51Okay, so obviously I am unable to update regularly and I apologize for that. I just can't make any promises about when I will update. So for anyone still reading here is that long chapter I promised eons ago.
Chapter eight
Dustfinger woke early in the morning when the grass was still wet with dew. A few people were up though as Dustfinger exited his tent. He stretched his limbs and wandered off from the camp, heading towards the well that lay just outside the low wall surrounding the village. Some fairies were flying around it and Dustfinger ended up having to gently shoo them away from his hair as he brought a bucket of water up from the well.
"Morning." Dustfinger turned to see the Prince walking towards him with his bear naturally lumbering behind him.
"You're up early," Dustfinger observed, "especially when you couldn't have gone to bed until at least after midnight."
The Prince shrugged, walking up beside him and leaning against the well. "I couldn't get much sleep."
Dustfinger frowned at this but didn't say anything as he started to use the water in the bucket to wash his face Prince had been acting strange lately, always conversing with several men among the strolling players, not to mention going off during early in the evening and not returning until late at night when most of the players had already gone to bed. Dustfinger kept expecting him to say something but he just continued to look off into the distance with a contemplative expression.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Something on your mind?"
The Prince looked over at him, arching one brow. "What makes you ask that?"
"Well you certainly don't seem to be here to chat or use the water," he said, lowering the bucket down into the well's dark waters. He turned from the well so he could face his friend fully. "I've know you long enough to know when something's going on with you. Now, what is it?"
The Prince stared at him for a moment before a small smile stole over his lips. "You do know me too well. Alright then, I suppose you've noticed that I seem to be meeting with a certain few of the strolling players lately?"
Dustfinger nodded. "Yes, as well as your late night excursions."
"I've formed a group with them. We're going to help those that everyone in power refuses to help. Starting with preventing a few fire-raiser attacks." The Prince's voice was calm but there was a fierceness in his eyes that Dustfinger recognized only too well. It was the same fierceness that always appeared when he saw children begging on the streets or an innocent person hanging from the gallows.
Dustfinger sighed, he should have suspected his friend would do something like this sooner or later. "If you've told me this for my opinion then I think you're being a noble fool, Prince. This isn't a minstrel's song, heroes die in real life, remember." Dustfinger thought back to when they were both children, performing in one of the larger villages in Argenta. There had been a man who had stolen money from one of the richest men in the village, distributing it among the women and children of the village and strolling players alike. Days later he was caught and they had seen his body hanging from the gallows as they left. He wondered if the Prince still remembered that.
However, the Prince just smiled at him. "I expected you say something like that, but I know the risks and I also know very well how to prevent myself from ending up on the wrong end of a rope. You probably know better than anyone that I'd be dead by now if the Adder knew half the things I've done."
"Still, if you want to play noble robber are you prepared to deal with the consequences if you get caught?"
"You mean death?" The Prince smiled the same smile Dustfinger had become so accustomed to while growing up. It was the smile he always wore when pulling some prank or making trouble for one of the soldiers. "Yes, I'm prepared to die if I get caught."
Dustfinger threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, since you're so bent on signing your own death warrant I guess there's nothing else that I can say to change your mind. Honestly Prince, you have the heart of a child, death is probably an afterthought for you."
The Prince chuckled before his face grew serious. At first Dustfinger thought that the Prince was thinking about the consequences of what he was about to do then he spole up. "We're actually going to try to prevent a fire-raiser attack on a farm tonight," the Prince hesitated for a second before continuing,"we could use your help."
Dustfinger blinked a few times in surprise before being able to form a sentence. "Why? Do you really need to fight fire with fire? Not to mention I've already made a few enemies with the fire-raisers and..." Dustfinger trailed off at that, too ashamed to finish, to tell his friend that he was really to afraid to get himself involved in such matters.
"I realize what I'm asking," the Prince said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "but it's not fighting I want you for. I want you to create a barrier of fire between the fire-raisers and the farm. I'll understand if you don't want to help though."
No, he didn't but the thought of refusing to help his friend sent stabs of guilt in his heart. The Black Prince had always helped him get out of trouble all through their childhood, how could he refuse to help him when he really needed it? Then Dustfinger thought of the guilt that would follow him around for the rest of his life if the Prince was killed that night and he could have prevented it.
"Ok," he said, finally, "just tell me where to be though do expect me to wield a sword against any of those blood hounds."
The Prince's face broke out into a grin."Don't worry I'll leave you to do what you do best."
Dustfinger just shook his head. "I hope you know what you're about to do."
"Oh, I do, the fire-raisers won't know what hit them though."
