There was a muted thud, and another a few seconds later, followed by a crash coming from somewhere in the building.
That will be Connwear and the savages making their entrance. More than enough to draw attention to themselves.
Ameren quickened her pace a little as she lead Havaldr and the hillman through the narrow, dark passage and put the lantern down when they reached the door at the end of it. When she didn't hear anything on the other side of it she slipped a pair of picks into the lock and started turning it, assuming that everyone nearby had gone to examine the crash, and it was as much of a surprise for her to see a man in arms and armour in front of her the next moment as it was for him to see the wall swing open and Ameren spring up on him, dropping the picks and drawing steel. The floor quickly became drenched in crimson and the man's corpse slumped down silently, deep knife wounds in his gut and shoulder, his throat slit, and Ameren switched the knife for her sword while making her way through the empty hallway. Behind her Havaldr and the hillman had emerged from the passage, and from further back came the faint sound of fighting, barely audible, even less so when she reached the end of the hall and came near the grand staircase leading to the first and third floor. Around the corner from where Ameren had stopped to keep herself out of sight, four men wearing similar armour to the one she had just killed stood and watched the commotion on the first floor, where more men like them, no doubt Seldorien's thugs, and men of the garrison were shouting about a fire, the one Connwear had started in the tunnels below the estate. Their backs were turned, but they were in plain view of the staircase and the lower floor. There was plenty of noise from above as well, but Ameren couldn't quite make out what was going on up there.
One step at the time, these four need to be dealt with. Let's see if we can't get them to come over.
She turned back toward the hall, sheathing the sword again and signalling for Havaldr to get back as she walked over to one of the metal floor candelabras that lined the room and picked it up. But pain seared through her injured arm and shoulder when Ameren went to throw the heavy object onto the stone floor and it slipped out of her grasp, hitting the carpet instead with a muffled clank and scattering burning candles all over.
Well, that's just brilliant... really, bravo.
It worked though, two of the thugs came running and the first around the corner staggered sideways with a hand pressed against the base of his neck after Ameren's sword slashed a deep gash in it, giving her some space to send his ally tumbling forward with a well aimed kick. The man sprawled on his face onto the burning carpet and screamed as the fire licked his skin, alerting the other two, only to be struck down by a pair of lead bullets slung by the hillman when he tried to push himself up again. As the next two came around the corner Ameren had impaled the first thug on her blades and dragged him around by them to place his body between herself and his allies, using the thug as a shield to evade the first attacks before pulling her weapons loose and kicking him toward the others. She followed and was right on top of the pair when they sidestepped around their wounded ally, slashing open the throat of one of them and leaving the other nearly headless, both hitting the floor at the same time. The wounded man was kneeling in front of Ameren, weakly clutching at the deep cuts in his torso, and made no attempt to move when she calmly placed her blades crossed against his throat, his body going limp as his head was lopped off.
"Nice work..."
Connwear had come from the other end of the hall, his two hillmen following, and was now striding over to her, smirking and seeming to be enjoying himself.
It doesn't look like he's been hurt in the fighting. The savages have seen better days, though.
Both hillmen appeared to have taken a great deal of blunt trauma to the head, their noses cracked and their faces bruised and bloodied.
"Mind if I add the head to my collection?" asked Connwear and raised the shoulder he kept a bloodstained sack slung over. Behind him the last of the thugs was thrashing around in panic on the floor, his clothes having caught fire.
Gathering up the heads? Clever man. Fear is a powerful tool and may spare us some trouble up ahead.
"Go ahead," replied Ameren and walked over to the panicked man, pushing the blade of her sword through his neck before going to stamp out the fire.
"Got a little hot, did it?" joked Connwear, still smiling, picked up the head and stuffed it into the sack.
"Damn candle holder slipped..." mumbled Ameren and frowned.
She had gotten a wound in the left shoulder during the skirmish that needed to be bound, and while she saw to that Connwear walked over to Havaldr and tossed the bag with heads over to him.
"Make yourself useful, lad. Carry that for us, eh?"
For some reason Havaldr decided to open the bag and peek inside, immediately dropping it and turning to throw up.
"Bloody hell, lad! It's only a few severed heads! By the time this night is over, you'll have seen a lot worse," said Connwear with a savage grin.
