Solo Caught in the Middle

[Eosi]

87th of Winter, 515 AV

It was mid-afternoon and all that could be heard was the steady tattoo of the horse’s hooves as they made their way across the broad plain. There were at least twenty five of them present for the expedition. They’d packed up camp the day before in the day to return to Riverfall from the Iysan Ruins. A few hours earlier, Eosi had seen trouble coming about a mile off in the form of what appeared to be a horde of Yukmen. As always, she'd whispered a hasty prayer to Syna for her gift and then took off running with the rest of them, riding toward the front of the group.

They’d managed to put a short distance between their party and the landspawn, but not much. Every so often they caught the mad shrieks of ‘yuk, yuk’ coming from across the Grass. Mercifully, there was a lack of cover, given that most if not all things in the Sea of Grass could be touched by the long arm of the sun. As they plunged full tilt, Eosi kept a watch from above using her gift, though it was difficult to do this and ride at the same time. Ice threw her about in the saddle. The resulting pain radiated from her tailbone and up her spine.

”I think they’re gaining on us!” Her second-in-command, an Akalak named Palo cried. He was newly a Kuvan with a dark green skin like a fresh cut emerald and a face that seemed to hover between boy and man. Eosi, barely able to see where she was riding and keep watch at the same time, replied as politely as she could given the circumstances.

”We’re fine. Keep riding!” She shouted through clenched teeth and her voice was carried away on the wind. The group rode hard but however they tried, the Yukmen still pace with them. As the chimes crept by, Eosi’s mind scrambled for anything even remotely resembling a plan.

Initially, it’d been her idea to outrun them, but that didn’t seem possible. Their mounts would eventually grow tired. There was certainly no sneaking away now that they'd been spotted, nor would they have been able to go around them with all the recent snarlwing activity in the area. Eosi did her best to run through several timelines in her mind, keeping a weather eye on the path through the Grass ahead.

They couldn’t run forever. The sun was at its zenith but it wouldn’t stay there for much longer. There were clouds looming in the distance and Eosi feared the loss of her sight, deep as they were in the Sea of Grass. If they were to stop and fight, there would be casualties. They were outnumbered. Further, the noise of the fight would like as not attract other predators as well.

The grass whistled in the wind. The shrieks and hoots grew louder as their mounts lathered from the run. Yukmen, with their mud-and-sediment skin and lightless eyes, came closer and closer into view. Eosi felt the bow slung over her back keenly. They’d had some trouble on the way back over the years, but her expeditions had been lucky. Few had ever resulted in more than a few injured men and a couple of pieces of broken pottery.

Whispering a few colorful words, she drove her heels into the horse’s flank. Ice bellowed and ran harder, pulling her ahead of the entire group by a yard or so. Her horse was build for speed but not endurance. It would only be a matter of time before they’d have to stand their ground.

High in the gloried vaults of her mind was the blessed, ever-present connection to the sun. The mark at the top of her spine surged with divine power. While she was only able to see a mile in any direction, every inch helped. But as they pressed ever onward, the hazy distance peeled back to reveal a group of men - no more than fifteen or twenty - picking their way along the grass with a fleet of carts and wagons, laden with cages.

”Syna above,” she swore under her breath. Slavers. They were directly ahead. There would be no avoiding their notice if they came much closer.

”Palo!” She cried, pulling unsteadily back. She wasn’t an experienced rider, so Ice took some coaxing. Palo looked at her gravely from his low-slung brow.

”We’ve got slavers, just ahead!” She shouted. His eyes widened in panic. They were pinned between the rock and the proverbial hard place. The rest of the men rode onward, their expressions ranging anywhere from mortal terror to stone-faced indifference.

”What do we do?” He cried back. Those words bounced around in her skull as she frantically considered their options. They could take a sharp turn in the hopes of avoiding the slavers, but other paths were unknown to them. If the slavers were coming from that direction, in the very least it indicated the rest of the way to be clear, at least in the temporary sense. If they tried to turn away now, they’d be followed by the Yukmen. It was possible that the slavers might see the opportunity wherever it happened and to set upon them once the melee was done.

The truth was, they were fucked no matter what they did.

”What do you know about Yukmen?” She asked suddenly. There was a vague notion forming in her mind, but she wasn't certain if it were true. Palo looked slightly wan, but he did his best to provide her with some kind of reply.

”The petchers eat, kill and rape everything, m’lady. Sometimes in that order. And… And they imitate what they see, be it man or beast.”

In spite of the ice in her veins, an idea dawned upon Eosi. It was likely to fall apart, but it'd have to do. What other choice did they have?

”Stay the course!” She shouted. ”Prepare the rest for battle!”

