As the fighting raged on, Fin mostly managed to deflect blows and stay out of the Troivackian soldiers’ way using stools and tankards as weapons until the captain handed him back the spear Fin had chosen before leaving the castle.
The Troivackians that continued pouring up and down from the cellar and apartment above made the tavern grow more and more disarrayed and splattered with errant drops of blood; though it seemed no one had died yet, there were a number of stab wounds and broken noses.
The knights were absorbing most of the Troivackians’ attacks, but occasionally an innocent patron of the tavern got caught in the crosshairs. Fin ducked under a heavy fist that had swung closer to his face and delivered a cheap shot to the man’s groin before lunging toward the remaining three sailors who were trying unsuccessfully to leave the violent scene.
“Follow me. Stick to the walls,” Fin managed to explain over the din.
Sure enough, slowly but surely, they made their way through the crowd with Fin parrying and shoving the occasional soldier who stumbled across his path. For the most part, the Troivackians who had joined the fight more recently mistook the redhead for a civilian despite the spear in his hand, and so they didn’t bother trying to fight him when faced with the other soldiers who wore chest plates and helmets.
Once Fin and the sailors managed to clear the pub doorway, they nearly crashed into another two knights who were standing guard to prevent anyone else from entering or exiting.
“Mr. Ashowan, are these men with the Troivackians?” one of the knights Fin had never met in his life called out.
“No, they just got caught in the crossfire,” the redhead explained briefly before the sailors thanked him and proceeded to flee.
“I’ll go check to see how the men are doing in the inn,” Fin explained before darting back to the half-sunken building where shouts and cries rang out.
“We think another group of Troivackians are nearby; we just saw a cloaked figure dart into the building,” the knight called out as Fin moved to step over the gap between the doorway and land.
“It was only one of them, but we were told we had to stay here. See if you can get him out.”
The redhead froze.
A lone cloaked figure running into danger …
She wouldn’t … no. Why would she be here …?
Fin dove into the building, and sure enough, he saw a small, hooded figure throwing knives and ducking blows from four Troivackian soldiers. It appeared that the Daxarian men had crossed fully over into the tavern and the four were the only ones who had managed to squeeze back through the fray to the inn with the hope of escaping.
Gritting his teeth, Fin stepped in and, using his spear, swiped out the leg of one of the soldiers, who banged his head and immediately fell unconscious, while Annika felled another. The two remaining Troivackians widened their distance to make them harder targets for the mysterious cloaked being and the tall redhead wielding a spear.
“You … shouldn’t, ugh, be here,” Fin ground out while dodging the blows with great difficulty. The only advantage he had was he had a weapon and the Troivackian hadn’t made it to the higher ground of the inn. Otherwise, he could tell that the men would’ve outclassed him in combative technique.
“Neither …” Annika ripped the dagger she had lodged in one of the fallen men’s shoulders and swiftly ducked another blow before plunging it into her new attacker’s thigh. “Should you!”
“Yes … I, oof.” The Troivackian soldier had landed a rather painful blow to Fin’s abdomen, and were it not for the gravity of the building working with him, he was quite certain his shove wouldn’t have been enough to make the Troivackian stumble away from him to give him breathing room. “Should be.”
Annika launched herself up from her crouched position and tried to ram her head into the soldier’s jaw, only he wrapped his arms around her and began to squeeze her, crushing her.
Fin shifted the spear in his hand, and even though he saw his own assailant charging up toward him, he jabbed the weapon into the neck of the man who was attempting to snap Annika in two.
Promptly after his successful attack, the redhead was tackled brutally to the floor, though he managed to hear Annika’s assailant crumple to the ground.
As the soldier on top of Fin began to straighten on his knees to pummel him, Annika rose from behind him. The last Troivackian’s eyes suddenly widened and grew vacant before he slowly collapsed over the redhead.
With a grunt, Fin managed to shove off the body, noting the knife plunged through his back to his heart.
“What do you mean you’re supposed to be here?” Annika panted while hunched over slightly.
“Are you alright?” Fin asked while standing with his own wince of pain.
“Fine, fine. Just a cracked rib or two.”
