The Blood Of The Wolf

Chapter Eight

        “Don't walk away from me when I’m speaking Whelp!” Vilkas called after Maris as she walked across the courtyard of the fort.

“Shut your trap, Mutt, you're boring me!” She hissed.

“Why should we have to stop at Dawnstar!” Vilkas growled.

“If you don't want to, you can always go running back to Jorvaskr with your tail between your legs but don't expect me to help you again! I don't offer the same favour twice!” Maris sneered, stopping and turning to face him.

“You manipulative little...” He growled under his breath. Maris patted his head mockingly.

“There's a good puppy.” She sneered.

“Let's just get going already.” Vilkas sighed. “The sooner I can be away from you, the better!”

“Then at least we have one thing in common.” Maris muttered snidely.

        Dawnstar wasn't far from the fort but it seemed likely that they would have to stop before getting there. From the fort it would be quite simple, they would just have to follow the road strait there. Maris said her goodbyes and they were soon out on their horses. Maris wore her Nightingale armour, the hood over her eyes and the cowl covering her mouth.

“Aren’t you afraid of people seeing you in that?” Vilkas asked.

“If anyone will be scared it will be them. You really don't know allot about the common people, they won't report me because they know if they even tried, I would tear their tongue out.” Maris hissed.

“Why are you so vulgar. Just because I know about you now doesn't mean I want to hear your thieves tongue.” Vilkas snarled, baring his teeth.

“And yet there is still so much you don't know.” She sneered, her eyes seeming to glow out of the darkness.

“Help! Help!” Came a call from the side of the road. The two companions pulled at the reins of their horses, who complied and slowed to a halt. A man stumbled from the shrubbery, clearly distressed. He was dishevelled and wore common clothing. Vilkas immediately climbed down from his horse.

“What's that matter? What is it?” He asked. Maris took her feet from the stirrups but instead of getting off, she turned to face the two, resting her arms on her knees and her chin on her knuckles.

“It's bandits!” The man exclaimed. “They attacked my cart! My daughter's injured” You have to help me.”

“Of course just...” Vilkas began but was interrupted when Maris jumped off her horse and dragged him away by the collar. She grabbed the man by the throat. The man let out a choking gurgle and grasped Maris' hand, trying to pull it away but to no avail.

“What the hell are you doing!” Vilkas exclaimed.

“How gullible do you think we are?” She asked, her eyes beginning to darken and turn purple.

“I don't know what you're talking about!” The man coughed.

“You're trying to lead us into a trap.” Maris said bluntly.

“How could you possibly know that?” Vilkas asked.

“There's no broken or raided cart anywhere near here. This is the main road so bandits wouldn't attack... Plus there are three of them in the trees.” Maris hissed, throwing the man aside. Vilkas looked up to see the bandits revile themselves. The man got up from the floor and produced a dagger from the folds of his tunic.

“Clever girl.” One of them mocked.

“Yea, I think we'll keep he-ugh!” Another said, right before an arrow pierced his throat.

        Maris pulled another arrow from her quiver and took aim at another one of the bandits. Vilkas drew his sword and went to strike the nearest bandit. Maris took the shot but the bandit ducked and rolled. He lunged at her. She spun away, her cloaks clouding the air. The bandit stumbled forward, disorientated. Maris took advantage of his stooped posture. She drew her rapier and stabbed it into the man's back. He let out a cry of pain which simmered down to blood filled gurgle as he bled out onto the cobblestone. She sheathed her rapier and took another arrow from her quiver. She drew back and aimed to where Vilkas had just finished off one of the bandits. Unknown to him, a woman with a battle axe was coming in from behind him. She let the arrow fly. It whistled through the air, narrowly avoiding Vilkas and piercing the woman's scull. She fell limp and collapsed into a heap on the floor. Vilkas looked around at the four bodies on the floor.

“You owe me one.” Maris said, nudging one of the bodies with her foot.

Vilkas rubbed the back of his neck. “So that means there's a bandit camp near by...” He muttered.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Maris asked.

“I hate to admit it but yes. My sword arm's been itching since we left Whiterun.” Vilkas said.

        Maris and Vilkas looked down from their vantage point beside the bandit camp. It was and old watch tower nestled between the hills. Two guards stood at it's doors. Maris drew and arrow and pulled back her bowstring. She looked down the shaft and smirked.

“Too easy.” She sneered. She let go of the arrow and it sailed directly towards one of the bandits. Before it hit it's target, Maris had already drawn another and taken aim. The arrow hit the guard, throwing him against the wall. He slumped and slid down the wall, smearing the brick work with blood. The other bandits eyes widened but before he could cry out in alarm, Maris' second arrow pierced his throat. Vilkas scrambled down the steep incline. Maris followed, though much more gracefully. Maris put her bow on her back and knelt down and yanked the arrows from the corpses. Meanwhile, Vilkas stood, his nose in the air.

“There are three more directly inside.” He noted quietly.

“Good, we can sneak up on them, let me open the door.” She whispered, drawing her broad bladed rapier.

        The two slipped inside undetected. Just as Vilkas had said, there where three bandits, their backs to them, hunched over the table in the centre of the room. Maris turned to Vilkas and put her finger to her lips. Completely disregarding Maris' instructions, Vilkas rushed forward, impaling the centre Bandit. The other two stumbled away going for their weapons. Vilkas kicked the body off his sword and brought it down hard on one of the bandits heads, cracking her scull. Maris grabbed the other one and yanked him backwards, pulling him off balance. He landed harshly on his back and Maris brought her sword down harshly on his chest. Maris looked back to Vilkas, baring her teeth.

“Do not disobey my orders!” She hissed.

“Watch me!” Vilkas snarled, turning and rushing down into the lower halls. Their were six bandits in the room bellow. Vilkas had already cut down two before she got to the bottom of the stairs. She groaned and pulled her bow off her back. She drew an arrow and sent it flying. It hit a bandit directly in the heart, she went to draw another when she noticed the shadow shift slightly. Her eyes widened. She spun on her heels only to be confronted by the handle of an axe coming down on her head... where had he come from? Maris let out a pained cry and fell to the floor, her vision blurring and her ears ringing.

“Maris!” Vilkas yelled. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the bandit above her raising his axe to deal the final blow. Everything went black and she slumped onto the stone steps. Sound came in echoed into her ears. The howl of a wolf, screams, liquid splashing, then it all just seemed to fade away...