touch and go (eragos)
Greenwist was much more of a talker when he was missing a limb. She wondered if he'd confess everything he'd ever done if Eragos picked up his sword against him again, but then they didn't need that. She wasn't sure if Eragos would stop, even if he desired justice and law, she had seen the darkness in his eyes while she laid on the floor dying. It was almost frightening. Instead it was Greenwist reciting things in hushed words while watching Eragos with fear painting his old face. The plan was to get the information they needed and then to leave him useless back in the castel. Of course, Eithne wasn't very much for planning anything and it meant they'd need to knock the mage out again. Martine had a dagger trained on the mage's throat as he talked.
Boq was behind all of this. But it hadn't started ith him. It started with Greenwist, but it was Boq that took control. Money spoke as much as actions. Where Greenwist was intimidating, and could kill, the mage preferred to work with fear rather than blood. Slaaven was an enforcer, and an idiot, but he had a job in this and was thankfully already in custody. Now two pieces of the puzzle were there for Agrippa. If he couldn't be satisfied with that then she didn't know what she'd do. Boq was not going to return to Simanel, or to Oisea. Not without a fight. But which would be worse? Killing her friend, or at least watching him die. Or having him imprisoned and letting the courts deal with him?
She couldn't answer that by herself.
"Just let me die." Eithne whispered into Callum's ear. He was carrying her over one shoulder, and Boq was running ahead of both of them. Every part of her body hurt, but what was worse is that her heart simply didn't want to beat anymore. Every other breath was a hitch and a choke. She was sobbing. But he wasn't stopping. Callum held tighter to her and kept running.
"You're not going to die." Callum said as gently as the man could muster. But she knew he wasn't alright. None of them were. Boq was pale and sick, but he'd run ahead to find a healer that was awake and ready to take her in. They hadn't been able to stop until they were far enough away from the ring. The ring.
She'd never fight again. She'd never breath again. She'd die rght here and now and that would be okay. She deserved to die for this. Deserved everything for what she did. Broken ribs, and a bloody nose. She deserved more. If Callum ahdn't been there to pull Montage off her she'd be dead. She deserved to be dead. She thumped her fists on his back a dozen times, but Callum didn't drop her. He simply kept running. Boq appeared in an open doorway, it's patch of light streamed into the dark street. Callum went right inside and she was despoited gently onto a bed. The healer didn't have a face because she'd closed her swollen eyes and fell right off to sleep.
Greenwist had been as useful as he could have been. He thought he knew where Boq would go. Trone wasn't exactly the happiest place in the world, but it was well enough protected for someone who didn't want to be found. She thought Boq would want to be found. He would want her to be able to find her and to finish this. But it would be on his terms rather than on her terms. There was hiding, and then there were traps. Greenwist seemed ready to throw Boq to the dogs, but Agrippa would be smart enough to see through this. Boq might have been the brains for a time, and Greenwist might have been as well. But both were guilty of too much, and Greenwist would either hang or he would stay in a cell for the rest of his life.
He just didn't seem to realize that yet.
The minutes ticked along like hours as they dragged Greenwist from the house and out into the street. But they were not alone there in the street, though Agrippa was not physically there all of them could feel him in the eyes of the White Riders that were there to meet them. Martine gave one glance over his shoulder at Eithne and nodded. Martine dragged Greenwist forward along with Cols who looked confused. Geoff was urging them both along to greet the five White Riders that waited there for them. Martine was saying something overly loudly now, causing a distraction? The twist of a smile only touched her lips before she sped around the corner of the house and down the next street.
Only one of the Riders was yeling after her, and it wasn't those five that were assembled to catch them, it was Eragos. Eithne paused mid stride and waited for him to catch up. Apparently he meant to follow this to the end still.
That was hours ago now, and neither had rested since they'd left that inn two days ago. But neither could ride another minute on the road towards Trone. They'd put enough distance between them and Agrippa. The only stop they'd made between leaving Simanel and onto the road had been to the inn and then carefully to the stables. Eithne had pulled the reins first, and dropped out of the saddle and into the dirt of the road. Without a word Eragos had joined her in dismounting and both of them lead their horses off the road and into the grass.
"I'm sorry." Eithne said, still looking at the horse as she led it towards a tree that she could tie it to. Then she laughed bitterly. She was so ashamed. Her friend had done this. All of this. Her shoulder still ached, and now she was as tired as she'd ever been. Worn from the road, from the fight, and from their fast paced flight from Simanel. Emotionally she felt sturdy enough, enough to know where this would end. Boq wouldn't be dragged back in hand irons, there was no way that could happen. But she didn't know if she was as capable of ending this as she was when she left Simanel. What a wreck all of this had become, and this was all Boq's fault as much as it was her own. She had dragged them into this.
Wasn't it only right that she ended this? Should she have left this to Agrippa and sat in Simanel? Stayed in that cell and let the White Riders do what they were suppose to do? But Eragos had come either way, and the only thing he had said between Simanel and this stretch of dirt they called a road were short and to the point.
Once she'd finished with her horse Eithne pulled her saddle bags off the horse and walked away from it. She couldn't look at him. Part of her was afraid of seeing anger on his face, the rest of her afraid that it wouldn't be anger at all, that it might be pity, or care, or something like both. She dropped down into the grass and covered her face.
"I didn't expect this, I didn't... I still don't."