The Capture (17)

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Emory and Shay helped the others prepare for the trip, making sure they had enough herbs, food, and weapons to sneak into the castle. While they worked, Cassius remained inside the cabin, but if one looked towards the windows they would see him peeking out and watching the Unholy with a close eye.

"You'd think as someone who hired Unholy to kill us he wouldn't have that strong of a reaction to these ones," Emory muttered to Shay, keeping her eyes on the bag she packed on her horse. Shay wasn't paying much attention, and upon realizing Emory had said something, nodded in unbeknownst agreement.

"Emory, I should look at your shoulder again before we head out. I don't want you to be in too much pain while we're riding." Aila walked up, looking down to Emory's wound and then to behind the cabin. "Is that okay?"

"Of course," Emory forced a smile and followed Aila towards the back of the cabin. Aila sat down on the grass and gestured for Emory to follow suit.

"Can you just remove part of your shirt?" Aila asked as she root through her bag of 'medicine.' Emory just nodded and began removing her vest. As she got to her shirt, she pulled the fabric over her shoulder and winced a little. "Still tender, I see."

"I feel a lot better with that stuff you gave me."

"Good, I made more of it for you. Here," Aila handed her the medicine and then grabbed a cloth from her bag. Emory took the bitter medicine but kept her eyes on Aila as she worked. She was beautiful, and for that Emory couldn't help but stare. There was something about her that made Emory hate her and curious about her all at once. Aila looked up and caught Emory staring, causing her to quickly look away. Aila just chuckled and moved closer to Emory. "I'm going to clean your wound. It might sting."

Before Emory could protest, Aila pressed the rag to Emory's wound and she let out a cry of pain. "Oh..." Emory winced and looked down to the rag. "Fuck. What was that?"

Aila rose an eyebrow. "Alcohol. Helps with cleaning out and lessening your chance of infection. I figured if I told you there would be less of a chance of you actually letting me help you."

"You were right," Emory laughed and looked up at Aila. "I'm never letting you do that again."

"Then don't get hurt again," Aila smiled, her eyes lingering on Emory for a few seconds longer. "I'm finished. Make sure whoever you're riding with goes a little slower."

Emory stifled her smile and gave a curt nod, letting Aila return to the others. As Emory covered herself up again, her ears caught the sound of others nearby. It was distant, but Emory could make out the laughter of more than a few people. She stood from her spot on the ground and moved back around the cabin. The others were remaining generally quiet as they prepared for the trip, and Emory flagged them down with waving arms. They all caught on fairly quickly and stopped moving completely. Aila listened, gesturing for Shay to get on the horse she had been handling.

Shay followed suit, straining her ears for any sound. Sure enough, the group Emory had heard had another bout of laughter, but this time it was much closer. Everyone swiftly began packing their bags at double the speed, but Ingrid moved quickly towards Emory. "Let me help you onto the horse," she whispered. Emory nodded as Ingrid guided her over to Shay's horse, cupping her hands together so Emory could more easily get up. As Emory got up and began to situate herself, another voice rang out.

"Is that a cabin?"

Ingrid's heart jumped into her throat, and she looked over her shoulder to where some foliage could be seen shifting in the distance. Ingrid looked up at Emory and Shay, who were also looking towards the moving shrubs and branches. Ingrid slapped the horse, making it take off into a gallop past the Unholy soldiers. They followed behind the Prophet, leaving Ingrid without question.

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