The moon was high in the sky as Dustfinger crouched down near undergrowth surrounding the small little farm. He was just one in a group of about fifteen men crouched down among the trees and bushes. Naturally at the head of the group was the Prince, telling everyone the plan and where they should be.
"I want a group of six up at the house just in case any men get through our first layer of protection. The rest need to be at the base of the hill to keep the fire-raisers away. This is a smaller farm so there should be fewer men to deal with but none the less I want everyone to rub soot on their faces so any that get away won't recognize you on the street, understand?"
The men all nodded and got up to take their places. "Where do you want me," Dustfinger asked the Prince once they were all gone.
The Prince placed clapped him on the shoulder. "You I want up near the house by the second group of men, that way if any fire-raisers somehow get close enough to the field and house you can put down any flames they create that way the rest don't have to worry about it."
Dustfinger nodded. "Alright, but one thing has been bothering me. Capricorn is not one to give up easily, what are you going to do if he sends an even larger group of men to raze the farm, or worst decides to make an example of it and sends hi shadow?"
"I know, that's why I'm teaching the farmer and his family to hide their food and other neccesities. That way if worst comes to worse and Capricorn does send a larger group we can't defend against then at least they'll still have their valuables even if their property is burned down." He shrugged. "It's not perfect but for now that's the best I can come up with."
"It's more than most people would do." Dustfinger knew that it was more than he would do. In his heart he felt that he was a coward. If he saw that it was convenient he would help someone in need, but to go so far out of his way? No, he didn't think he could ever do that.
"We better take our places," the Prince said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Dustfinger gave a short nod then trodded off up the hill toward the group of men gathered near the house. He felt strangely light without the familiar weight of his pack. Deciding it would only hinder him he had decided to leave it at the player's camp and Roxane had agreed to look after it even though he could tell she detested Gwin who made his home in the pack. The though of Roxane caused a his heart to throb in a way that was both painful and pleasant. He wondered if he would see her again.
When he reached the group one of them stepped forward and shoved a knife into his hands. Dustfinger looked down at it in alarm. "What's this for?"
"Just in case your fire isn't enough to protect you," he said simply turning away before Dustfinger could protest.
Dustfinger had never liked knives or any other kind of weapon, most likely because of the years spent watching soldiers and criminals using them for their own means. He had never had any use for them anyway and hoped that he never would. Still looking at it with unease he stuck the knife in his belt. No, sooner had he done that did the men he stood with begin to stir and stare down the hill where the Prince and the rest of his men stood. He followed their line of sight and saw that the fire-raisers had arrived.
Capricorn hadn't sent many men, and of course why should he for such a small farm? There was only about ten of them from what Dustfinger could see. They were standing opposite the Prince's men among the treeline. Agitated voices carried up the hill though Dustfinger couldn't make out what they were saying. There was silence for a moment before the fire-raisers voices commenced again and Dustfinger could only assume that the Prince had said something. The conversation obviously didn't last long for he saw the unmistakable glint of swords being drawn in the dim moonlight. The Prince's bear let out a roar and the two groups clashed.
The men near Dustfinger watched the fight with bated breath, their own weapons in their hands. Dustfinger kept his eyes locked on the Prince, which would have been difficult with the dim light had the bear not been tearing at any enemy that got near him. The rest of the men seemed to be holding their own well enough though he did see a few go down causing his stomach to twist unpleasantly.
The Prince seemed to be battling one of the more talented fighters while his bear dispatched an enemy trying to charge him from the side. The Prince parried a blow and was about to deliver the final blow when Dustfinger caught sight of a fire-raiser coming at the Prince from behind. Dust finger quickly hissed a few words in fire causing flames to leap up between the man and the Prince.
The man dropped his sword in surprise just as the Prince delivered the final blow to the enemy in front of him. He turned when he felt the heat of the flames on his back and saw the man running in terror. The Prince looked up the hill and the flames illuminated his grin.
Dustfinger felt the tension leave his soldiers as he realized that all the fire-raisers had either been killed or ran. Then came the strange hissing sound and a gurgled cry to his right. Dustfinger looked down in surprise to see one the men lying on the ground with an arrow through his neck. The blood looked almost black in the night. Dustfinger barely even had time to register the horror of it as he heard the sound of running feet directly behind him. He turned along with the rest of the men to see another group of black jackets running up the hill toward them looking very much like a flock of crows in flight. Dustfinger stumbled back as the rest of the men ran to meet the fire-raisers. Down below the Prince and the others were quickly advancing up the hill to help the other group.