[Eosi]

Their party pressed on over the grass. They were five minutes from spitting distance with the Slavers and the Yukmen were coming up fast. She withdrew her sight.

”We’re going to hit them head on,” she shouted to those that could hear her. She expected Palo to inform the rest. ”We shave the skin off asses and the Yukmen will follow.” There were murmurs amongst the rest of the riders, but the sound was scattered to the winds.

All she could do was try to give them hope in the final moments. She scarcely had time to be afraid.

”We may not be Kuvay’Nas but we are still men and women of Riverfall! She cried. ”We will not die here today!”

She unslung her bow. Shooting while moving wasn’t ideal, but they’d be stopped soon enough.

The slavers could see them. She could see heads whipping back and forth frantically as those at the front scrambled for their swords. All she could hear was the roar of the wind. Adrenaline surged through her veins. If this was the end, then Ivak take her. Perhaps in another life, Eosi and Leo might find one another again.

”CHARGE!” She shouted, heels digging at Ice’s flanks one final time. She could hear the raised voices all around her, bellowing out war cries.

It was this moment that she’d never forget.

They crashed into the ranks of the Slavers, plowing those on the ground into the dirt. The impact of some overturned cages which only added to the chaos, as both man and beast seized their opportunity to escape.

Eosi rode one man under, then another, before pulling back on the reins, wheeling her steaming mount in the opposite direction.
A nearby mounted man drew his sword with a metallic hiss, teeth bared. His face was almost entirely obscured by an iron mask. Ice wasn’t used to combat; she reared and Eosi clung to her saddle, struggling to regain control. All around them, violence erupted. She seemed to be facing this man alone for the time being. Those at his flanks were occupied.

Her opponent seemed to be having trouble with his own horse, but perhaps for a different reason. It kicked and struggled as he yanked back on the reins. The sound of his cursing could be heard over the din of swords and fury all around them. Blood streaked the ground.

As soon as Ice stilled for long enough, she plucked an arrow from the shaft and notched it. The horse beneath her squirmed anxiously, but it was enough to at least get off a shot. The projectile went wide, hitting the side of one of the carts. She was lucky she didn’t hit one of her own.

In her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of an Akalak, sword in the air. He always swung so clumsily. There was a javelin protruding front his chest, blood pouring from his mouth. His skin was richly tinted green, like an emer--

The hoots, like derisive laughter, were all around them.

Her focus came back round to the front. Shaking, she groped for another arrow. The man at her opposite was almost right on top of her. She couldn’t notch it in time.

The horse beneath him gave a startled cry and kicked at its own flank, causing the sword to fly from his hand and spin backwards to the ground. The Yukmen were swarming their horses, biting and tearing at their flesh.

Eosi felt bile rise in her throat. She began to panic. Ice kicked so powerfully that she was thrown from the saddle and into the dirt, her fall broken only by Palo’s crumpled body. The wind had been knocked from her lungs and most of her arrows were broken. Pain streaked white hot through her mind. The only thing that kept her going was the steel of her discipline and the raw power of adrenaline.

Between the Yukmen and the expedition, the slavers and the slaves, it was no longer possible to tell friend from foe. Ice must’ve fled, because that was the last time Eosi saw her. The slaver that cut down Palo noticed her on the ground and tried to take his chances. She scrambled to her feet.

He charged her, knife in hand. Rage surged through her. Eosi stepped into the attack rather than away from it, whipping her bow across his face. He stumbled backward, for a moment. Her training took over. Like a machine, she drew one of the few arrows that remained by its feathered shaft, drew and let it fly. It embedded squarely in his chest, to the right of his sternum.

He staggered backward, right into a Yukmen.

[Eosi]

They were everywhere. There were bodies everywhere. Eosi lost her head. She loosed arrow after arrow into the chaos, picking off Yukmen and slavers alike, but there seemed to be no end. She had no horse, no chance of survival. As she drew her last arrow, it occurred that this had been her idea. She’d done this.

There were still survivors. She could see the jewel toned skins of some of the Akalak in the midst of the fight. There were less Yukmen, less slavers but less men overall; it seemed that they’d all effectively eliminated each other. Eosi was one of the few left standing.

As if cued by the very thought, she wheeled around to face a snarling Yukman. He was almost a head shorter than her with clay-colored skin and bulging eyes. Before she could respond, he grabbed the arm that held the arrow and bit her.

The creature’s teeth sank down, down, down and kept going. She shrieked, the sound of her own agony rippling in her ears. She’d felt pain, but nothing like this before. It hit her bone and still kept going, kept biting. Her eyes filled with tears. She beat it with her bow again and again. When she felt the pressure soften, she managed to tear it away, watching her own flesh come clear.

