin’ spears; no sword scabbards on their belts, just empty dagger sheaths. O’ course they could a’ been wearin’ separate sword belts or baldrics that were taken.” The sellsword shrugged. “No wounds in their backs so they both put up a fight, which’s to their credit.” He looked down at the dead men. “Hopefully Mares saw that. But the wounds on their arms and heads? If we hadn’t a seen that creature I would’a said those gashes were from some wild beast, but now …” Lukas shrugged again. “So they were probably taken unawares, before they could take arms maybe an’ the creature poisoned ‘em worse than me, an’ down they went …” He scratched at his beard as he thought for a few moments more. “But then they got their throats cut; that’s the only fatal wound on either o’ the bodies. An’ it don’t look like they’ve been … well, fed on either. So it seems it weren’t the creature that killed ‘em in the end, or stuck ‘em back in this here carriage, an’ then pushed the carriage into this ravine.” The sellsword shook his head. “So who did? My guess is whoever went down that other trail, probably with Isolde an’ Balan in their hands, an’ that maid you mentioned before too.”

After a deep sigh Lukas clambered down off the carriage, retrieved his shield and then hauled himself back up the side of the ravine, using tree roots as hand and footholds. On high ground once again he got his equipment settled and then took a moment to get some cool air on his head. As he did he looked at Jacelyn and gave her one of his crooked smiles. “Under other circumstances, strollin’ about this hill all afternoon with a pretty gal might o’ been fun. But all things considered, well … but a deals a deal, an’ at least I feel like I’m earnin’ my pay.” Then he put his cap, coif and helmet back on and gestured over at the way they’d come. “After you lass.”
 
Jacelyn stood atop the carriage with her bow at the ready, scanning the forest as she turned slowly. She glanced back once to watch Lukas climb aboard, surprised by the larger man's nimbleness. She was curious to see his fighting style. He looked the part of the brute, but seemed nimble and quick enough on his feet. I wonder if he's got a paunch beneath that armor of his or if he keeps himself lean and in fighting shape. The thought of him naked distracted her for a moment, and she quickly had to shove that notion aside so she could keep watch while he examined the bodies.

Hearing Lukas verify her opinion of the guards' death gave her further insight to his intellect. He could read the signs of blood and death well enough, likely having caused many such wounds in his lifetime to recognize them. Their discovery offered more questions than answers. How had they been caught unaware? Who was able to best two trained guardsmen? Why had someone tried to hide the bodies instead of leaving them on the hill? And how did the creature they find play into these events?

Despite the questions, she nodded to his supposition. "Aye, let us try the other trail. As there's no sign of them here, I hope that the other path might yield better fruit."

She wasn't the least bit winded after climbing back up the steep incline, though sweat did fleck her forehead, which she wiped away with a sleeve. As they started back toward the other path she'd seen, the ranger tossed him a sidelong glance. "Climbing hills is something you find enjoyable when in the company of women?" she asked teasingly. "I thought there'd be other things, better things, that could occupy your time." A slight arch of her brow told him exactly what she was referring to.
 
The sellsword raised his brows after Jacelyn voiced her bold suggestion and the look of surprise on Lukas’ face was unmistakable. Not that he was upset by it mind, but he’d been flirting with the comely ranger partly out of habit and hadn’t really expected her to ever respond so … encouragingly, especially when they were still on the trail; she’d seemed far too focused for that. And while the sellsword knew he was skilled enough in Mares’ arts and not exactly ugly, he also knew what he did for a living was ugly, and that he looked more the brute than some pampered knight. But Lukas wasn’t about to tell her all that, and so tried to roll with … well, not a punch exactly, but something that had struck him nonetheless; he pulled his features back to what passed for normal, and tried to answer her as coolly as he could.

“Well now lass, as usual you have the right of it. Besides tromping o’er hill an’ dale, another thing that might be fun to do with a pretty woman, outdoors on a fair day such as this is … compose poetry o’ course.” The sellsword’s features were again calm and controlled, though there was also a twinkle in his eye and the hint of a shite eating grin on his face when he spoke to the ranger. “What, you don’t believe me? I’ll have you know that besides learnin’ my letters, at the monastery they done taught me to do poetry too. Not that it was my specialty exactly … (“The gods know that” laughed Mikael in his head) … but I did alright enough at it.”

As they walked back towards where the trails had split Lukas thought about the woman walking beside him. Besides being as fair as a spring day after it'd rained, she’d proven to be quick as a whip while discussin’ business or scoutin’ about, and was as good with her bow as any archer he’d ever seen. An’ she could be full o’ sass too, just like a few moments ago, but had also been oddly shy when they was talking to the Master mason. “Think you idiot, think …” the sellsword told himself, as they got closer to where the ranger would have to resume her tracking. (“Didn’t I tell you that for years my friend …”)

Far sooner than he would have liked they reached the point where the trails had diverged; it was now or never. So Lukas paused and then spoke up: “Hold up lass, before ye begin trackin’ again. It’s just come ta me.” And then, looking quite serious, he recited the short poem he’d just composed for the ranger. Once he was done he held his breath and just looked at her, his face as calm as he could make it; facing death was one thing, and something he was used to, but embarrassment? As he awaited his fate his brother tried to comfort him; “Well done effendi; at least you tried.”

Her eyes were as piercing, as arrows from a bow.

And could also be cold, like new fallen snow.

Within her breast, was there a heart that beat warm?

That he'd know, only when he took her in his arms.
 
"Poetry?" She barked a laugh at that, lips twitching in amusement. She threw the sellsword a glance to see if he was joking, and just shook her head as she saw that same unreadable, jovial expression on his face. She couldn't imagine someone like him composing poetry for a woman. He seemed the type to simply pin one to a wall and make them swoon with hands and lips. Still, as she hardly knew him, she supposed she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

Her attention went back to the forest as they walked, shifting back to the signs they followed in search of any she'd missed. Isolde was missing, and that was a serious development, but Jacelyn found that she was still enjoying Lukas' company more than she really should given the circumstances. He'd certainly lived up to the coin she'd given him thus far, clearing the tower first and putting himself in danger in the process. She hadn't missed his trust in her shooting abilities, either, even though he'd not seen them for himself. He'd simply observed her, decided she was competent, and then trusted her enough to protect him when he needed it. For once, she was glad of Mathis' stubbornness. He'd been the one to insist she elicit help from the merchant mercenary pool, even when she'd argued that she'd be better working alone.

Gods, what would I have done if I'd been caught alone with that creature in the tower? If it had attacked and poisoned me before I could kill it? Of course, she likely wouldn't have gone into the tower in the first place -- not without lighting a torch and tossing it inside. Still, she shuddered to think what might have happened if she'd met the beast without Lukas' sword to weaken it for the killing.

At the trail head, she paused at his request and gave him her full attention as he, indeed, recited his poetry. Not only was she impressed that he'd made it up on the spot, but she was also slightly flattered that he'd made up a poem about her. She stared at him for several moments after he'd finished his brief piece, head tilted in silent speculation. Her eyes, which he found quite piercing, stared at him with an intensity that seemed to gave into his very soul. After a few heartbeats, surely no more than that, though of long enough duration for a man to feel as though he were drowning, she quirked a brow. Her lips twitched upward in the smallest of ways in a smile so brief that it made one wonder if it had ever existed at all.

"Mayhaps," she finally said, staying the arrow that would have surely pierced his heart had she been displeased. "Mayhaps we shall see."

Finally releasing him from those striking blue hues, she turned back to the trail and began to follow the signs along the way. However, she couldn't keep herself from glancing at him from time to time.
 
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