"You're insane. I'm not carrying those heads anywhere unless there is a remotely tangible advantage in taking them with us instead of hiding them," protested Havaldr, spitting sick and wiping his mouth with a cloth. Connwear went on to educate Havaldr on how easy it is to kill an enemy that's running away in fear and they started to argue about who was to carry the sack, Havaldr insisting that he'd be a sick splattered ghost before long, and Connwear pointing out that he would do a better job fighting without the extra weight. When Ameren came over to them after having retrieved the head of the nearly headless corpse Havaldr threw up again, prompting Connwear to continue shouldering his growing collection, though he was aggravated and growling at that point. Ameren went back ahead to asses the situation near the stairs, standing pressed against the wall and peering around the corner with a hand on the hilt of her knife, idly fiddling with it.
The fire is turning out to be a good diversion. But I'm not liking how quiet it is up above...
Six men had come down to stand evenly placed along the sides of the stair leading to to third floor, where it had gone silent. They watched the commotion on the first floor warily, wearing hard expressions and having their weapons ready, the top pair even had a loaded crossbow each.
Fucking hate crossbows. It's a bit of a sprint up there, but maybe I can make it most of the way before they fire... And here comes the Marshal, just in time.
Levain had an officer at each flank, all of them wearing heavy armour over their uniforms, and they walked right up the stairs from the first floor and got halfway before one of Seldorien's thugs stopped them, the two men arguing with each other.
"We've taken too long, they're prepared for us above. Even if they haven't quite figured out what's going on yet, they're ready for trouble. It's looks like we're going to have to carve our way up there," mumbled Ameren silently to the others, glancing back at them. Connwear smiled savagely at her, evidently looking forward to it, but Havaldr remained pale.
"I'm still feeling sick... we'd better find something to eat or drink before we talk to the Lord, if we get that far."
"Something to eat or drink... Is he being serious?" whispered Ameren with a raised brow.
"Shut the fuck up," hissed Connwear at Havaldr and scowled, impatiently twirling his sword while Havaldr made a silent remark about the man's charisma.
"I'll get the archers, you go for the two at the bottom of the stairs, keep the hillmen close to help you. The Marshal will join when he sees fighting," said Ameren silently to Connwear, pulling one of the balanced twin daggers from her boot as he shrugged the sack from his shoulder and opened it.
"A few heads in there maybe?" suggested Connwear with a raised brow, giving her fist pick.
"Good thinking."
"How loudly do we want to announce our presence?"
"Keep it quick and quiet, if you can. I'd rather not have more of them coming down on us."
Ameren adjusted her grip on the dagger and clutched the severed head close to her body, taking a deep breath before pushing off and darting toward the stairs.
A present. Enjoy.
The head was thrown into the arms of the first man she passed, who instinctively caught it and then gave a horrified cry the next moment when he realised what he was holding, dropping it and stumbling backwards to get away. By then Ameren was already nearing the top of the stairs, drawing new weapons after having flung the dagger into the chest of one of the archers and causing him to fire the bolt into the ceiling, and ducked sideways when the second archer took aim on her. The bolt narrowly missed its quick-moving target, as did the sword thrust coming from behind, and Ameren closed the gap between her and the second archer, slashing his chest and throat open before he had a chance to draw his blade, and kicked him down the steps into the thug following her. She then turned her attention back to the first archer, his crossbow having been thrown aside and replaced by a sword, parried his attacks with ease, poked him full of deep holes and sent him down the stairs as well to be put out of his misery by Levain.
And we're all still alive. Well, mostly. Looks like we're leaving another of our dear savages behind.
The other thugs had been swiftly dealt with, their corpses scattered on the stairs, but one of the hillmen had been badly wounded as well, his hand clamped over a deep cut in his neck that gushed blood. Connwear had come up to the top, stopping near Ameren, and was followed by the Marshal and his officers, all of them still unharmed.
"You did say there would be blood, lovely crazy woman. Looks like you were right. No time to lose, we press on," said Levain as he passed them.
"Y'know... I might just be starting to like him," said Connwear as the Marshal's comment had caused him to smile all the wider, then looked over Ameren. "You all right?"
"Aye, I'm fine," replied Ameren, wiping her blades clean and eyeing their edges. "And the Marshal certainly has his uses, even if he is a narcissistic swine."
Havaldr helped the hillman back to the hallway before joining them, taking the sack of heads with him at Connwear's behest and tossing it over as soon as he could, and they continued further into the estate at a brisk pace.
Ah, shit...
