Post by spitfire on Aug 8, 2010 12:20:00 GMT -5
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to ALL:
Pounding hooves and the distinctive skelloch of Scotsmen having good fun..or working up their way to it...disturbed the relative peace of the dreary, gray afternoon. A glen usually teaming with the chirping of birds and the sounds of other wildlife was quiet, as if its inhabitants were holding their collective breaths, their inate sense telling them that something was about to happen.
Ahead of the dozen or so riders, small feet pounded the ground with equal, if not more, ferver, fear and the instinct of survivor pushing the quarry to the limits of her endurance, a vision of fluttering dark blue skirts and long raven hair against the backdrop of greening fields and steel sky. Were it summer, she might have had a chance by hiding in tall sweetgrass, alas, spring gave her no cover, no help.
An ankle twisted and Kendra stumbled, going down with a soft cry and landing flat on her belly, chin nocking painfully against the hard ground. Pain that was ignored, as was the stitch in her side, her own harsh breath was loud in her ears, as was the staccato beat of her heart. There was no time wasted on looking back. She pushed herself up to her feet, crying out as she stepped on the injured ankle and bit back the burning fire as she forced herself forward. She hobbled at first, and slowly regained speed. She was almost there, if she could make it to the woods bordering the Campbell's land and hers, the magical void would be lifted and she'd be able to shimmer to safety. Until then, she was nothing more than an ordinary woman who's dagger would be of no use against the seasonsed warriors now pursuing her.
She knew they were gaining, fleet footed as she was, Kendra was no match for the sturdy, barrel chested warhorses of the Highlanders and she pushed harder, long skirt and petticoats catching on brambles, the tugs and tears ignored in her heedless flight. She had to get back, if only for Brianna, now a two year old, towheaded toddler. Kendra was all Bree had in the world, the child was all Kendra had left. If she didn't get back, not only would the land be theirs for the taking..the things they could possibly do to her daught--.........the thought was interuped by a surge of blinding, yet oddly familiar pain, an arrow bitting deep into her shoulder, the force of it knocking the wee witch off her feet and sending her flying several feet. She landed again with a jarring thud, face first into the grass. This time, she did not regain her feet. So close. Two dozen feet ahead of her, trees rose majestically towards the drizzling sky, new spring leaves flitting in the wind.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*The whoops and hollers of the Highlanders chased you to the ground as the arrow met it's mark, bringing an end to this chase, they close the distance quickly, the first and fastest of their number breaking ranks to swing his axe over his head, about to bring it down apon yours, his wordless cry of victory loud, terrifying....and short. You'd hear the whistle and thunk of a well placed arrow biting into flesh, then the gurgle of a man's last breath. Should you turn, you may even recognise the fletching before the Highlander falls, an arrow neatly through his throat. The other men taper to a halt, their weapons raised as they back into a better protected group, more whistles follow the first as from the woods a volley of arrows, five at most, tear through the treeline and bite into the bodies of the grouped men, felling them as easily as they would you* "SHOW YOURSELVES COWARDS! CHAAAARGE!" *Their leader raises his weapon to signal a charge their greatly deminished ranks flooding forward in a last ditch attempt, charging the five figures emerging from the woods, long cloaks, metal and leather armour, one even bears a similar arm piece to a man that you hadn't seen in so many years....It simply couldn't be true*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She'd had the wind knocked out of her, blurred spots of colour dancing behind her closed eyes. Through the haze of roaring blood and pounding heart she hears the highlander approach and half turns on herself despite the pain it caused. She would have rolled completely aside..or tried to, to avoid his axe but before she could, she heard the whistle and thunk of another well placed arrow and rolled the other way, hands covering her head lest him topple on top of her. There'd been no time to notice the fletching before more arrows rained and the group charged. It happened so fast, only one word resounding in her mind. Safety. She tried to stumble to her knees, to avoid arrows from one side, pawing hooves from the other...and suddenly there they were.