Dustfinger stood and with a shaking hand pulled the knife out of his belt though he handled it so clumsily he knew that it would be of little defense against one of the fire-raisers. The Prince and the others reached the top of the hill and began fighting along side the others. Dustfinger just stood back while the fight unfolded, watching as friend and foe alike fell. A few broke away from the fight, bearing torches and a bottle full of clear liquid that Dustfinger knew only too well.
He let out a curse. Of course, they were still going to try set the farm on fire despite the men ready to kill them if they did. Wouldn't want to dissapoint their master. One of them held out the torch while the other began to pour the liquid onto it. This is it, Dustfinger though. Time for me to play my part.
He looked around quickly to make sure none of the fire-raisers took any notice of him and then looked back to the two fire-raisers attempting to set the little house ablaze. He crept surreptiously to the front gate that was merely just a wooden fence and crouched down. His heart pounded in his chest as heard the battle that raged only ten feet away from him, and looked on at the two fire-raisers. One held the torch out as the other began to pour the clear liquid on it. When that was done the man who had doused the torch pulled out a piece of flint and with his knife began to strike it.
A few sparks rained out onto the torch and began to catch quickly but Dustfinger spoke to fire just as fast, willing it to stay asleep. The fire-raisers frown and tried again and DUstfinger again whispered what little flames to spring up to die back down. He saw their lips move but couldn't hear what they were saying, but judging by the expression on their faces they were probably letting out a stream of curses. Dustfinger pressed against one of the wooden posts wishing he could sind into it as one of them turned, gesticulating angrily. He tried to crouch lower to the ground but the movement caught the attention of the fire-raiser and his eyes locked onto Dustfinger.
The man drew his sword from his side and began to advanced toward him then stopped and smiled cruelly. Dustfinger frowned then felt the back of his neck prickle and turned just in time to see the fire-raiser behind him raise his sword. With a startled cry he rolled to his side just as the fire-raiser struck down with his sword managing to slice the side of Dustfinger's arm. He cried out in pain as the fire-raiser turned and advanced towards him once again, prompting him to quickly scramble to his feet and run in the opposite direction.
He headed down the hill toward the safety of the treeline where it would be difficult for the man to pursue him with a sword among the crowded trees. He wasn't he even sure that he was still being chased but he didn't dare look back to check, he just kept running and didn't stop until he was well into the forest where he fond refuge in the limbs of a tree, nimbly climbing up it in spite of his injured arm. As he lay against one of the gigantic limbs trying to catch his breath he listened for the sounds of footsteps and surveyed the ground below him for his pursuer. When a few minutes had past and still no one had come near his tree, Dustfinger let his body relaxed slightly and closed his eyes, trying to let the sounds of the forest soothe him and make him forget his fear and pain.
Dustfinger wasn't sure how long he laid like that when the sound of footsteps reached him. His eyes flew open and he expecting to see one of the fire-raisers appear below him when he heard a familiar voice calling out. "Dustfinger! Dustfinger, are you near?"
Relief flooded him at the sight of the Prince and his bear appaering through the foliage with another man with them.
"Should you really be calling out like that," asked the Prince's companion warily. "There's no telling if some of Capricorn's hounds are still around."
The Prince dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "I don't care he could be hurt or worse."
"Prince," Dustfinger called out, his voice sounding hoarse in his own ears. Both the Prince and the man jumped at the sound of his voice and began looking around for it's source.
"Over here." Dustfinger climbed down from his perch, wincing lightly at the pain in his arm.
Relief flooded the Prince's face when he saw him. "Thank god. When you didn't come back after I killed the man chasing you I was afraid one of the other fire-raisers had carried you of to their fortress."
Dustfinger slid down from one of the lower branches and landed lightly on his feet. "I didn't look back when he started to chase me so I just assumed I was still being pursued. Are they all dead?"
The Prince shook his head. "No, there were a few of them that ran away, so I'm sure Capricorn will be hearing about this sooner rather than later that's why we'll be keeping a close eye on the farm."
At the mention of the little farm house the image of the two men with the torches flashed before Dustfinger's eyes. "Did they manage to catch anything on fire?"
"Almost, after you left they managed to let some of their torches but we took care of them before they could do any damage," the Prince said.
"Unfortunately the man who was supposed to keep them from lighting anything ran away," the man standing next to the Black Prince remarked sourly.
Dustfinger felt shame rise up in him and it took everything he had not to look away from the man's accusing glare. "Yes, unfortunately the man he was supposed to keep the fire-raisers' flames sleepy couldn't defend himself against a sword with nothing but a knife. But I'm sure you could have, right?" Dustginer flashed him a mocking smile causing the man's glare to intensify.