The large, open hall on the third floor was crawling with Seldorien's thugs, Ameren counted twenty of them in total, the six on the right side of the room being charged by Levain and his officers.
"We need to get the others in as fast as we can!" called Ameren over her shoulder, not sparing a second before sprinting past the soldiers toward the corner where the hidden door was suppose to be, and hopefully three more officers behind it, hearing Havaldr gasp and Connwear laughing loudly at the sight of all the men set to kill them. The unfortunate man who had been in her way fell before he knew what was going on, he'd barely had time to raise his weapons before she was on him and cut his throat. Another came running from the left and got a dagger to the chest for his troubles, briefly stopped in his tracks.
Find the bolts, get them open, and deal with the lock. The lads won't last long against these odds.
As if it needed to be emphasised, Ameren heard Connwear roar an angry battle-cry upon being wounded while she traced the cracks in the stone wall with her fingers, luckily finding the bolts in an instant and prying them open.
Hang in there, lads. Help's coming.
She then quickly kneeled next to the wall and slipped picks into the lock, turning her head a little to keep the melee behind her in sight and listening for the soft clicks of gears moving. Havaldr was keeping himself out of the fighting, looking an awful lot like a frightened lamb in a pit of ravenous wolves where he hid behind the hillman, but Connwear was quite in his element, already having killed one man and now twisting out of the way of his next opponent's quick thrusts, responding with swift and savage slashes of his own. The hillman appeared to be standing his ground well, for a few moments at least, then his head was taken clean off when the pair he was fighting both brought their swords down on his neck. That was when the lock gave in and Ameren could pull the door open, letting the officers rush past her to engage the thugs on the left that were almost upon them. She drew her weapons again and started to follow, only to halt for half a step when Connwear gave another roar in pain and then continue as she saw him cut down his opponent nonetheless.
They'll hold, go where you can be of the most use.
So she joined the officers she'd let in, swiftly getting in between them after they had taken the first wave of attacks and sinking her steels deep into the guts of the two thugs closest to her. Ameren twisted the blades and tore them out as the men wailed in agony, dropping down in a crouch to dodge their attacks and sending a sweeping kick along the floor, toppling them. Their nearby allies cried out in anger and horror when she sunk sword and dagger into the fallen men's abdomens and swiftly stepped forward, cutting them open gut to neck and displaying their innards.
"And here we have the power that fear holds, children."
It had been a nasty lesson to witness and learn, but one that had proved to be very useful over the years, and tonight was no exception. Two of the remaining thugs hesitated, cautiously stepping backward, only one of their allies daring to move to fight her. He brought his weapons around to slash at Ameren's leg and side, the first strike swept aside but the second getting through as Connwear bellowed another pained roar and caused her to flick her gaze back toward him. She growled through gritted teeth when the blade cut through her armour and into her flesh, leaving a gash in her side just under the ribs.
He's fine, that was just a flesh wound. He can take it.
Connwear had grabbed the thug who swiped at his back and pulled him close, slashed his sword down the inside of the man's leg and then sunk his teeth into his nose, the man howling in horror and pain.
See? All it did was make him angrier. You must focus.
The thug who had cut her was lighter and quicker than the others, but Ameren was quicker still and got her blades past his defences as she rushed at him, driving them through his chest and forcing the man to his knees, where she finished him with a swift slash to the throat. The officers pushed past her, striking down another of the thugs and herding the last four in their part of the hall into a corner. It didn't take long before another pair has been killed and the remaining two dropped their weapons and fell to their knees to surrender, being wounded, cornered, and quite frightened after the vicious fight, upon which Ameren walked over to them, kicked their weapons aside and then struck down at their necks without a word. From the other side of the hall came a sickening crunch, followed by a weak gurgle, the sound of metal striking metal and then tearing flesh, and a body hitting the floor as Connwear dispatches the last of Seldorien's men. The hall had become littered with mutilated corpses and dropped weapons, the white marble floor turned slick and crimson.
That makes twenty. And two of ours. No, three.
Neither of the officers who had been with Levain would be continuing on, one of them killed during the fighting and the other looking like he may be joining him soon, sitting slumped in a growing puddle of his own blood, exhausted, but was being tended to by Havaldr.
That could have gone a lot better...
Ameren frowned and wiped her blades clean on the shirt of the closest corpse before sheathing them. The cut in her side wasn't all that deep, but it was still bleeding a lot, and she unbuckled some of the straps on her armour to be able to raise it and then bind the wound.