Whatever breath had found itself into her lungs was stolen again, locked in place by shock and jarring physical pain. Her vikings. Nearly two years it had been since she'd seen them last. Brianna had been..four..five months old? A ween they could cradle in their hands, in another land. Another place. Always another place. She almost had to bite back a sob. As it were, she managed to stay get on her knees and literally crawled towards them..to get behind them..out of harms way.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*The men step forward slowly, nocking and firing arrows into the oncoming Scots, not looking to you as they let you through to rest behind them. Just before the two ranks meet, bows are discarded behind them and swords drawn with the easy flick of practiced swordsmen, each picking their targets and moving in, hard. The leader of the vikings a majestic figure, tall, muscled, his arm gleaming in the daylight, his wordless orders and commanding presence, there was no way to mistake him for another, the battle starts quickly, the clang of swords meeting and locking, grinding against one another in vicious combat. Kerrigan steps in, bringing his arm up to stop the leader of the highlanders in his tracks, catching the head of his axe just under the blade, his own sword sinking into the man's stomach and sinking deep. Though outmatched in numbers, their skill saves them. The axe pulled aside and the bladed underside of his gauntlet comes down to sever the aretery in the man's neck, a twist and a pivot throwing the body aside and freeing up his blade as he moves onto another, his men accomplishing feats of a similar nature. You could tell already how this fight would end*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She kept her head down as she passed the Danish warriors, staying low even once their paths had crossed. If she held her arm to her side, the pain wasn't too debilitating, allowing her to move into the trees for cover. She crawled into the woods a good two dozen feet and sat with her back against a sturdy tree, making sure the thick trunk shielded her from any more stray arrows. Her left hand gripped her right arm, holding it to her. Sweat dotted her brow, teeth were gritted as she carefully leaned over and looked back. Newly green bushes and the trees hid the battlefield from sight but the clang of steel meeting steel reached her ears, loud and grating.
The border was nearby, she could fell the magic prickling at her skin again, welcoming after the numbness the void created. She was still useless to her rescuers. Even if she crossed into her own lands, any magic thrown their way would simply bounce back, rendering it completely ineffective. The Campbell's had seen to it.
Her eyes closed and she moved back agains the tree, head againts it. Her first thought was for the irony...Sassenachs protecting a nobleborn scotswoman from her own countrymen.....her second was for the man himself. A wound that was still surpringly tender to the touch. At the risk of being too sentimental..he had been her first love..and first love lost. How is it, he always found her, no matter where she was..whether by his own doing or by fate's sense of amusement..how it is, it was always after she'd lost so much.....
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Sword up to block, the hard thunk of metal on metal jarring his arm, a push to off balance his opponent, a pivot, his blade severing tendons and rending flesh at the knee, another pivot as he goes down, the shaprened point at the back of his arm robbing him of his life, forcing his enemy to the grave. His men made short work of the last, demoralised Scots, then formed up again, the last remaining Scotsman turns to flee, to let his Laird know of the Saxons in the woods. Their own victory roar chasing him as his had you. Kerrigan turns, sheathing his sword and nods to one of his men, who fetches his bow and nocks it. There would be no report, that was assured. The remaining men check for survivors as he moves toward the woods, following your trail. You may even hear him approach as he stops beside you, kneeling down to check the wound, gently* Magister.....Are you badly hurt?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
After the sound of death, the silence was eery. hairs prickling at the back of her neck. She heard him approach...wasn't entirely sure it was him, she even refrained from brushing her consciousness against his to find out. It was only when he was by her side and spoke that she opened her eyes, haunted pools of vivid violet that widened slightly when she met his, the sight of him still startling. The arrow had embedded itself deeply into her shoulder without passing clear through, she flinched as his hand neared her, then forced herself to relax. Taking care of this would hurt, there were no two ways about it. Avoiding it would help nothing. Kendra drew in a breath, hand still gripping her arm.
No..all things considered. I think I twisted my ankle as well.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Even his smell was the same, leather and the woods. His scent making it clear he belonged here, that earthy smell that followed him around. His gloved hand feels gently around the skin of the wound, making sure nothing was broken before he nods, amber eyes tracing your form for other, as yet unknown injuries. When he's satisfied, he offers a hand to help you up* We have horses, you shall ride. We'll take care of the injury when we are better equipped.
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
He leaned forward to probe her wound and she turned her head away, against the rush of memories his scent evoked. She didn't know whether to thank the gods or curse them. He had rescued her, yet again..but...damn him. Damn them all.........She looked quite the same as the last time he'd seen her, short, slender and curvy, raven tresses down the the middle of her back, tangled from her escape, face and hands nearly almost stained with something or other..this time dirt and grime. Blood stains the back of her dress, where the arrow pierced skin, head turning back when he spoke, her face carefully schooled. She nodded, slipping a small hand into his gloved one, jaw clenched as she pulled herself up and hopped slightly, not yet putting weight on her foot. All the jostling didn't help her shoulder any but there was no help for it. The pain was enough to make her dizy for a moment but when she was fully standing, she tested it gingerly, keeping ahold of him as she stepped onto it. She took a hestiant step, then another and nodded to herself again, letting go of him, determined to make her way to the horses on her own.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*His armour was the same as usual, the steel long bracer, the leather and metal plate he wore was light, for scouting and mobile battle, the symbol of his clan etched into the metal. He makes sure you can walk before letting you go, his men gathering back around him, one handing over his bow before they set out to lead you to the horses a short distance away through the trees. He offers no explination for why he's here, nor does he pass comment on him finding you at such a lucky time. He simply...walks.*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
Thankfully, she was used to his silence and she found it far from disquieting. She hobbled down a path, still gripping that arm so it wouldn't move, a thousand questions burning a path through her mind. She never gave voice to any of them. Not yet. To keep herself distracted, she instead studied the men he'd brought with him, doing so through lowered lashes, looking for familiar faces, and changes in them if she found some. She'd missed them. All of them, quite thoroughly, but that too was kept quiet.
