Outracing the Flames RPG

[Folwren]

Osmod took command as the group drew closer together and they were counted up. Raedwald was dead, but he was the only one they had lost. Sythric was very badly wounded, and Brand had lost a deal of blood from his shoulder. Vaenosa, too, was wounded, though Leod deemed her cuts not so dangerous or life threatening as the two men's.

Sizing the situation up as quickly as possible, Osmod called Athwen and Meghan to him. 'Take your horses, and also take Rædwald's horse, up to the top of the hill where we intended to stop and make camp for the night before we were attacked. There, gather wood and start a fire. Do what you can to prepare camp. While you do that, we'll have to bandage wounds as best we can in order to move them up there.'

'But won't they - mightn't they still come back?' Athwen asked. She looked frightened from her very core out as the asked the question.

'They won't come back after having most of their men killed,' Osmod replied.

'We'll go,' Meghan said. She laid her hand on Athwen's arm and gently led her away towards the horses. They mounted and Osmod handed Meghan the reins of Rædwald's horse. They rode up to the crest of the hill where, beneath the oaks, near complete blackness met them. Athwen shuddered as she entered the shadow and she felt terrified of the darkness.

'Meghan?' she called softly, feeling suddenly a fear of being alone. Meghan must have heard the tremble in her voice - who couldn't have? She was right by Athwen's side and she reached out towards her, her hand touching Athwen's shoulder.

'I'm here. It's not necessary to go farther. Let's make the fire here.'

The two of them set to work finding wood. Their eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness and they found it was not quite so balck as it had first seemed. They continued searching for and gathering the dryest wood they could find until Meghan deemed it enough. Then, as Athwen cleared a place for it and set the wood in order, Meghan searched about in the saddle bags for a tinder box with which to set the flame.

A few minutes later they had a bright little blaze going. It banished the shadows back farther and farther as Athwen carefully added the damp wood. She was just about to ask Meghan how long she thought the others would be when she heard the sound of approaching horses entering the trees. The girls looked up to see Incana riding into the firelight, a horse in tow. Vaenosa was on the second horse, half concious.

Meghan and Incana helped her dismount and led her towards the fire as Athwen sat and watched rather uselessly. Before they had Vaenosa seated, the others began to arrive, and in little time at all. everyone was off their horses, the wounded were laid near the fire, and while they were being tended to by Leod and a couple helpers, Athwen and Dorran prepared dinner while Osmod and Fion made the last few arrangements for the horses.

[Undómë]

The fire Athwen and she had built was burning brightly. A number of the companions were busy at the task of getting the camp ready for the night. Meghan watched as Leod made the rounds of the injured, attending to those who needed him and giving direction to others for their care. Save for the aches and pains of being knocked about and dragged off, her own wounds were minor. Her left hand strayed up to touch the scabbed over cut along her neck and the faint beginnings of a spiral the foul Easterling had traced with his knife.

Someone had made willowbark tea and had given her a small cup to take care of the fierce headache pounding behind her eyes. Meghan closed her eyes and rested her head back on the tree she was sitting against.

‘Here!’ Leod directed two of those still on their feet to put one of the wounded near her. ‘I’ve just put a compress of moss and bound it on his shoulder with some strips of cloth. Just put your hand firmly on it, and we’ll keep it from bleeding. Oh, and I’ve given him some wine; so, don’t be surprised if he simply sleeps through your company.’

It was Brand. His face was pale and cool, though a thin film of sweat lay on his brow. She placed her hand as Leod had directed and sat quietly for a while watching the slow even rise and fall of it as he breathed. He moaned a little, eyes closed, and moved restlessly.

‘Quiet, you great ninny! Be still!’ she said without thinking. It was a phrase she often used when tending some injury to her goats. ‘Just sleep and let yourself heal.’ She leaned back against the tree, making herself comfortable. ‘Just rest, sheepman, the lambs are safe from the wolves. Lady is well, and grazing nearby. Leod and the others are getting everyone taken care of who was wounded. The Easterlings have gone. She bent low and whispered near to his ear. ‘Others are tending the little flock of Bregoware and Wulfham for now. It’s all in good hands.’

The willowbark tea had eased her headache somewhat and eased the pain in her muscles and bones, too. Brand had finally quieted again. A sudden thought made her laugh, of how they had teased each other on their choice of flocks. He had managed to make some points on the positive merits of sheep and as she recalled, she had not the time to make her argument.

She tapped her fingers on his bandage and gave his sleeping form an impish grin. ‘You know,’ she began, her voice taking on an authoritative tone. ‘This is probably a very good time for you to just relax and listen carefully as I tell you about how much better it is to raise goats than sheep. And lucky for you, I have many stories to illustrate my points.’ Meghan crossed her legs in front of her and settled into her monologue.

‘I was just a wee girl of five when my father gave me my first kid to raise. She was a lovely little brown-eyed doe, as pretty as you can imagine, and smart as a whip, too . . .’

[Tevildo]

Except for a few bumps and bruises, Dorran had come out of the fighting in amazingly good shape. Throwing together a simple stew to feed the others, he had then offered to help Osmod and Fion care for the horses. He missed his familiar routine in the stables at Wulfham. In the midst of all this fighting and dying, the horses seemed to Dorran to be his most enduring connection to a normal life. In a real sense, the animals were the most important members of their band. Without their swift legs, the group would never reach Edoras on time, especially now that their journey had been delayed. Dorran spent some time rubbing the animals down, tending to their minor scrapes and cuts, and lugging up an ample supply of dried grass from the far side of the hill so there would be enough for all of them to eat.

"I'll stay on guard tonight," he had volunteered to the others. "Perhaps this band won't be back, but how do we know for sure? And there could be other things in these woods...."

What Dorran could not admit to himself is that he simply did not want to lay in bed and try to sleep. His anger in battle, the way he had tried to hack away at the Easterling's prone corpse, had left him feeling distinctly uneasy.

It was Leod who came over and spoke with Dorran, as if guessing the reason for the young man's offer. "I don't think there's going to be any armed attacked, but I do need someone to sit with Sythric, and try to get him to take a bit of this brew. In a few hours I am hoping that he'll start coming to. I'll take the first shift. Try and rest as soon as dinner is over. I'll wake you a few hours after that when the moon is high in the sky. Sometimes, after a battle, the best medicine a man can have is to sit with a wounded comrade and help him through the night. If you see Sythric's breathing flag, or if he falls into a deep unmoving sleep, you must wake me immediately. Other than that just sit with him. You might even want to talk a bit and cool his head with a wet rag. Whether he hears what you're saying or not, part of his mind will know you're there and that's a relief."

"Can you do that for me?" Leod prodded in a testy voice.

"Yes, only....."

Only what?" the healer snapped back.

"I'm not sure I trust myself. Not anymore. Not after what happened on that hill. You probably didn't see, but...."

"I saw. You did what you had to do to try and protect Meghan. That's what's important. The rest was done in the heat of the battle."

"But then I'm no better than them. I'm just a savage hacking away at a dead body. I hate them, Leod. I really do. I don't want to turn into them but that's what all this fighting seems to do."

"It's a problem, lad. I can't deny it. We have to fight because there's no choice. But the fighting can do strange things to people. Just look at what happened to Athwen. Anyways, you're not a monstor because anger got the better of you for a few seconds in battle. If you were a monstor, you wouldn't be sitting here now and agonizing over what you did. Go on. Get some sleep, and I promise to wake you later to take the watch....."