Deserter - Chapter Five: Ill Fate

• Posted by FishDout July 13, 2015 - 934 views

  

  Distractions get you killed.

  A majority of the Whiterun Guard force was posted at the mouth of a mountain pass, waiting on the verge of war for orders. Castle Dour had sent a small unit of imperial soldiers to aid them in their attack, and now numerous patches of brown leather dotted their ranks, peppering the field of gold that the guards' cuirasses made their army resemble.

  The Hold Guard knew better than anyone that aesthetics were the last thing that would win a battle for them, but the presence of the imperials made him uneasy nonetheless. Even without the additional ranks the guard force outnumbered the Stormcloak encampment vastly, and at a time when troops were spread thin... The Hold Guard shook himself and tried to dismiss the thought, but his suspicions festered still at the back of his mind. Distractions get you killed, he thought bitterly, and his mind turned to Kyr. 

  The elf was scared witless, no doubt, but she would fiercely deny it if he found her. He smiled at the thought. Trying to find her among the guards would be impossible, though, for with their identical uniforms looking around was like peering into a thousand mirrors. She was beyond help now, he realized; the most he could do was keep himself alive. Distractions get you killed, he thought again, and brought his attention back to the situation at hand. Before he could sidetrack himself another time, the call-to-arms was sounded, and the army muscled itself into position. An order was given, and they plunged into the mountain pass with golden banners flying, into the shadows of the mountains on either side.

  They hadn't bothered hiding their presence, for the Stormcloak encampment was without a means of escape. A rockslide had rendered the other side of the mountain pass untraversable, and sheer cliff faces ensured that the only path in and out of the campsite was the path that the imperials now marched on. What flight of lunacy had made the Stormcloaks choose the spot as a base was beyond the Hold Guard, and frankly he didn't care. They soon reached a small Stormcloak force - too small, thought the Hold Guard, but he forced himself to focus again - waiting with weapons drawn at the ready. The imperials halted their march with a final collective step that echoed thunderously through the pass. They were a hundred feet away from the opposing army, and a sudden lull in noise fell upon both sides. 

  Being well versed in the act of war, the Hold Guard knew there was a good chance he wouldn't live through the battle, and an even bigger chance that Kyr wouldn't. Luck was always a soldier's dearest ally and worse enemy. As a horn sounded somewhere in the valley, the Hold Guard muttered a quick prayer to the divines, cursed everybody who called war an 'art', and readied himself as his neighbouring guards took a collective breath and began to charge. His eyes quickly fell upon the Stormcloak on the other end of his charge, and they both readied their weapons. Dumb luck was all that would determine which of them would live, and both soldiers knew that full well.

  The Stormcloak raised her battleaxe above her head and grunted as she brought it down with a force that would have halved the Hold Guard from head to groin had he not moved at the last second. The axe hit the ground inches from his feet, and the Stormcloak was momentarily unprotected. It was all the Guard needed. He drove his sword through the woman, her leather cuirass parting with a sigh. Ripping his sword from her chest, the Hold Guard glanced at his comrades on either side. An imperial on his right had just cut through another Stormcloak, but the Guard heard a guttural groan from his left where one of his fellow guards had had his throat cut. His ally's warm blood flew off of a Stormcloak's swinging axe and came to rest on the Hold Guard's unblemished cuirass. He struck the rebel with his shield, sending tremors through his own arm, and buried his sword in the man's back. 

  Before the Guard could ready himself again, something hard crashed against his helmet, and he fell backwards onto the ground. He raised his shield desperately, and a warhammer beat against it, rattling his bones and reducing the wood to splinters. Before another blow could be delivered, the guard behind stepped over him and sank his sword into the Stormcloak's stomach before running off. The Hold Guard climbed onto his knees, fell into a sudden unconsciousness, recovered... and the battle was over. 

  The Guard forced his gaze upon the recent battlefield. Blood stained the ground, and an ominous silence lingered in the valley. He blinked, then remembered Kyr. He rose to his feet in a daze and staggered around looking for the elf. He found her leaning against a tree, helmet-less, with a hand over her stomach and a pained expression on her face. Her cuirass was covered in blood, and the Guard collapsed onto his knees next to her. She glanced at him through half-closed eyes and grunted as she recognised him, even with his helmet on.

  "Bet you wish you'd trained me better," she smiled sadly, then grimaced in pain. The Hold Guard stared at her, unmoving. "I... I think I'm going to die." She croaked, and the Guard fell against the tree next to her. He closed his eyes in guilt. 

  "I'm sorry," was all he could say, but his voice caught. Kyr nodded, placed her head upon his shoulder, and closed her eyes. The Hold Guard didn't move. Then Kyr raised her head suddenly and punched him in the arm. 

  "I'm sorry?" She growled in annoyance, moving her hand from her stomach and sitting up. "I'm lying there dying and all you can say is you're sorry?" The Hold Guard scrambled to his feet in surprise and pointed at her with a shaky hand, dumbfounded. 

  "It's not my blood, you imbecile," Kyr shook her head, grinned, and rose to her feet. "We're going to talk about your bedside manner later. Meanwhile, how about we celebrate the fact that I've survived my first battle?" 

  The Hold Guard stood motionless for a few seconds, then stepped forward and took Kyr in a crushing embrace. "Don't you dare do that again," he snapped in her ear before releasing her. They sat down again, and despite the bloody battlefield that they were in, they both smiled and talked. Kyr regaled him with her wildly exaggerated feats during the battle, and teased him for being so very unconscious for the better part of it. He laughed, prattled, and beamed with her, and for just one moment the Hold Guard was at ease. He looked to the clouds, at the sun peeking over a cliff face... then frowned at something arcing through the sky. His eyes widened in sudden recognition and he turned to Kyr and opened his mouth... and the arrow buried itself in her throat with a thud.

  The Hold Guard barely heard his comrades nearby yell 'ambush!' His mind was fixed upon Kyr's lifeless body in disbelief. As the soldiers around him stirred, picking up their weapons, he could only sit there, petrified. Inches from his friend's corpse, with others screaming at him to get up, only one thought ran through the Hold Guard's mind:

  Distractions get you killed. 

  ----------------

  Writer's Note
  Apologies for the length of this post; I just couldn't bring myself to edit anything out.

  
  Table of Contents
  

  Previous Segment | Next Segment