When they found the horses she slowed, unsure as to which one to go to and quite certain she would be unable to mount alone. Twas then that she lifted her head and looked to their leader, a man who's name she'd yet to say, her voice as schooled as her face.
að halda er a dagur frá hér, (the keep is a day's ride from here) she said to him in his native tongue, her pronounciation much better than it had been.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*You'd remember two of them, one of them sporting a new and interesting scar running from under his chin to under and along past his bottom lip. It gave his face a new shape, but it was recognisable. The other had been a younger boy, a fledgeling man in his party, proving himself for the first time. Now he wore his beard in a braid and his hair was hewn short. He looked more like the man he was to become and his axe still dripped blood. Kerrigan and his men work together to get you apon a war horse, it's size and bulk make that no easy feat. The youngest of the group, the boy you once knew slides up behind you, keeping you as comfortable as he can by not jarring the arrow, but still close enough you wouldn't fall nor would hamper his grip on the reigns, you'd see him smile as he hears his native tongue, nodding his approval of your pronunciation....And your ability to do more than join in with dirty limerics* Tjaldvagnar okkar er nær, við munum meðhöndla þig þegar við komu. (Our camp is near, we'll treat you when we arrive) *His men mount and with a hiss a clip of his heels he starts off, his men following. A sedate pace that doesn't worsen your injuries* Hvers vegna varstu út svo langt? (Why were you out so far?)
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
The helped her up and she bore it well, swallowing whatever sounds she would have made, obviously intent on showing them nothing even if they had seen..everything once apon a time. She was paler by the time she was settled, forehead glistening, skirts tucked against her knees.
þakka þér (thank you), she thanked them in a gritty voice, drawing in a full breath. Soon they were off and she swayed lightly in the saddle. His camp..of course...he always had a camp....his question refocused her mind and she looked to him, answering quietly. I had business with tha Campbells. It would seem they were not in agreement.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
The people of this land change their minds too often. *His reply is said with as little judgement as can be stored in words designed for such. He leads the riders, your own horse close to his on his left. His eyes and those of his men do not leave the forest around them* Where are your men? Did you not bring a retinue?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
A retinue? she scoffed softly, ignoring the rest of what he'd said.
I have no retinue. No men. Tis but me, Brianna and a housekeeper.
It was said matter of factly, without any trace of the bitterness she felt, eyes ahead on the well worn path, her breathing easing a little once she felt the magic again.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He looks to you and raises his eyebrow. This was a change and unexpected by more than half. There was so much happening the last time he had seen you, people and honour. Those did not just vanish entirely in the space of two short years* What happened to your people? *Maybe it was foolish of him to think that those who had made homes of your patch of land would follow you to another*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
He looked at her, seeing only her profile as she kept her eyes to the front. When they'd been together last, it had been after Kado's death, but the sense of loss about her had deepened, almost poignantly so; worn heavily about slender shoulders, the depth of it reflected in the eyes she kept so carefully averted for now. She leaned forward a little, lest she give in to her body's demand for rest and relief and lean back against the young man at her back. She didn't know about him, but her shoulder would certainly not appreciate it.
My......fathair's people you mean. They are still in Godwick, serving Evan well I imagine. I stayed on Aeren after you left.
She said nothing of her mother's death, or war, no longer having contact with her family or why...Dar...Adrian..the babies.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He'd left to a war of his own. A battle with more casualites than his people could afford. The men he brought with him the only men that could be spared for the moment. It was a story he would perhaps share with you, but not yet. No, not yet.* I see, so now you reside alone in a castle built for many. Has no one come to join you? No men at arms of people of this land? *Up ahead was the camp, to the untrained or those who lack perception, there would be nothing more than a small clearing and some foliage, but you'd seen his handiwork before, no doubt remembering it well*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
No, there is no one
She replied evenly. No one to work the fields, no one to protect, or help..certainly no one to speak..no man..no husband..for her in her bid to ensure a peaceful life amidst the clans. No man..brother or father to even make the best political match that would ensure her lands would be safe greedy clans. Eyes swept the trees and bushes as they approached the clearing, knowing well what she'd find there. Kendra hesitated, inwardly struggling for a moment, then voicing the first of her questions.
