I was not content to leave Bree-land without giving Hughes a proper goodbye, so I returned, with a supply of flammable liquid, and went to her estate.
When I arrived on the scene, I found Milada and Hector Worthenine fighting brutally. From what I could see, the experienced mercenary was beating her down, forcing her to submit to his commanders will. I found my way to the rooftop opposite the Hughes estate, where I took up position with my bow. Ere I was prepared, to my great disappointment, Milada finally submitted, agreeing to ally herself with the Lady Hughes. In anger, I began firing my arrows, but few found their mark. Milada fled, but Worthenine remained, and I eventually made my way to the street, where I fought him for a great length of time, seemingly at a stalemate. However, I eventually gained the upper hand, luring him into the mansion and shooting him with two arrows as he passed through the bottleneck that was the door. However, reinforcements arrived at that moment, and I was forced to flee, barricading the door as I did so.
I then proceeded with what I came to do, pouring pitch over the mansion and setting it alight with a flaming arrow. I knew this would draw Hughes to me like a moth to a flame - pun intended - and i settled down to eliminate her when she arrived.
She was there before long, distraught at the loss of her belongings, as Hector Worthenine had somehow escaped.
And then it started to go south.
A bush shook opposite the mansion, and when Hughes went over to it, she dragged my niece into the street.
Robynwen had followed me.
This was a disaster, and my heart was in my throat. I shouted down to the Lady Hughes, getting her attention and dropping into the street myself.
"Let her go!" I demanded, as Hughes pressed a dagger to Robyn's neck.
And then she hurt her.
Dieudonnae dragged her dagger down Robynwens face, leaving a jagged and bloody scar. I screamed in emotional pain and anguish, my shout mingling with that of my niece. I dragged Hughes away from Robyn, taking several hits myself, but I did not care. As long as Robyn got away, it would be worth it.
And she did.
I carried her to a horse, hurriedly tearing off a strip of my clothing and binding the wound. I would wash it later, on the road, when we had escaped.
Together, we fled Bree, having dealt a crippling blow to Dieudonnae Hughes.