“Go see my mother and have her heal you,” Fin ordered immediately while gesturing to the empty doorway and yet also gently raising her hood back over her head.
“I said it’s fine. These will heal in their own time.”
“Why won’t you go see her? Given the fact that you told her we were engaged already, I would think you were feeling quite close with her,” Fin panted, lifting an eyebrow while slowly steering Annika to the door by clasping her shoulders.
“Oh Gods … I’m so sorry … I panicked,” she explained with a small gasp as Fin ushered her over the threshold. The knights standing outside the tavern eyed the pair curiously, so the redhead turned and blocked her from view.
“Just a local pickpocket who thought they could lift some coin during the fight,” he called out. “We need more men guarding this door, though.” He added the last hastily before they could say anything.
“No need, Mr. Ashowan. We’ve rounded up the entire group. They’re already being escorted out of Austice.” Antonio appeared in the doorway of the tavern and turned to face the redhead with his calm blue eye squinting slightly into the darkness.
“That’s good. There is one unconscious Troivackian in there, though the others the Daxarian soldiers took care of,” Fin said quickly, thinking of the three corpses he and his fiancée had left behind.
Antonio waved behind himself to have two men go through the doorway and find the lone survivor of Annika’s attack, making Fin take a hasty step back and hope that she was still successfully hidden behind him.
“Not bad for your first raid; you did the right thing by taking care of the civilians, though your form and attacks could use some work. We will have to wait to further interrogate that man who you seem to know … Red, was it? Anyway, we have far more pressing matters to attend to this week.” Antonio stepped forward and gave Fin a brief nod of appraisal, then noticed his slightly pained expression. “Are you hurt?”
“Got tackled. Bruised my back.”
“Ah, well. Considering most of the injuries are of a similar minor caliber, it’s a good thing we know a certain healer who doesn’t mind giving us a hand.”
“Physician Durand is quite talented.”
Captain Antonio shook his head and chuckled before clapping his hand on Fin’s shoulder, and making his knees buckle as a sharp stab of pain ran through his back.
“Sorry.” When he noticed Fin’s pained expression, Antonio quickly removed his hand and stepped back. “Now, who was the hooded woman you guided out of the inn and let run off?”
Fin felt his face pale.
“Was it that pesky agent of His Majesty?” Antonio dropped his voice so that no one else could overhear them.
“You … know about her?” Fin asked slowly.
“Oh, I know His Majesty has a woman who scouts out some of our raids and reports numbers for us to prepare for. If I see a small, hooded figure, I am never to attack unless they aren’t able to identify themselves as ‘the Dragon.’” Antonio stared off into the distance where Fin guessed Annika had fled, for the captain was right and she was no longer hiding behind him.
“I’m surprised you know about her, though.” The military man eyed Fin with interest. “I only learned of her existence when the king told me that, due to the war, she would be more active in the field.”
“It was an accident. I, uh, found her wounded one day and gave her a hand.” Despite the pain in Fin’s back from the fight, he could feel a cold sweat building along his spine.
“Ah,” the Captain nodded understandingly, but he was still eyeing the redhead curiously. “Well, let us return, shall we? Your father will be upon us by dawn, and we wouldn’t want to appear as though we’re eager to see him.”
Fin glanced over his shoulder at the vessels that bobbed in the water behind him and felt sickening dread well up inside his gut. “No. I suppose we wouldn’t.”
The gangplank lowered, and Troivackian crewmembers began filing off the ship carrying various trunks and baskets, before then lining up on the dock to wait. The captain of the vessel was next off the ship as he then stood across from the gangplank and bowed.
Captain Antonio squinted against the bright morning sun as the tall shadowy figure strode leisurely down the gangplank with two rows of soldiers behind him. When he drew nearer, Antonio lowered his hand and stared at a man who, without a doubt, was Finlay Ashowan’s father.
The resemblance was uncanny.
The narrow face with high cheekbones, the shape of his mouth, the hair that had obviously once been red, but was instead a light blond and white, his slanted eyes …
The eyes stopped Antonio and made him want to let out a sigh of relief. As the Troivackian chief of military drew closer, his gaze fixed on the captain, it became clear that instead of the piercing blue of Fin’s, his father’s were black as coal.