Is your wife here with you?, she meant Leyen of course. Kerrigan's path had been laid out for him, she had no doubt that he'd followed through like the dutiful son and leader of men. It did not mean she wished to be faced with the proof of it, especially considering their last meeting.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He pauses at your question, halfway off his horse, his face for a moment seems almost to hold some kind of sadness, a quiet hurt that he couldn't quiet voice, but he shakes his head and continues to dismount* No, she rests at home. I would imagine in the garden. *His horse is tied to a tree and a feed bag hung before he moves to uncover his tent and fetch some gauze, his men helping you down and conversing quietly, reserved and still. No bawdy songs of victory today, no mead and meat. Just quiet talk*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She hadn't been watching him, didn't see the look on his face and with her shields up as much as they could be, didn't feel the rush of sadness. She nods quietly as the men help her down, legs giving out momentarily as soon as her feet touched the ground, her face paled again, the men tightening their grip on her until she was able to stand. She thanked them and walked stiffly to a stump and sat, one hand loosening the stays of her dress, eyes roamong, taking in the crude camp and all that was achingly familiar.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Indeed, space for the men and horses, a pit for the fire which someone is now building to heat water which is pulled from a creek not far off, one of the other men going off to fetch it. It was the most basic of camps and looked quite poor in comparison to the last one you saw. Kerrigan returns with bandage and a pouch which you could guess contained supplies for healing.* I wont lie magister, this will hurt. *He'd avoided using your name too, the whole time he'd been here he'd almost dreaded seeing you again, explaining the situation as it stood. He offered you a piece of leather wrapped around a thick piece of wood to bite down apon*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
It already does, she murmured, violet eyes coming to rest of the leathered wood. She took it from him, turning it over in her fingers and giving him a nod, slipping the wood into her mouth and inhaling deeply before exhaling and ridding her body of as much tension as she could before he started. The last time he'd done this, she'd been unconscious. A blessing to be sure.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*This time would be worse, the last time the arrows had punctured your skin on both sides, a fortunite thing, for it could be removed easier, but in this guise, it'd gained a grip on your skin it would not easily reliquish, removing it with a hard pull would only do more damage, so he had to cut, which would be far more controlled. His dagger was given to one of his men, who placed it in the pot of water bubbling slowly over the stove, the weapon had been used to skin animals and men alike and he knew well the words of his father's physic. Who believed that a blade was more dirty than the eye could behold, often using different blades for each patient he had to cut apon. A poultice was applied around the wound, one that numbed pain and loosened the muscles. It was cold, extremely so, but soon it faded the pain to that of a dull ache, comparable to pins and needles. Words are exchanged behind your back, talk of an invasion, survivors and war. Too quiet for you to catch it all. When his knife is ready it's handed to him, the worst of the water flicked off and the heat faded for a few moments before he starts. Quick, precise cuts around the skin, widening the gap around the arrowhead. The metal is then pulled from your skin, carefully, more painful no doubt, but less damaging. The sounds and the thick smell of copper filling the air less than pleasent. A second, foul smelling poultice that burns as fire is applied to the wound before he starts to wrap it as best he can. All in all it was painful, tremendously so, but less than it could have*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
Kendra carefully tugged her hair away, draping it over her opposite shoulder. She watched his hands as he prepared, following them as they moved about, as they applied the cold poultice, she sniffed at it, trying to identify the herbs used..feverfew...yarrow..maybe some fireweed. She felt the prickling, eyes on her shoulder with a slight frown creasing her brow.
When Kerrigan's hand came back with the blade, she looked away. She'd expected the pain as he cut through skin, it tore through her like flames licking at her skin and her nostrils flared on a shallow inhale, teeth biting down on the leather in her mouth. She didn't make a sound though, beyond the sharpness of her breath as she inhaled and exhaled, eyes fixed on a tree across the clearing, small fists gripping the fabric of her dress at her lap. Soon, perspiration was dripping down her cheeks, her face white as linen. None too soon, the cutting part was done and when he started tugging on the shaft, she swayed, her vision blurring. Her jaw ached from clenching so hard, blood..her blood teased her nose and when he applied the second poultice she reared back with a gasp, the small stick dropping to the ground, her vision blurred even more, she swayed precariously and right before she slumped forward and into blissful unconsciousness, she uttered one pain laden question. Why d'ye come back Kerrigan?
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in a private chamber
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*When you awake you'd be lying on your font, wrapped up in your own bed. Your dress had been removed and replaced with some nightclothes. Most likely by the housekeeper. The room was empty bar yourself and the light of early morning was cutting through the window. You could most likely hear the sounds of sparring far below you in the yard*
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to ALL:
Pounding hooves and the distinctive skelloch of Scotsmen having good fun..or working up their way to it...disturbed the relative peace of the dreary, gray afternoon. A glen usually teaming with the chirping of birds and the sounds of other wildlife was quiet, as if its inhabitants were holding their collective breaths, their inate sense telling them that something was about to happen.
