"I still don't think we should be doing this."
Fionn was not hearing this for the first time. He always dragged Nerina along on his little adventures and each time she voiced her concerns, she sighed, rolled her eyes and went along. He smiled now as he kept his eyes on the men guarding the stone-fortified prison. Eight men from what he could see all armed and armored for war. This was another stop in their little crusade to help innocent people sentenced to death for supposed links to the supernatural. No witch with half a brain, not even the marauding crusader type, would allow humans to capture him or her.
It was just humans killing humans out of fear and ignorance. Nerina saw no reason to meddle in that but Fionn was not one to stand back and watch innocent people die for nothing. He felt responsible. She felt the need to remain hidden. For everyone, they saved two more somewhere else died but that was not the point—they had to do what they could. The man had a big heart, Nerina was just selfishly anxious to live her life—finally—in peace.
"Squeamish, Marjorie," Fionn called her by that name to mock her. The high from the hunt glinted mischief in his eyes when he looked over at her. On their bellies, they hid in the high grass along the perimeter of the prison.
"Squeamish does not fit into this context. Lunacy. A slight touch of—"
"Adventure," he finished.
"Hardly the word I would use either for your hair-brained schemes."
"Yet you always come along."
Nerina smiled. "Someone has to keep you alive."
"Hardly necessary seeing that I am immortal."
Fionn moved keeping low and hidden in the grass before she could respond, smiling as she slanted her eyes at him. Yes, he was immortal in the true sense of it. Nothing could kill him. Nothing he had mentioned so far. It was eerie on one hand, settling on the other. Nerina, though it had not come to the fore of her mind until recently, had been uneasy about spending eternity alone. Now reluctantly she opened herself to the possibility that she might not have to. Then she thought of the heads in the fire and figured she might not live so long in any case. Fionn was a hunted man and she was his Achilles heel.
This latest adventure involved one of the most secure prisons in England. Along with the guards, there was a moat. It was not hard to picture the snapping jaws lurking in the cold depth of the dark water. The guards they saw did not include the ones along the wall or the ones on the other side of the colossal, gray, stone wall. The objective—save some poor soul wrongly accused of a crime involving magic. His wife had made an impassioned plea that had fallen on Fionn's ear. A plea he could no more ignore than she could tell him to leave it be. Human affairs — in her opinion—was their business to handle as they saw fit. Fit being hanging, burning and drowning. Their savagery towards each other left much to be desired.
If they felt it justified to burn each other at the stake or drown each other or hang each other from the gallows, far be it from her to intervene. They would have done the same to her. Fionn thought her crass for holding such a bleak point of view. No fault of hers, he had said because everyone was shaped by their pasts, their experiences. Her experiences had hardened her. There had been no infliction or condemnation when he had said it only understanding. A kind of unspoken sadness for her situation. She had managed to hold on to some parts of herself but she had to admit some parts were missing and she would never get them back.
Fionn had taken it upon himself to save the hopeless; she was his trusty sidekick.
Her role in this one was to play distraction. Plan A to her plan B that was to cut out the act, kill them all, and free the man and gone long before dawn. His was to distract, debilitate, infiltrate, and leave without a trace and no casualties. They had come for one man; they would leave with one man and no blood on their hands.
Nerina came stumbling from behind the trees covered in dirt her dress torn looking like a victim of an attack. The man had magic; there was no need for her to be playing a damsel in distress. Hair disheveled she stumbled with every other step, going down on her hands and knees, scrambling weakly to her feet. Fionn had to place a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh but she heard him. Nerina made a mental note to pay him back for the embarrassment later. Her act was all for his amusement.
One of the guards came towards her when she fell close to the bridge that led over the moat and remained on the ground. Her sobs were loud in the quiet of the night.
"Ma'am, you should not be here."
The other guards looked about them making sure they were alone. Their human eyes would never make out any danger to them Nerina mused. Even now as she lay helpless on the ground, she had the strength to take them all before a word could leave their lips.
Nerina looked up weakly. "Help me. Please. He tried—" She stammered feigning weakness, "to attack me." Nerina had to admit that her thoughts towards humans were crass. In the midst of it all, one thought came to mind... would they rape or help her. They were men, and she had seen enough of their—chivalry—to know if some hapless woman had happened by she would be no safer here with them than she would be in the woods with whatever chased her.
One by one, the men fainted away, their armor rattling against the ground. Nerina rolled her eyes as she stood facing Fionn. His face was sober but his eyes betrayed him.
"You sniveling witch."
"You gorgeous damsel in distress," his smile had the side of her lips twitching. She bit down hard to hold in the laughter that was threatening to come as she gave him a stern look.
Fionn kissed her on the nose as he passed. Her eyes had betrayed her as well. In one leap, Nerina was over the wall. The drawbridge came down soon after and Fionn crossed it.
"I could have opened it just fine," he stated as he looked around the courtyard at the sleeping guards.
"And let you have all the fun? You won't let me kill them so the least you can do is allow me to open a door for you."
"Chivalry my lady?"
Nerina gave him a mock curtsy. "Fit for a king."
They made quick work of entering the cell area with all the guards out cold. Nerina noted too that the prisoners were also asleep. She frowned.
"I hope you don't expect me to carry him out."
"What happened to me not having all the fun?"
She gave him a nasty look over her shoulder to which he replied with a smile. It always amazed Nerina how ready he was to give an easy smile. Her face felt like marble whenever she tried to make her lips move up. When they did move, as he so often made them, the sensation felt peculiar on her face. Had she gone so long without smiling? Dmitri had made her smile too and the sensation had been just as strange. The memory of him had her heart sinking. She changed the direction of her thoughts quickly knowing the images were not far behind.
"Something the matter?"
"I'm fine." The words came out between her teeth.
"A lie. But for now, I won't push. Later." His eyes were serious now. There would be a later and she was not going to be able to avoid it.
The pungent smell of waste was acidic. The condition of the inside where the cells were located was several steps down from inhumane. Nerina redirected her mind, taking her focus away from the smell. Cells lined off on either side. Where the prisoners lay unconscious in their cramped, airless confines was also void of light. One small opening at the very end of the corridor would be the only source through which natural light came in. It would not be much. Neither did it let in much fresh air.
"I suppose they did very bad things to deserve this." Nerina had the hem of her skirts high off the ground to avoid the muck she had to walk in from seeping into the fabric. Personally, she preferred men's clothing and often wore them. For this little charade, Fionn cooked up, a dress was needed. Breeches and boots were made for walking in a place like this not a dainty dress. She made another mental note to ensure she paid him back in full.
"Some I am sure," he said, answering her question. "Others may not have." He stopped in front of a cell. On the wave of his hand, the old man in the cell woke up. He was puzzled as he got to his feet off the filthy floor. He was much older than Nerina had expected for the crimes laid against him.
She had to admit she found it a bit of a stretch that the man who stood before her was capable of robbery on his own, but then, he could have with magic as he was accused of using. The bruises on his face and the slight limp of his left foot suggested his guards had not held the same thought. Through the dirt that had formed a second skin over the man, she could not tell if they were fresh or not. But they looked to be slightly infected. Along with the pungent scent of waste, Nerina smelt sickness and death.
To hurry it all along, she held on to the cell door and pulled it. The old man stood staring with his one good eye. The other was swollen shut.
"Come on then. We don't have all night."
Fionn made a hasty introduction when the old man started to mumble questions. His mouth was also badly swollen. Overall he looked a mess. Nerina led the way through the winding passages to the exit or the entrance they had used. Abruptly she pulled up short.