Difference between revisions of "Everlight Family/Isana/Westmoor"

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===Westmoor===
 
===Westmoor===
  
Isana woke with a start. It was pitch-dark. She was cramped and cold on a too-short cot with an irritating ringing in her ears. Her body was a symphony of myriad pain. Worst was her left leg, leaden and aching deeply as though the bone within was melting. Her mouth tasted of iron.<br>
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Isana woke with a start. It was pitch-dark. She was cramped and cold on a too-short cot with an irritating ringing in her ears. Her body was a symphony of pain. Worst was her left leg, leaden and aching deeply as though the bone within was melting. Her mouth tasted of iron.<br>
 
   
 
   
 
She turned her head slowly, blinking, to try and see anything at all. Had she been captured? Where was she?<br>
 
She turned her head slowly, blinking, to try and see anything at all. Had she been captured? Where was she?<br>

Latest revision as of 06:07, 10 August 2020

Westmoor

Isana woke with a start. It was pitch-dark. She was cramped and cold on a too-short cot with an irritating ringing in her ears. Her body was a symphony of pain. Worst was her left leg, leaden and aching deeply as though the bone within was melting. Her mouth tasted of iron.

She turned her head slowly, blinking, to try and see anything at all. Had she been captured? Where was she?

“Don’t move, Iz,” came a hushed familiar voice nearby.

“Dani?” she whispered back.

“Aye. You were bled bad. Stay still. It’s yer thigh.”

“You don’t say. That arrow was bad eh?”

“Four arrows. Somehow they all missed yer hamstring. Lucky as heck, Everlight.”

“I don’ feel lucky,” Isana murmured.

The Westmoor wall battle was coming back in terrifying visions. Peers and even marshals of the armies being dragged from the battlefield with gruesome wounds: the immense Rogos, covered in blood; Delphine; the talkative new arrival Schwarzherzig; and more. She worried for Dustiria, whose cavalry had plunged fearlessly into the massed foe and disappeared. Images of her Stormfront valiantly holding the line after the infantry had been decimated, protecting their own devastating Perdanese special forces from the bloodthirsty Epon-Niveman army under a sky-darkening hail of arrows.

“Status report?”

“I’d send you Henrik fer that but he’s finally asleep. And I’ve seen ‘em all anyway. Not a healthy fighter left standing, dear, sorry t’say. ‘Bout a score in my care. We’re hid in the copse we passed back midafternoon, ‘case they decide to go... hunting.” The healer’s voice was flat at that last, showing her opinion of people who would hunt their own kind after a victory.

Isana sighed and let her eyes close. “The rest of the army?”

“Some captured. A few more camps like ours about. Don’t worry about that ‘til you can walk on your own. Go on an’ rest, I’ll be around t’wake you when we can move,” Dani continued softly.

Isana grumbled but there was no power in it, and soon slept.

--

In the pale grey of predawn, when shapes appear without their colours, Isana woke to a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Cedric, her lanky young page, sat cross-legged beside the short cot looking as though he’d been mostly dead all night.

“Milady…” he said nervously, “We’ll be moving soon but um, I thought you’d want to know. Scout says he saw Niveman troops capture the Imperatrix…”

Cold wrapped around Isana’s heart. She swallowed hard. Aly.

“You’re sure, Ced?” she croaked.

He nodded mutely, eyes wide with fearful innocence. Isana grasped the edges of the cot with white-knuckled fingers and pulled herself up to seated. The symphony of pain became screams as her muscles railed against movement. Sweat beaded on her brow and she trembled slightly. Ced reached out a hand to steady her.

“Where?” she demanded, rallying strength.

“Report was from Troyes, Lady.”

Isana stared blankly ahead and thought hard. Her heart beat erratically in her throat, the pulse throbbing in her injured leg. What might Nivemus do to her? Had they been a signing party to that prisoner agreement? This was war. They would be taking Alyssa to their prison, of course, so they’d be likely to have to go back through Westmoor. Maybe her unit could intercept! Or at least pass on information on her whereabouts, if any rescue was forthcoming...

“We've got to try, anything. Cedric. Tell any who are alert enough to keep eyes out for Niveman troops heading north. Have that scout report to me, I want to know exactly what they saw. And send Dani to make sure I'm not going to bleed out if I stand up, would you?”

The young page climbed to standing, saluted sharply, and disappeared from the makeshift shelter, leaving Isana alone with her pain and fearful heartache.