Ahead of the dozen or so riders, small feet pounded the ground with equal, if not more, ferver, fear and the instinct of survivor pushing the quarry to the limits of her endurance, a vision of fluttering dark blue skirts and long raven hair against the backdrop of greening fields and steel sky. Were it summer, she might have had a chance by hiding in tall sweetgrass, alas, spring gave her no cover, no help.
An ankle twisted and Kendra stumbled, going down with a soft cry and landing flat on her belly, chin nocking painfully against the hard ground. Pain that was ignored, as was the stitch in her side, her own harsh breath was loud in her ears, as was the staccato beat of her heart. There was no time wasted on looking back. She pushed herself up to her feet, crying out as she stepped on the injured ankle and bit back the burning fire as she forced herself forward. She hobbled at first, and slowly regained speed. She was almost there, if she could make it to the woods bordering the Campbell's land and hers, the magical void would be lifted and she'd be able to shimmer to safety. Until then, she was nothing more than an ordinary woman who's dagger would be of no use against the seasonsed warriors now pursuing her.
She knew they were gaining, fleet footed as she was, Kendra was no match for the sturdy, barrel chested warhorses of the Highlanders and she pushed harder, long skirt and petticoats catching on brambles, the tugs and tears ignored in her heedless flight. She had to get back, if only for Brianna, now a two year old, towheaded toddler. Kendra was all Bree had in the world, the child was all Kendra had left. If she didn't get back, not only would the land be theirs for the taking..the things they could possibly do to her daught--.........the thought was interuped by a surge of blinding, yet oddly familiar pain, an arrow bitting deep into her shoulder, the force of it knocking the wee witch off her feet and sending her flying several feet. She landed again with a jarring thud, face first into the grass. This time, she did not regain her feet. So close. Two dozen feet ahead of her, trees rose majestically towards the drizzling sky, new spring leaves flitting in the wind.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*The whoops and hollers of the Highlanders chased you to the ground as the arrow met it's mark, bringing an end to this chase, they close the distance quickly, the first and fastest of their number breaking ranks to swing his axe over his head, about to bring it down apon yours, his wordless cry of victory loud, terrifying....and short. You'd hear the whistle and thunk of a well placed arrow biting into flesh, then the gurgle of a man's last breath. Should you turn, you may even recognise the fletching before the Highlander falls, an arrow neatly through his throat. The other men taper to a halt, their weapons raised as they back into a better protected group, more whistles follow the first as from the woods a volley of arrows, five at most, tear through the treeline and bite into the bodies of the grouped men, felling them as easily as they would you* "SHOW YOURSELVES COWARDS! CHAAAARGE!" *Their leader raises his weapon to signal a charge their greatly deminished ranks flooding forward in a last ditch attempt, charging the five figures emerging from the woods, long cloaks, metal and leather armour, one even bears a similar arm piece to a man that you hadn't seen in so many years....It simply couldn't be true*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She'd had the wind knocked out of her, blurred spots of colour dancing behind her closed eyes. Through the haze of roaring blood and pounding heart she hears the highlander approach and half turns on herself despite the pain it caused. She would have rolled completely aside..or tried to, to avoid his axe but before she could, she heard the whistle and thunk of another well placed arrow and rolled the other way, hands covering her head lest him topple on top of her. There'd been no time to notice the fletching before more arrows rained and the group charged. It happened so fast, only one word resounding in her mind. Safety. She tried to stumble to her knees, to avoid arrows from one side, pawing hooves from the other...and suddenly there they were.
Whatever breath had found itself into her lungs was stolen again, locked in place by shock and jarring physical pain. Her vikings. Nearly two years it had been since she'd seen them last. Brianna had been..four..five months old? A ween they could cradle in their hands, in another land. Another place. Always another place. She almost had to bite back a sob. As it were, she managed to stay get on her knees and literally crawled towards them..to get behind them..out of harms way.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*The men step forward slowly, nocking and firing arrows into the oncoming Scots, not looking to you as they let you through to rest behind them. Just before the two ranks meet, bows are discarded behind them and swords drawn with the easy flick of practiced swordsmen, each picking their targets and moving in, hard. The leader of the vikings a majestic figure, tall, muscled, his arm gleaming in the daylight, his wordless orders and commanding presence, there was no way to mistake him for another, the battle starts quickly, the clang of swords meeting and locking, grinding against one another in vicious combat. Kerrigan steps in, bringing his arm up to stop the leader of the highlanders in his tracks, catching the head of his axe just under the blade, his own sword sinking into the man's stomach and sinking deep. Though outmatched in numbers, their skill saves them. The axe pulled aside and the bladed underside of his gauntlet comes down to sever the aretery in the man's neck, a twist and a pivot throwing the body aside and freeing up his blade as he moves onto another, his men accomplishing feats of a similar nature. You could tell already how this fight would end*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She kept her head down as she passed the Danish warriors, staying low even once their paths had crossed. If she held her arm to her side, the pain wasn't too debilitating, allowing her to move into the trees for cover. She crawled into the woods a good two dozen feet and sat with her back against a sturdy tree, making sure the thick trunk shielded her from any more stray arrows. Her left hand gripped her right arm, holding it to her. Sweat dotted her brow, teeth were gritted as she carefully leaned over and looked back. Newly green bushes and the trees hid the battlefield from sight but the clang of steel meeting steel reached her ears, loud and grating.