As Aidan Helmer continued to stride up the dock to land, Antonio could see other little differences that somehow made him feel better and better.
While the cook didn’t tend to smile a great deal, he didn’t have frown lines etched in his forehead, either. Another difference was their distinct style … while Fin dressed in plain practical trousers and tunics, his father … well, his father wore a rich burgundy vest and fine black tunic with matching pants.
When the Troivackian chief of military finally stood before the captain, the two bowed to each other as equals.
“Good to meet you, Captain, I have heard wonderful things about your prowess here in Daxaria’s military.” Aidan Helmer greeted Antonio with a practiced smile.
“I am glad to hear it. Shall we head to the castle now?” Antonio gestured to the road where on either side, several rows of his own knights stood. Beyond them sat a fine carriage.
The captain had insulted Aidan by not being equally complimentary or making small talk regarding the journey. His reward for it was a flash of ire in the Troivackian chief of military’s eyes.
About what I expected from what they’ve told me, Antonio mused to himself.
“Oh, no hurry, Captain, I know I sent that letter a few days ago saying I would be delayed, so I’m sure His Majesty would like some more time to prepare. I can tour the city while arrangements are—”
“Not at all. We expected that you would arrive on time.” Antonio showed his own smile then. Cold, and cutting.
Another small twitch of Aidan’s eyebrows showed the captain that he had succeeded in annoying him.
“How ever did you come to that … fortunate guess?” Aidan asked as they stepped toward the waiting carriage.
“We received the same rainstorm you must have encountered, and it didn’t seem to be any more than a drizzle,” Antonio made up on the spot thinking of the day of the thunderstorm where he and Finlay had gone to question Madam Mathilda.
“I see.” There was skepticism in Aidan’s tone, but the captain’s stoic expression didn’t betray anything, so Aidan pressed on. “It is unfortunate I must return to my home shores under such circumstances, but perhaps my visit will prove more endearing than one might anticipate.”
Antonio didn’t like the far-off look Aidan had in his eyes, nor did he like the slight smile that pulled at a corner of his mouth.
“How long has it been since you’ve been on Daxarian land?”
“Oh … about twenty years.”
“That’s a long time to be gone and not return.”
“It is. I may even try to track down that darling wife of mine while I’m here.” Aidan sighed and tutted to himself as though thinking of an errant child.
Antonio’s blood began to boil, but the captain had years of experience keeping his composure as he moved closer to the carriage. “Does she know you are here?”
“Oh, I doubt it. Though I think she is somewhere nearby … after all, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her message.”
Antonio almost stopped walking he was so shocked, but there was no hiding his frown.
“What message?”
“Oh, the message detailing Earl Piereva’s abhorrent behavior while here. All the accounts were written down and organized so efficiently that your king simply added his seal and forwarded the report to us.” Aidan smiled then, sensing that he had rattled the captain somehow.
Antonio’s stomach churned; there was no way Kate could have done such a thing and not told him …
“I know that woman’s handwriting intimately, but it was how I got the message that left me without a single doubt as to it being her.”
The men had finally reached the carriage and a footman was hastily opening the door for their guest, his eyes downcast.
“What method was that?” the captain asked, forcing himself to sound only casually interested.
“His Majesty didn’t mention it? He had the message expediently delivered to me from a certain air witch my wife was friends with many, many years ago. In fact, perhaps she is staying with her now that I think about it. After all, our son is in his late twenties and most likely doesn’t want his mother living with him. Captain, would you mind perhaps looking for a woman named Sky? It would be so very kind of you if you might reunite me with my wife.”
Antonio didn’t respond, only inclined his head ever so slightly as Aidan Helmer climbed into his carriage.
As the vehicle lurched into motion and began its long journey up the center road of Austice, the captain watched with his back ramrod straight, and his face immobile. After a few moments, he allowed himself to think and breathe again when he was certain he was back in control of his impulses. Though, despite not bellowing out ferociously like he wished to, he did still make a less than peaceful decision.
That man will not live past the war. I swear it.