Even the King froze at this, as though scared the slightest movement would bring his death too. He regarded the stranger with caution, from the corner of his peripheral vision, but didn't turn to look at him straight on.
At first no one spoke, every person on edge to the point where no one dared to breathe. Charlie was shaking to the point where he watching was difficult through vision blurred by red. He clenched his fists, a growl echoing from him.
But at first James didn't acknowledge Anthony, rather turning his voice to his youngest son.
"Go outside and check that no one else has been hurt," he commanded firmly.
One way to put it, Charlie thought, but he knew what his father was implying.
He wanted his unpredictable son nowhere near ground zero if this was going to all go off.
Charlie tugged on Briar's elbow, to which she responded with a low protest. Stilling herself like a statue, she had no intention of leaving. At least not until she was given further answers about what had happened.
Leaning closer so he was a mere inch from her ear, he whispered in a low tone. "Come on, or it might not be me who tears you limb from limb." Charlie's words were foreboding, and perhaps cruel, but it didn't matter as long as it worked.
And it did.
Whilst he couldn't have described the young witch as willing, she followed him begrudgingly out of the tent and back into the light of camp. He lead her with a grip as firm as he could manage, despite the fact he was shaking like a mad man.
Once they were free of the tents four walls, Briar picked up the speed and outpaced Charlie, who watched her in a pained silence.
Muttering to herself, half under her breath but Charlie's heightened senses could pick up on the words. She paced back and forth, barely seeming to notice the still frozen members of camp dotted around her.
"I cant believe it," she muttered. Looking like she was fighting the strong urge to punch something as hard as she could. "He's meant to be dead, this cant be right." Her words were stumbling now, like Briar was struggling to get her head around it. Like a million thoughts were swimming around it.
Charlie would have moved to comfort her, hold her, do anything to cheer her up but he could barely breathe. His fists clenched, a snarl tore from his throat before he could stop it. He too began pacing, but the thoughts running through his head were much more deadly.
She swung around at the sound of a snarl, magic fire at her finger tips and a defensive stance to the way she stood. Briar narrowed her eyes, "I'm not in the mood to calm you down, don't make me use slightly less humane tactics."
But Charlie couldn't hear what she was saying, only that her lips were moving. It infuriated him.
Her voice quickly softened, the humour void from it to be replaced with pure concern. If not somewhat spoiled by the apparent panic in her voice. The flames flickered momentarily, but she forced herself to stay strong.
The only thing that was stopping Charlie from ripping her throat out in that minute, and the sitting ducks which were the rest of the army at that moment. Was the sliver of humanity which still remained.
But it was quickly becoming harder and harder to hold on to it.
Lowering herself to her knees, Briar struggled to force the shiver from her tone as she said. "Not now, Charlie, for the love of God not now." She begged, Charlie could only just hear her through the red.
The need to destroy and kill was beginning to overwhelm him and the red had all but taken a total hold on his vision. He shook with the effort of holding back against the need to shift, to put himself in a better position to defend himself from the blinding pain taking over his entire body at that point.
Yet her voice through the blur and fog was enough, at least for the time being to bring the young wolf back to himself. Or whatever was left of his true self after years of being a monster. Charlie lowered his head.
Guilt ricocheted through him, wondering if Briar realised as to how close he had been to killing her. But he shook himself, forcing as much of the negativity away as he could. Charlie looked to her, desperate. "Can we find a tent, I cant stand being out here, with all these eyes."
He was very aware of how ludicrous he was being, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Even if the eyes of the petrified army were currently unseeing. It left him feeling unsettled.
"Of course," Briar said with a heavy sigh. Offering him her hand, which he took without hesitation.
The pair made their way through the camp, trying to find a tent left empty that didn't already stink of another person. At last they found one, and the pair settled on the hard floor, sitting in silence for a moment.
Resting his head back against the wall of the makeshift tent, Charlie didn't speak for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to. He was exhausted already, and now he was left even more uncertain of what tomorrow would bring.
After everything that had happened in the last few days, Charlie had even fewer people to trust.
And the lady in front of him, the one he had hoped to be able to trust, was now in most doubt of all. He watched her through one peeking eye, thinking for a while. Unsure of how to even begin with the thousands of questions bouncing around his skull.
So he went for the more direct route.
"Why did you think Anthony was dead?"
Briar had apparently expected this to be his question, and she held his gaze solidly for a moment. Before at last looking away with a low sighing sound before she responded in a quiet tone.
"Most people don't survive cyanide," her words were plain and simple. As though she was describing the weather, not her attempt at murder. "He, apparently managed." Her brow furrowed, as though she too was trying to understand how the hell he had done it.
The next question was the more difficult one, and it guilt burned at the very thought of asking it.
"Why?"
For a moment Charlie thought she was either going to punch him, or simply refuse to answer.
She watched him through twinkling eyes, the healer was forcing the tears away that much was apparent.