The border was nearby, she could fell the magic prickling at her skin again, welcoming after the numbness the void created. She was still useless to her rescuers. Even if she crossed into her own lands, any magic thrown their way would simply bounce back, rendering it completely ineffective. The Campbell's had seen to it.
Her eyes closed and she moved back agains the tree, head againts it. Her first thought was for the irony...Sassenachs protecting a nobleborn scotswoman from her own countrymen.....her second was for the man himself. A wound that was still surpringly tender to the touch. At the risk of being too sentimental..he had been her first love..and first love lost. How is it, he always found her, no matter where she was..whether by his own doing or by fate's sense of amusement..how it is, it was always after she'd lost so much.....
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Sword up to block, the hard thunk of metal on metal jarring his arm, a push to off balance his opponent, a pivot, his blade severing tendons and rending flesh at the knee, another pivot as he goes down, the shaprened point at the back of his arm robbing him of his life, forcing his enemy to the grave. His men made short work of the last, demoralised Scots, then formed up again, the last remaining Scotsman turns to flee, to let his Laird know of the Saxons in the woods. Their own victory roar chasing him as his had you. Kerrigan turns, sheathing his sword and nods to one of his men, who fetches his bow and nocks it. There would be no report, that was assured. The remaining men check for survivors as he moves toward the woods, following your trail. You may even hear him approach as he stops beside you, kneeling down to check the wound, gently* Magister.....Are you badly hurt?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
After the sound of death, the silence was eery. hairs prickling at the back of her neck. She heard him approach...wasn't entirely sure it was him, she even refrained from brushing her consciousness against his to find out. It was only when he was by her side and spoke that she opened her eyes, haunted pools of vivid violet that widened slightly when she met his, the sight of him still startling. The arrow had embedded itself deeply into her shoulder without passing clear through, she flinched as his hand neared her, then forced herself to relax. Taking care of this would hurt, there were no two ways about it. Avoiding it would help nothing. Kendra drew in a breath, hand still gripping her arm.
No..all things considered. I think I twisted my ankle as well.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Even his smell was the same, leather and the woods. His scent making it clear he belonged here, that earthy smell that followed him around. His gloved hand feels gently around the skin of the wound, making sure nothing was broken before he nods, amber eyes tracing your form for other, as yet unknown injuries. When he's satisfied, he offers a hand to help you up* We have horses, you shall ride. We'll take care of the injury when we are better equipped.
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
He leaned forward to probe her wound and she turned her head away, against the rush of memories his scent evoked. She didn't know whether to thank the gods or curse them. He had rescued her, yet again..but...damn him. Damn them all.........She looked quite the same as the last time he'd seen her, short, slender and curvy, raven tresses down the the middle of her back, tangled from her escape, face and hands nearly almost stained with something or other..this time dirt and grime. Blood stains the back of her dress, where the arrow pierced skin, head turning back when he spoke, her face carefully schooled. She nodded, slipping a small hand into his gloved one, jaw clenched as she pulled herself up and hopped slightly, not yet putting weight on her foot. All the jostling didn't help her shoulder any but there was no help for it. The pain was enough to make her dizy for a moment but when she was fully standing, she tested it gingerly, keeping ahold of him as she stepped onto it. She took a hestiant step, then another and nodded to herself again, letting go of him, determined to make her way to the horses on her own.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*His armour was the same as usual, the steel long bracer, the leather and metal plate he wore was light, for scouting and mobile battle, the symbol of his clan etched into the metal. He makes sure you can walk before letting you go, his men gathering back around him, one handing over his bow before they set out to lead you to the horses a short distance away through the trees. He offers no explination for why he's here, nor does he pass comment on him finding you at such a lucky time. He simply...walks.*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
Thankfully, she was used to his silence and she found it far from disquieting. She hobbled down a path, still gripping that arm so it wouldn't move, a thousand questions burning a path through her mind. She never gave voice to any of them. Not yet. To keep herself distracted, she instead studied the men he'd brought with him, doing so through lowered lashes, looking for familiar faces, and changes in them if she found some. She'd missed them. All of them, quite thoroughly, but that too was kept quiet.