"Fool, leaving yourself open like that..." mumbled Ameren darkly under her breath and looked over toward the others, raising her voice some. "How are you all holding up?"
"Been better..." replied Connwear after a long sigh as he sank down into a crouch to let Havaldr have a closer look at his back.
"Better than some," added Levain, kneeling next to his fallen friend with a grim expression. He was in fairly good health though, a few scratches and cuts, as were the three officers Ameren had let in. They took a few minutes to bind the worst injuries and take the wounded officer to the hidden passage, where he might be of some use, should anyone get past them and try to leave that way.
"Are you ready to continue? We musn't linger," said Levain, gesturing to the two hallways behind him with one hand and patting the shoulder of the largest of his officers with the other. "I'll have Astal here go with you up the right path. We take the left. There are no doubt more men ahead, but we don't know where Lord Idhren or Seldorien is. Search the rooms. If they turn out to be empty, get to the other side."
"Very well, see you up ahead," mumbled Ameren dryly, drew her sword again and took the lead. Havaldr was quick to follow, taking care not to make the slightest sound, after him came Connwear in a happy saunter, twirling his sword and hefting the hillman's shield he'd scooped up earlier, and the officer Astal took up the rear. It was eerily silent and still now, a stark contrast to the chaos of the skirmish.
We're walking straight into a trap. But there's nothing for it. If we're fortunate it'll at least be a hastily laid one.
The first room they came to was a child's bedchamber, the door had been unlocked and opened without a sound, but there was no one inside. A fine layer of untouched dust covering the floor made it clear that it hadn't seen use for quite some time. The second door, leading to another bedchamber according to the maps of the estate Ameren had studied, was also unlocked, but heavily bolted from the inside, where it was completely silent.
"We can't open this one, not without a battering ram," said Ameren silently and took a step away from the door. "We can't just leave it, though. I doubt this room is empty, and I'd rather not have something slipping past us, or getting in to stab us in the back. Astal? Stay here."
The large man shrugged and settled in the keep watch, giving them a cheerful smile, something which caused Connwear to chuckle, and the trio continued toward the third door further ahead.
"Third time's the charm..." mumbled Ameren as she pressed down on the handle and pushed the door open. Beyond was a large study, richly adorned with fine furniture, tall bookcases and heavy drapes lining the walls, a roaring fire burning in the hearth and a few dozen candles lighting the room. In the middle of the study was a desk, and behind it a large armchair in which a nobleman with long, silky black hair streaked with grey sat, his back partly turned to them.
"I don't feel well about this at all. He must have heard us," whispered Havaldr behind her.
"We've clearly been funneled here," replied Ameren silently and licked her lips as she strode into the room, halted halfway to the desk and gave a sharp whistle in a defiant display to get the man's attention. "Seldorien, I take it?"
Connwear had been right at her heels, shield raised in anticipation of a surprise attack, and turned around to keep his back against Ameren's when she stopped, his gaze locked on the hallway behind them. Havaldr too had followed, hesitating at first, then quickly hurrying inside as not to be left alone, much like a scared child sticking close to its parents.
"Yes. And I'm surprised that you walked so willingly into this," said Seldorien, not bothering to look at them. He wasn't wearing armour, but rather rich clothes of fine, dark silk. "Overconfident in your abilities?"
In truth Ameren was unsure if this had been the right hand to play, but she'd already made the choice and showing the slightest doubt now could prove to be fatal.
"No, I'm certain I can kill you from this distance," replied Ameren, her tone cold and matter of factly, looking around the study. "And we are not the ones cornered here. You are."
We need him alive though. He's awfully relaxed, given the circumstances. Liam and Aiden are here somewhere.
"Where are the twins? Tell them to come out. I'm in no mood for games, and if they were intending to spring a trap they've waited too long."
A familiar chuckle came from the hallway and she felt Connwear shift slightly behind her.
Liam...
His brother stepped out of the shadows behind Seldorien when the nobleman signalled him to, going to stand next to his employer, weapons drawn and held partly raised.
...and Aiden.
"You're good, and I don't want you killed. In fact, I'd gladly pay for your services. Whatever Havaldr has offered you, I can tripple it," said Seldorien and carefully looked her over.
Terribly unfortunate for you that I'm not doing this for the sake of coin.
"I have no quarrel with you or your brother, but that will change unless you take this chance to leave," said Ameren calmly to Aiden, ignoring Seldorien and his offer.
