Why does nothing good last?
I spent the afternoon with Robyn. She's getting better at climbing, probably rival Milada soon. I gave her her new suit of Chainmail, too. It's about time she had her own. We talked a lot, as well. She wants me to show her Damlans grave. I will. One Day.
Once the sun touched the town wall, she headed back to Lady Hughes' estate. I'm eternally grateful to Dieudonnae for letting her stay there. My room in the Comb and Wattle Inn just doesn't compare.
I ran into Rhianonn outside the Prancing Pony, after that. We stepped inside, had a drink, made small talk.
Then I saw him, sitting across the room, next to the fire.
The IMAGE of Bucta.
He could only be one person.
I fear surprise was written across my face, and that he noticed it.
Quincell looked at me.
I rose from my chair, intending to find Bucta and confront Quincell, but I never made it to the door.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see him standing behind me, his face blank, his eyes on fire.
"Could you assist me with something in the back rooms, please?" he requested of me. Unwilling to walk away and miss the chance to either bring the boy home....or eliminate him as a threat...I accepted, my hand discreetly straying towards the hilt of my sword.
We progressed down the hallway, into one of the bedrooms, my eyes on his back the entire time.
"What are we doing down here?" I asked, carefully.
"I lost a ring in here. I intend to propose to a girl, and I need it back."
I knew then he was lying to me, for his face and voice were as blank and emotionless as mine own before I met Robyn. No soon-to-be-married youngster would be so nonchalant about his own marriage.
I ducked, looking under the nearby bed, one eye still on Quincell.
He moved.
Towards the door.
It swung closed with his push, quietly, but I was watching him.
I stuck my foot out, catching the door before it could fully close.
Quincell dropped all pretense.
"Did you think I wouldn't find you?" He snarled, reaching for his weapon.
I flicked my foot, sending the door back open, causing it to crash into his face. I heard bones crack.
I drew my own sword to match his. I tried to tell him, tried to explain that I wasn't Bucta, as he had presumably mistaken me for his father, but all I managed was "I'm-" before he attacked, twirling his sword like a madman.
I rolled to the side, coming up behind him and spinning away, bringing my sword round in a wide arc towards his chest, forcing him to duck.
Then my worst nightmare came true.
"Uncle!"
I looked towards the voice and my heart jumped into my throat. Robynwen stood in the doorway, watching me fight for my life against this young boy. I could tell the lad wouldn't stand down, so there was only two ways one of us would walk out of this room.
both ways involved the death of the other.
And Robynwen was watching.
"Run, Robyn! Get help!" I cried, mainly to get her out of the immediate area. I did not want her to witness murder, but also, at the back of my mind, I still believed that with superior numbers, we could prevent Quincell from throwing his life away.
Quincell took advantage of my being distracted, fearing for my Nieces safety. He swept my legs out from under me, and I fell badly, my head slamming against the wooden floor. I saw stars, but managed to roll out of the way as he followed through with a downward stab.
I evaded most of his attacks from then on, throwing in a few of my own, but largely keeping my distance. 'twas this that allowed me to lift my sword clear of any conflict when Robyn returned, Bucta in tow.
I was relieved, letting my guard down.
And then he struck.
Quincell tackled me, my back slamming against the wall. My knees came up in a reflex action and my shiv sewn to my kneepad entered his ribcage.
It was a disastrous moment. The shiv is attached in such a way that while the leg is straight, the blade is parallel to it, but attached just below the knee so when the leg bends, the blade is perpendicular to the upper leg. It makes knee strikes potentially fatal.
And this one was.
The blade slipped between two of the boys ribs, puncturing his lung.
I feel that Bucta saw it in slow motion, his son staggering back, his hands covered in blood, me dragging myself to my feet near the door....
He charged into the room, shoving me into the corner where I fell to the ground, dazed. Quincell fell to the ground, and Bucta knelt next to him, Quincells head in his fathers lap.
I pulled myself to my feet again, staggering out of the room into Robyns arms. I hugged her tightly, relieved she was safe, distressed that she saw that final blow, standing between her and the dying boy to prevent her from seeing him.
After granting Bucta and his son some privacy, I re-entered the room, kneeling down opposite Bucta. We sat there in silence, Him cradling his dead sons head, me looking down at the floor.
He raised his head, his eyes meeting mine.
"YOU.....YOU KILLED HIM!" he yelled at me.
"No....I tried to tell him...." I said, my voice cracking.
"Then why is he DEAD?" Roared Bucta.
I pulled the blade off my kneepad and presented it to him.
He moaned in distress.
"I will KILL You!" he said.
I stood there, arms out either side, the blade on the floor at his feet.
"Do what you will" I said.
He picked up the blade, burying it up to the hilt in my shoulder.
I grimaced, moaning in pain as Bucta stormed out through the door, leaving his sons body on the floor.
I looked at Robyn and I can safely say that I have never felt happier to be alive than that moment.