When they found the horses she slowed, unsure as to which one to go to and quite certain she would be unable to mount alone. Twas then that she lifted her head and looked to their leader, a man who's name she'd yet to say, her voice as schooled as her face.
að halda er a dagur frá hér, (the keep is a day's ride from here) she said to him in his native tongue, her pronounciation much better than it had been.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*You'd remember two of them, one of them sporting a new and interesting scar running from under his chin to under and along past his bottom lip. It gave his face a new shape, but it was recognisable. The other had been a younger boy, a fledgeling man in his party, proving himself for the first time. Now he wore his beard in a braid and his hair was hewn short. He looked more like the man he was to become and his axe still dripped blood. Kerrigan and his men work together to get you apon a war horse, it's size and bulk make that no easy feat. The youngest of the group, the boy you once knew slides up behind you, keeping you as comfortable as he can by not jarring the arrow, but still close enough you wouldn't fall nor would hamper his grip on the reigns, you'd see him smile as he hears his native tongue, nodding his approval of your pronunciation....And your ability to do more than join in with dirty limerics* Tjaldvagnar okkar er nær, við munum meðhöndla þig þegar við komu. (Our camp is near, we'll treat you when we arrive) *His men mount and with a hiss a clip of his heels he starts off, his men following. A sedate pace that doesn't worsen your injuries* Hvers vegna varstu út svo langt? (Why were you out so far?)
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
The helped her up and she bore it well, swallowing whatever sounds she would have made, obviously intent on showing them nothing even if they had seen..everything once apon a time. She was paler by the time she was settled, forehead glistening, skirts tucked against her knees.
þakka þér (thank you), she thanked them in a gritty voice, drawing in a full breath. Soon they were off and she swayed lightly in the saddle. His camp..of course...he always had a camp....his question refocused her mind and she looked to him, answering quietly. I had business with tha Campbells. It would seem they were not in agreement.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
The people of this land change their minds too often. *His reply is said with as little judgement as can be stored in words designed for such. He leads the riders, your own horse close to his on his left. His eyes and those of his men do not leave the forest around them* Where are your men? Did you not bring a retinue?
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
A retinue? she scoffed softly, ignoring the rest of what he'd said.
I have no retinue. No men. Tis but me, Brianna and a housekeeper.
It was said matter of factly, without any trace of the bitterness she felt, eyes ahead on the well worn path, her breathing easing a little once she felt the magic again.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He looks to you and raises his eyebrow. This was a change and unexpected by more than half. There was so much happening the last time he had seen you, people and honour. Those did not just vanish entirely in the space of two short years* What happened to your people? *Maybe it was foolish of him to think that those who had made homes of your patch of land would follow you to another*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
He looked at her, seeing only her profile as she kept her eyes to the front. When they'd been together last, it had been after Kado's death, but the sense of loss about her had deepened, almost poignantly so; worn heavily about slender shoulders, the depth of it reflected in the eyes she kept so carefully averted for now. She leaned forward a little, lest she give in to her body's demand for rest and relief and lean back against the young man at her back. She didn't know about him, but her shoulder would certainly not appreciate it.
My......fathair's people you mean. They are still in Godwick, serving Evan well I imagine. I stayed on Aeren after you left.
She said nothing of her mother's death, or war, no longer having contact with her family or why...Dar...Adrian..the babies.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He'd left to a war of his own. A battle with more casualites than his people could afford. The men he brought with him the only men that could be spared for the moment. It was a story he would perhaps share with you, but not yet. No, not yet.* I see, so now you reside alone in a castle built for many. Has no one come to join you? No men at arms of people of this land? *Up ahead was the camp, to the untrained or those who lack perception, there would be nothing more than a small clearing and some foliage, but you'd seen his handiwork before, no doubt remembering it well*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
No, there is no one
She replied evenly. No one to work the fields, no one to protect, or help..certainly no one to speak..no man..no husband..for her in her bid to ensure a peaceful life amidst the clans. No man..brother or father to even make the best political match that would ensure her lands would be safe greedy clans. Eyes swept the trees and bushes as they approached the clearing, knowing well what she'd find there. Kendra hesitated, inwardly struggling for a moment, then voicing the first of her questions.