"Dustfinger did what he was supposed to, he only did what anyone else would do in his place," the Prince told the man sharply. "Now, go tell the others to make camp near the farm and to establish a watch. We certainly don't need any re-grouped fire-raisers attacking us while we sleep." The man nodded shortly and walked off among the trees.
The Prince looked back at Dustfinger and the anger on his face turned back into concern. "You're bleeding." Dustfinger looked down at his arm to see blood running down it. "Do you have anything to bind it with?"
Dustfinger shook his head. "No, I would if I had my pack but I left it back at the camp with Roxane."
"I'm sure we'll be able to find something once we get back to the camp, speaking of which, we better start heading off."
Dustfinger nodded and together they walked off, the bear trailing behind them. The whole way Dustfinger kept trying to think of a way to apologize for running away but every time he was about to open his mouth his courage would fail him and he would remain silent. After arriving at the makeshift camp they were able to find a piece of material to bind his wound, though the Prince thought that they would probably have to cauterize it soon. With that lovely prospect in mind Dustfinger went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
The next day they set out and by night they had reached the strolling player's encampment. Once there Dustfinger and two other men who had been injured had to sit and frit their teeth while one of the motley folk's physicians cauterized their wounds. Afterwards, Dustfinger had happily wandered into one of the tents and lain down. He had never cared much for a home and had happily traveled the road all his life whether alone or in company it didn't matter. After the fight with the fire-raisers being surrounded by familiar faces and the colorful tents gave him a sense of contentment he was unfamiliar with.
"Dustfinger?" Had it been any other voice that called out to him he would have ignored it, but this melodious voice caused his eyes to fly right open..
He sat up and saw Roxane standing at the tent's entrance, the soft moonlight outlining her frame. "Yes?"
"I brought back your pack," she said holding it up for him to see. "Gwin was in it earlier but I think he's run off to hunt." Dustfinger grinned at the distaste in her voice when she mentioned Gwin.
"Yes, he does that every night. He usually comes scurrying back around dawn." He stood and took the bag from her, their hands just barely touching sending a spark of electricity through his hand.
"What happened to your arm," she asked. nodding to the bandage on his arm.
"I cut it," he said flatly, omitting the circumstances of how he got it. "One of the physicians had to cauterize it."
Roxane furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "Does it hurt?"
He shrugged. "A little."
"I think I know something that could make it better. Come on." She took him by the wrist and led him to the outskirts of the forest that lay only a short way from the camp. "Do you have a knife?"
Dustfinger smiled. "Why Roxane I hope you didn't drag me out here in the dark just to kill me."
She laughed. "Don't worry I'm no evil witch in disguise."
He pulled out the knife given to him by one of the Prince's men and handed it to her. She knelt down by a group of green prickly plants and cut of on of it's leaves, then sliced off the thorns along the edges and sliced it open revealing a green, gel-like substance inside. She gently removed the bandage on his arm and smeared some of the gel onto it.
"It'll help the burn heal faster and take some of the sting out," she explained.
"Thank you, this will definitely come in handy later with my career."
"Did you get this when you went out with the Black Prince and those other man," she asked somewhat abruptly.
Dustfinger avoided her gaze. "Yes, we had a bit of a run in with Capricorn's men I guess you could say."
"That explains the injuries," she said, without a trace in surprise in her voice. "You must be very lucky to escape those bloodhounds twice now."
"Yes but by running away. I'm starting to think the Prince should find a friend who is less of a coward." Dustfinger tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but knew he didn't succeed
"You're not a coward Dustfinger." He looked over to her but she was busy re-bandaging his arm.
"You haven't know me long enough to know that."
"I've seen you when you get into trouble Dustfinger and I can tell you that you are not a coward." Her voice was firm and when she looked back up at him her chin was jutted out stubbornly.
"Well, I'm certainly not brave," he argued trying to make see the truth. He didn't want Roxane to have any falsehoods about him.
"You don't purposely put yourself in harms way."
"That-" She cut him off with a sigh and then something happened that Dustfinger didn't think he could ever dream about. She kissed him. It was quick but it was enough to leave him breathless. She looked up at him with a smile playing on her lips and he wanted to say something witty but all he could do was stare at her with his mouth hanging open in surprise.
"You're not a coward and that's the end of it. Now, be sure to put some more of that plant on your burn tomorrow morning."
"Okay."
She flashed him a smile and walked back to the camp. A few minutes later Dustfinger managed to come back to his senses enough to walk back to the tents. When he finally laid down to sleep he could still feel her lips on his.