Chapter Six

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Chapter Six

“By the Nine,” I muttered.  Could my eyes be deceiving me?  No.  Being dragged between the dancing flames of the nightfires were my bandits.  My bandits.  I didn’t take kindly to people taking what belonged to me.  I looked down at the still descending Rhythe.  A pebble was seated nearly my hand.  I picked it up and threw it at him, hitting him on the neck.

His head shot up, scowling.  “What was that for?”

Behind gritted teeth, I shushed him.  Even in the shroud of darkness, I could see that brow of his furrow.  “Get up here!” I whisper-shouted.  “Now!”

He must have heard the urgency in my voice.  Even he wasn’t that daft.  With the skills only obtained by years of crawling and climbing did Rhythe scale the rock face with such speed.  His head popped up alongside mine, his jaw dropping in the same horrified expression I had.  “What in Oblivion…”

I shushed him again.  “Keep your voice down.  We can’t risk getting caught.  Not here.”  If they didn’t just stab us, they could just pelt us with arrows until we dropped.  From this height, the fall wouldn’t kill us.  But it’d hurt.  Real bad.

“There’s no way we can lay down an assault on them now,” he said.  “With half our numbers gone and the other half captured…” he paused, staring at the men that were once our companions.  They were being paraded about the camp.  The Forsworn who had been silent were now on their feet, waving their savage swords and war axes at them.  Some chanted, while others just hurled insults at them in their primitive tongue.  “We should run while we can, Dragontooth.  Those men are already dead.  I don’t intend to be among them.”

I breathed in that pungent, acrid smoke emanating from the dozen nightfires.  “Malborn won’t help me unless I do something,” I told him.

“He won’t be able to help you if you’re dead.”  His pressed his forehead against the rock.  “Think about Ulfric.  If you die, you won’t be able to deliver that message to him.  And Mikald.  I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you obviously care deeply about him.  I don’t think he’d want you to risk your life just for some bandits.”  He paused, looking up to meet me in the eyes.  “Your father wouldn’t want you to do this, Amelsa.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.  Tears welled in my eyes, but a smile came to my lips.  A trill of laughter pealed out of me.   I couldn’t help it.  Rhythe, the poor soul, had helped me make my decision.  “We have to save them.  That’s exactly what both Mikald and my father would do.  That’s what we need to do.”

He looked at me like I had completely lost my mind.  His thin lips were parted just a touch as his eyes stared disbelievingly into mine.  I cocked my head to the side and shrugged, still smiling.

“You’re a bloody fool, Amelsa.”  His head rolled back and he took a deep breath.  “But I’ll follow you.  Maybe then you’ll forgive me about losing your bloody armor.”

I chuckled as I hauled myself over the top of the cliff.  “It’ll be a start.”

From my position behind one of their tents, I watched the remnants of my bandit companions.  Rhythe slid up beside me.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his scowl as he watched the Forsworn spew curses at the men.  On the plateau, the hagravens had finished their rituals to create the Briarhearts.  Two of those creatures rose from the stone table, grasping their weapons.  A hideous roar poured out of their lips.  The hagravens screeched alongside them.  I winced at the uproar.

Slowly, the Briarhearts began the descent down.  We didn’t have much time.  I knew what the Forsworn did to their captives.  I’ve seen it myself.  No one, not even filthy bandits, deserved to die like that.

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