Charlie almost instantly regretted asking it, but unfortunately he didn't have the power to turn back time. All he could do was wait for her answer, be it in a positive or negative way. Charlie waited in an expectant silence.
"Anthony... He's a sadist," she answered after a moment. "He thought that war took away the rules. So he, he did terrible things." Her eyes twinkled again, but this time a barrage of tears sprinkled her cheeks. Unable to hold them back.
He said nothing. Despite the urge to beg her for forgiveness for bringing it up.
"Your King, your father was terrible to us. So he decided to lower himself to his standard." Briar explained, her voice staying surprisingly level in spite of the pain which underlay her tone. "Most of us just put up with it, thinking that the enemy was so much worse. He would never hurt any of his own people."
Now he could almost guess what she was going to say next, yet he remained on the edge of his seat. Needing the answers to come from her. To find it to be the truth, even if it was painful to hear it.
Shifting uncomfortably she continued. "By now our resources were already beginning to run low. Mostly because of bad decisions, we weren't yet starving. But it wasn't going to be long, so we ransacked local villages and towns."
Quickly adding to the end of her last sentence, desperate to make it apparent that she had had no part in it. At least no more than she was forced to. "Trying our best not to kill anyone unless they got in our way."
Part of him wanted to smile, as sickening as it sounded in his head. Anything to reassure her, to try and make her feel better about what was clearly an incredibly painful thing for her. He didn't blame her, but he still didn't move to comfort her.
"One day he brought in a group from what he said was a village he had captured. Children included." She explained. "This was maybe a year ago?" She said, wiping at the tears with frustration. As though the witch of emotion hated showing her own.
Merely nodding in response, the lump at the back of his throat making it impossible to speak.
Running her fingers through her hair, giving up on her attempts to get rid of her tears and instead hiding them. Charlie could hear her heart racing in the witch's chest, and he bit down on his lip to stop the whine leaving his throat.
"It was the first time he brought kids into the equation," she explained as best as she could.
Gritting his teeth. It may have been calling the kettle black, it was inevitable that he had hurt children in his past, it was his nature and he would never have intended to do it. The idea of purposefully doing something to harm a youngster made him angry.
Kicking out her legs, as though needing to strike something and unable to bring herself to hit Charlie. Even if he was more than capable of taking pretty much any blow she was capable of delivering.
"He made no attempts to hide what his intentions were, he wasn't going to feed the enemy and he wasn't about to let them go. Not now they knew where our hideout was, he tried to convince us it was the right thing to do..."
To kill the innocent.
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Charlie stepped forward and was in her arms before he realised what was happening. Without thinking he took her slender frame into his muscular arms and lifted her closer to his chest.
Briar was as surprised as he by the sudden gesture, but did nothing to pull away or try to stop him. She didn't continue for a moment, enjoying the closeness and unable to say.
Happy to wait until she was ready, Charlie waited. Watching her, twiddling a strand of her hair through his fingers. Breathing deeply, taking as much in of her scent as he was capable of, wishing they could freeze in that moment for an eternity.
Forcing herself to continue as strongly as she could. Briar's voice sounded again, this time sounding notably more brave then it had done before. She straightened a little in his arms, looking into Charlie's eyes as she spoke.
Charlie met her gaze as strongly as he could, feeling as though he could have drowned in the depths of her deep golden eyes. He would be there as her rock if that's what it took to hear her laugh again.
"Of course we said no," she said lowly. "We were still human, even if your father did everything he could over the years to dehumanise the bunch of us." She spoke like the King's name was poison on her tongue. "We were never going to agree to the killing of children, we told him to find another way."
Looking away for the first time, Briar froze and looked distinctly for a moment like she wanted to be sick. Charlie took her gently beneath the chin, and returned her gaze to focus on his face. He looked at her as though she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
To him she was.
"But he didn't listen."
"That was our first indication that he wasn't the man he claimed to be," Briar spoke in a quiet voice. "And it wasn't the last, we had voted him in. We insisted on choosing our own leader when the rebellion started. We didn't want another, potentially even worse version of your father."
It should have sounded like an insult, but in that moment Charlie couldn't have cared less about familial ties. For all he cared, she was the only person in the world. At least the only person of importance.
"Never in our wildest dreams did we expect that he would turn out to be so much worse."
She stumbled on her words for the first time, choking a little now. "Not one of our own."
Charlie didn't know what possessed him, and before he realised what he had done, it was too late.
He kissed her.
And she kissed him back.
It shouldn't have been nearly as romantic as it felt. Considering all that had come into light in their conversation. But his need to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright had forced his hand. And he didn't know how else to do it, and had chosen action over any words he could have told her.
He didn't know what to say in the moment after they had broken apart. He looked at her, jaws still a little agape as he struggled to think of anything intelligent that he could have filled the silence with.
"I'm sorry," he said at last. Failing to achieve the intelligence part of his intentions.
After a moment, Briar replied with a quiet. "Don't be."