"I know that voice," said Liam, pushing up on his toes to try to peer around Connwear's large frame.
"As do I," added Aiden and smiled warmly at her. "Ameren, sweetheart."
Shit... their memories are better than I thought...
"Sweet girl."
"Sweet girl."
"Is that really you?"
"It is, isn't it?"
Might as well see if the old bonds count for anything.
"Aye, it is. Long time, eh? I did ask you to leave, though," said Ameren, using her free hand to remove the hood and mask. She smiled back at Aiden as warmly and pleasantly as she could, a tone of feigned fondness in her voice. "Never did listen, did you?"
"Only when it suits us, sweetheart."
"Might have told us that you knew Seldorien's personal bodyguards, love..." hissed Connwear over his shoulder.
Aye, you should have. Foolish girl, hoping that you'd be able to avoid this confrontation.
"You see, sweetheart, we can't leave. A dead employer doesn't pay and Seldorien is not a man to be crossed, as your shaking fellow there can tell you," said Aiden and pointed vaguely to the terrified Havaldr with his dagger.
"Look outside. Look at all the blood we've already spilled tonight... I don't particulary want to spill any more," said Connwear, raising his voice. "So do as the lovely lady asks, and please leave..."
"Aye, we've been watching! Very impressive work. Very savage for a soldier," replied Liam, sounding quite cheerful about the fact. "A front-line man, I'd say. No doubt you've seen better days too. A lot of old wounds on you that you have to be careful with."
That lad always had an uncanning ability of finding his opponent's weak spots and exploiting them. I need to keep him away from Havaldr and Connwear, he's too fast for them to fight like this.
"None giving me too much trouble, mate. Don't worry..."
"Oh, I'm not worrying, buddy. Not about you."
"This woman is an old friend of yours, Aiden?" asked Seldorien, tired of being ignored.
Friend is hardly the word I'd use.
"Aye, she's another of Mistress Lee's, the favourite."
Lucky me...
"Exceptionally talented, but too kind hearted and clever to fully control. I thought Lee killed her ten years ago when that became a problem. Looks like I was mistaken."
Well, she certainly gave it her best shot.
"Lhiwel flees and some time later her favored protege turns up with Havaldr in tow, threatening everything I've built? That woman is too ambitious," said Seldorien and turned his gaze toward Ameren again. "Where is your Mistress? What is it she is hoping to gain with this? My place? The favour of Lord Idhren?"
So they've not heard about her death yet? Is there anything to gain from bluffing, I wonder... Maybe, but that is a risky game to play. The truth might be enough to unsettled the twins a little.
"I don't know what she was hoping for when she tried to put a leash on me again. I didn't care to ask," said Ameren coldly, still smiling faintly at Aiden, though it was no longer the least bit pleasant. "But she is dead, and not the reason I'm here."
Aiden just stared back at her for a moment, a brow raised, clearly the news had taken him by surprise.
"Lee's gone? Damn... Bitch of a woman, but still... How?"
"Does it matter? She's no longer the problem here," said Seldorien and scoffed, getting annoyed.
"Didn't think that bitch could die, that's all."
It's unreal, isn't it? Finding out that a person you thought damn near immortal was just another human being, a pile of flesh and bones that could be torn apart and broken.
"I was forced to crack her skull open when she tried to kill me again, Aiden," replied Ameren, her tone remaining cold to mask the distress the incident still caused her. "I didn't want to, but she gave me no choice in the matter. I don't also want to be responsible for killing you two, so... Please. Go on your way, find someone else to serve."
"We'd rather not fight you either, sweetheart," said Aiden and frowned. "But unless you hand over that lad's head, that's how it's going to be."
"He's got you proper fucking whipped," said Connwear, having a go at Liam's pride. "Seldorien's little bitch? That you?"
"I'm no one's bitch, buddy. I'm Liam. Hi!"
"Lieutenant. Y'know... In a different world, I think we could have gotten along pretty well, you and I."
Aye, they're not bad company, the twins, at least not as far as criminals go. Shame they're working for the wrong man.
"He wants to be friends! Aiden, can we keep him?"
"I can't allow Havaldr to be harmed, Aiden. I've taken it upon myself to see him through this alive. I'm one of the few who can pull off something like this," said Ameren calmly, shrugged and then let a grim smile spread across her lips. "A tool must stick to what it was made for, no?"