Is your wife here with you?, she meant Leyen of course. Kerrigan's path had been laid out for him, she had no doubt that he'd followed through like the dutiful son and leader of men. It did not mean she wished to be faced with the proof of it, especially considering their last meeting.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*He pauses at your question, halfway off his horse, his face for a moment seems almost to hold some kind of sadness, a quiet hurt that he couldn't quiet voice, but he shakes his head and continues to dismount* No, she rests at home. I would imagine in the garden. *His horse is tied to a tree and a feed bag hung before he moves to uncover his tent and fetch some gauze, his men helping you down and conversing quietly, reserved and still. No bawdy songs of victory today, no mead and meat. Just quiet talk*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
She hadn't been watching him, didn't see the look on his face and with her shields up as much as they could be, didn't feel the rush of sadness. She nods quietly as the men help her down, legs giving out momentarily as soon as her feet touched the ground, her face paled again, the men tightening their grip on her until she was able to stand. She thanked them and walked stiffly to a stump and sat, one hand loosening the stays of her dress, eyes roamong, taking in the crude camp and all that was achingly familiar.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*Indeed, space for the men and horses, a pit for the fire which someone is now building to heat water which is pulled from a creek not far off, one of the other men going off to fetch it. It was the most basic of camps and looked quite poor in comparison to the last one you saw. Kerrigan returns with bandage and a pouch which you could guess contained supplies for healing.* I wont lie magister, this will hurt. *He'd avoided using your name too, the whole time he'd been here he'd almost dreaded seeing you again, explaining the situation as it stood. He offered you a piece of leather wrapped around a thick piece of wood to bite down apon*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
It already does, she murmured, violet eyes coming to rest of the leathered wood. She took it from him, turning it over in her fingers and giving him a nod, slipping the wood into her mouth and inhaling deeply before exhaling and ridding her body of as much tension as she could before he started. The last time he'd done this, she'd been unconscious. A blessing to be sure.
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*This time would be worse, the last time the arrows had punctured your skin on both sides, a fortunite thing, for it could be removed easier, but in this guise, it'd gained a grip on your skin it would not easily reliquish, removing it with a hard pull would only do more damage, so he had to cut, which would be far more controlled. His dagger was given to one of his men, who placed it in the pot of water bubbling slowly over the stove, the weapon had been used to skin animals and men alike and he knew well the words of his father's physic. Who believed that a blade was more dirty than the eye could behold, often using different blades for each patient he had to cut apon. A poultice was applied around the wound, one that numbed pain and loosened the muscles. It was cold, extremely so, but soon it faded the pain to that of a dull ache, comparable to pins and needles. Words are exchanged behind your back, talk of an invasion, survivors and war. Too quiet for you to catch it all. When his knife is ready it's handed to him, the worst of the water flicked off and the heat faded for a few moments before he starts. Quick, precise cuts around the skin, widening the gap around the arrowhead. The metal is then pulled from your skin, carefully, more painful no doubt, but less damaging. The sounds and the thick smell of copper filling the air less than pleasent. A second, foul smelling poultice that burns as fire is applied to the wound before he starts to wrap it as best he can. All in all it was painful, tremendously so, but less than it could have*
Kendra MacGregor
.: witch :.
.: history, warfare, medicine, sex, violence,spirituality :.
.: honour, betrayal, vengeance, hope and despair :.
is in one of the Highlands' many glens and fells
says to Kerrigan Blackthorne Bla:
Kendra carefully tugged her hair away, draping it over her opposite shoulder. She watched his hands as he prepared, following them as they moved about, as they applied the cold poultice, she sniffed at it, trying to identify the herbs used..feverfew...yarrow..maybe some fireweed. She felt the prickling, eyes on her shoulder with a slight frown creasing her brow.
When Kerrigan's hand came back with the blade, she looked away. She'd expected the pain as he cut through skin, it tore through her like flames licking at her skin and her nostrils flared on a shallow inhale, teeth biting down on the leather in her mouth. She didn't make a sound though, beyond the sharpness of her breath as she inhaled and exhaled, eyes fixed on a tree across the clearing, small fists gripping the fabric of her dress at her lap. Soon, perspiration was dripping down her cheeks, her face white as linen. None too soon, the cutting part was done and when he started tugging on the shaft, she swayed, her vision blurring. Her jaw ached from clenching so hard, blood..her blood teased her nose and when he applied the second poultice she reared back with a gasp, the small stick dropping to the ground, her vision blurred even more, she swayed precariously and right before she slumped forward and into blissful unconsciousness, she uttered one pain laden question. Why d'ye come back Kerrigan?
Kerrigan Blackthorne
Blademaster
Fate on a Knife Edge
Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt
is in a private chamber
-- MacGregor Keep --
says to Kendra MacGregor.: witch:
*When you awake you'd be lying on your font, wrapped up in your own bed. Your dress had been removed and replaced with some nightclothes. Most likely by the housekeeper. The room was empty bar yourself and the light of early morning was cutting through the window. You could most likely hear the sounds of sparring far below you in the yard*