Liam had been laughing at his own comment, but fell silent when he heard Ameren's words, knowing perfectly well what was implied by them. Aiden too looked uneasy, even less keen on having to fight. The meaning was unknown to Seldorien however and he stood up behind the desk, giving a weary sigh.
"Enough of this. I'm willing to pay the both of you handsomely, all you need to do is step aside."
"Fuck-nuts! How much do you think it would take for me to put this shield down!?" shouted Connwear over his shoulder.
"We're not interested in gold, Seldorien, or anything else you might offer," added Ameren, keeping her gaze on Aiden. "It's been nice chatting, lads. And I'm truly sorry."
Their resolve seemed to have a positive effect on Havaldr, the young man had stopped shaking and was looking at Seldorien with some measure of confidence when the nobleman's bribery failed.
"Have it your way..." said Seldorien and nodded to Liam. A loud whistle echoed through the hallway behind them and they could hear a door be unbolted and opened, then the sound of running footsteps. Liam warily stepped into the room when four armed thugs took his place in the doorway, moving to stand a few metres from Connwear and Ameren's flank.
"Take the woman alive if you can, boys."
A heavy thud and the cracking sound of wood giving way came from the hallway, announcing the arrival of Levain and his officers. Ameren immediately flicked her left wrist to let the dagger in her gauntlet drop and threw it into Seldorien's gut while his men's attention was turned toward the advancing soldiers, quickly reaching back to grab a hold of Connwear's arm before he had a chance to move.
"Get Havaldr to the Marshal. Please," said Ameren, her tone soft and pleading, let go again and went to engage Liam. "I'll hold them as long as I can."
Seldorien groaned in pain and fell back into his chair just as Ameren clashed blades with Liam, calling for his men to pursue Connwear and Havaldr, Aiden leaping over the desk and setting off after them as his brother yelped upon having his thigh slashed open and responded by smashing the hilt of his sword into Ameren's face, splitting open her lip.
Oh no, you don't...
"Leaving dear brother all alone to be trashed?!" called Ameren after Aiden, turning toward the doorway and throwing the dagger she'd just drawn at him. It struck him at the base if the neck, causing the man to give a howl in pain and turn back to face her, teeth gritted in anger. Behind him Connwear had beaten in the face of one of the thugs with his shield, the others fighting the officers, and was dragging Havaldr away from the study.
"Then let us dance, sweetheart!" snarled Aiden and came for her, swinging both his weapons to strike down from above in quick slashes. And dance they did, Ameren deflecting his blows while trying to step around the attacks coming from behind.
"There's no way of talking you into fighting me one on one, is there?" mumbled Ameren after Liam cut a deep wound in her calf, limping backward into the room to keep them from flanking her.
That's it, lads, come with me. Ignore the others.
"If we did that, you'd win, sweetheart. How fair is that?" said Aiden over the ringing sound of metal striking metal as both he and his brother sent an onslaught of jabs and slashes after her, wearing her down.
"Fair? Two on one is fair? Two men on a wee girl?" retorted Ameren, struggling to keep any of their attacks from getting through to her, ending up backed against the far side wall before long.
"When that lass is you, sweetheart, it's more than fair. Wish we had Jasper with us as well, like the old days. That'd be a fight!"
It wasn't just Liam who knew how to exploit weaknesses. The mention of their old trainer was enough to give Aiden an opening and he barged into Ameren, locking blades with her and forcefully pushing her backward. Somehow she managed to stay upright as they surged through a set of heavy drapes and glass shattered around them when the door behind it broke, coming to a skidding stop on the stone balcony outside.
You should really know better than to get this close to me...
Weapons tangled and still a bit off-balance from the rush, Aiden had no chance of blocking her knee as it came up and smashed right into his fruits with a sickening thud. He collapsed on the floor as Ameren shoved him off, dropping both his weapons to grab his jewels and keep himself somewhat steady while he threw up onto the smooth stone surface, groaning in agony. Before Ameren had a chance to catch her breath Liam stepped through the broken glass door and flung a dagger at her, the blade sinking deep into her lower abdomen.
Oh, fuck me...
You can't fight with that stuck in you. Bleeding is preferable to intestine damage. Get it out.
Aiden was trying to get back up, still shaky and in great pain from the forceful blow, but the fury in his eyes indicated that he was no longer interested in playing nice and trying to take her alive. So she sent the dagger in her left hand toward him, gritted her teeth and pulled out the one Liam had thrown and tossed that as well, both weapons hitting their mark just as Aiden charged her a second time, cutting into his chest and throat. Crippled as she was, Ameren couldn't move out of the way in time and Aiden caught her left arm as he stumbled into her, trapping it between his body and the stone railing, breaking the bone before slumping down. Her cries of pain were drowned by Liam roaring in anger and grief at the sight of his dead brother, the sheer force he put behind his strikes tore Ameren's sword out of her hand and sent it flying across the balcony, clattering against the stone as it landed well out of reach.
One dagger and the knife left. Havaldr should have gotten away by now. Hold him off for just a little while longer.
Ameren drew the hunting knife and sidestepped to be free of the corpse, but Liam kept her pressed back against the railing, murder and tears in his eyes as he rained blow after blow at her, not giving her a chance to recover between them or get a strike of her own in. The man didn't let up when Connwear came running onto the balcony and roared his taunts to be heard over Liam's angry, incoherent shouting. But Liam stepped around the soldier's attacks with ease and swept Ameren's knife aside, tearing a shallow gash in her arm in the process, then sprung up and sent a powerful kick straight into her chest.
"Ameren!"
She heard Connwear's horrified wail when she tumbled backward over the railing, staring down at the ground far below, then the passing balcony as she was flipped around. Her reflexes kicked in and she drove the blade of the knife into the crack between two of the large blocks of stone, managing to wedge it there. Stabbing waves of pain spread from Ameren's right arm and shoulder down through her side as a fatal fall came to an abrupt stop for the second time that week, and she was left hanging from the hilt, forcing her fingers shut tight around it. She looked around, searching for some way of getting back onto the balcony, but there was no foothold to be used, only the flat surface of the stone wall. Above she could hear the sound of fighting, the ledge of the balcony infuriatingly close beyond the knife.
If I pull myself up a little, maybe I can swing a leg-
Ameren whimpered as the pain in her arm got worse, her muscles burned and her fingers threatened to release their hold when she tried to move, quickly gave up on that idea, took a deep breath and clutched the hilt harder, her gaze turned upward toward the balcony and the dark, star splattered sky.
It's out of your hands. You can do no more.
Blood steadily spilled out of the deep wound in her stomach, ran down her legs, and dripped off her boots, what was left of her strength going with it, her broken left arm hanging uselessly at her side, her right keeping catastrophic amounts of pain coursing through her, begging her let go.
It's fine, you did what you set out to do. You can let go.
Ameren felt tears burn in her eyes and blinked them away. Death itself had never frightened her. Loss did. Coming to care for something only to have it torn away terrified her, something that had been pushed aside these past few months to let her keep her mind clear. Now, hanging there with nothing but a short steel blade and a smooth bone handle keeping her from being crushed on the paved walkway far below, the calm focus that had kept them alive faded and made way for fear, guilt, and regret.
It's all right. It won't make up for what you've done in the past, but you did the right thing here. Let go.
Her fingers started to go numb and loosen, and the pain began to lessen as her mind grew distant, the effects of heavy blood loss taking hold.
"Ameren!"
An outstretched hand came into view and a worried, shaggy, hard-lined face above it.
Connwear...
She stared up at him, feeling her grip tighten again.
"My arm's broken. I can't climb up," whispered Ameren helplessly. She thought she heard the sound of running footsteps against the stone and then Havaldr's voice.
"We lift her up together, yes?"
"Get down there, I'll hold your legs," commanded Connwear, traces of panic in his voice. "Come on, now!"
Ameren released the hilt when Havaldr took hold of her wrist with both hands, weakly gripping at his as Connwear pulled them both back up onto the balcony. She was carefully put down on the floor, barely aware of anything except the strong arms holding her and the hands pressing down on the knife wound.
"Good, keep the pressure on, as hard as you can..." mumbled Ameren silently, her eyes flickering shut for a brief moment before she forced them to focus on Havaldr. "I'm not going to last long like this... Can you try to find a healer...?"
Havaldr got up and hurried back into the study, shouting something at the people there, but Ameren couldn't make out what it was.
"It's all right, lass. Y-you'll make it," said Connwear, his breathing coming fast.
"You're here... everything will be fine..." whispered Ameren, letting her head roll back against his shoulder and her hand rest limply on top of his. "Just stay with me... don't let me fall asleep."
"Don't worry... I won't. I won't," murmured Connwear through gritted teeth. "You're not about to die in my arms."