Her head was spinning. It felt like she might faint.

The Yukman came for her again. She struck it with her bow clumsily, fending off its attack, growing weaker all the while. She wasn’t long for the world. But her hand still held the arrow. Could she shoot?

The pain was unreal. She struck the Yukman, then kicked it away. The edges of her vision were growing fuzzy. But she endured.

It was pure agony to notch the arrow. It took everything she hand to hold it. She barely even could. The thing made for her again. She held the bowstring taut, drew back, prayed. The power of her fury carried her ever forward.

The arrow flew. She could scarcely believe it. It struck, sunk straight into its left eye. It collapsed to the ground, twitching.

She struggled to catch her breath. For a moment, she almost gave into the darkness.

Weakly, she glanced over. Nearby, in one of the overturned cages was a man, struggling to get free. She could hear him calling out. He was huge, big as an Akalak, maybe bigger.

Eosi ran at full tilt. She ran for the cage. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had this idea either, because one of the few remaining slavers sought to cut her off.

He was further away, but she was slow. Her forearm ran like a spigot. She felt her blood pressure dropping. The cage was so close, but it took every last of bit of her willpower to reach it. The slaver was closing in. She could smell nothing but blood and viscera. She could barely lift her bow.

The slaver was there. Frantically she beat at the lock, but it barely seemed to make a difference. He grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the ground. His laughter mixed in with the hooting of the Yukmen.

Eosi kicked him. It wouldn’t do much, but she’d fight until her last breath. Emotion surged through her. Her whole body was on fire.

”Stupid bitch,” he growled, staggering back. He stumbled back into the bars of the cage.

The man inside it seemed to be waiting for this. He stuck his shackled hands through the bars and slipped them around the slaver’s neck. Eosi clawed back to her feet. There were keys at his belt, glinting in the light.

The slaver struggled but couldn’t get free. Leverage was against him. He slashed wildly with the knife in his alternate hand. Eosi tried to come at his flank, tried to get the keys from his belt, but his blade licked at her every time she tried.

Finally, his face began to turn blue. She plucked the keys from his side. But with one last gesture of impunity, the frothing man sank his blade into her upper arm. The pain was too much to bear. Eosi felt her world start to go black.

With her last ounce of willpower, she tossed the keys into the cage. It was all she could do.

She went down into the darkness.

[Eosi]

When she came to, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. Everything seemed exactly the same. But she was no longer alone. There was a guttural animal sound nearby, just a few feet away. It was familiar, but she couldn't place it. As she squinted into the dim, overcast light she saw just what the noise was coming from:

A grizzly bear.

The beast savaged a Yukman, slicing it open with a single stroke of its massive claws. There were a few Akalak and a Konti that hung back watching, blades and bows drawn. Bodies upon bodies were strewn across the ground. Eosi looked at the carnage of her arm. Someone had made a tourniquet at the elbow.

She could barely stand, but seeing the survivors spurred her onward. Eosi saw her bow, lying nearby. She reached for it and used it to rise from the ground, though it took a great deal of effort. Her legs sprawled in the dirt.

The bear began tearing the Yukman apart. Eosi had never seen so much blood in her life. The pain from the wounds on her arms very nearly blinded her. She was scarcely even alive.

'I must... save them..'

For some reason, she didn’t think much of the bear. Perhaps she was in shock. In a haze, she limped over to what remained of their expeditionary party. What started out as twenty four was now reduced to a handful of men.

”Are you okay?” She asked the rest, using the bow to prop her up. They looked at her incredulously.

”You’re still alive?” The only Konti said. Meanwhile, the bear was no longer a bear. The men with her tensed. She turned to look at the man she freed from the cage. His mouth was streaked with blood.

”I am called Grist,” the not-bear offered, mopping his brow with the back of his hand. ”I’m glad to see you're still alive.”

”Thanks,” she replied modestly. Her lungs strained for air. "I do what I can."

Eosi let out a hacking cough. One of the freed slaves that stood at her elbow seemed braced to catch her, were she to fall.

"Palo," one of the other men said, looking over at their fallen comrades mangled body. His mouth was a grim line.

"Grist," Eosi wheezed. "Did you see where the horses went?"

"Aye," he responded. His accent was familiar; maybe Zeltivan?

She frowned. Even if they went after them, there was no guarantee they'd be able to find them again. Especially not in the Grass. Further, the clouds had rolled in overhead. Eosi was blind. There was the possibility they'd use what little strength they had left to walk straight into another ambush.

Still. They had to get the fuck out of there and fast, or they'd be ass deep in glassbeaks or whatever the fuck else the Grass felt like throwing at them that day.

The fact she could even think was a miracle all its own. Eosi chuckled grimly. Death was easy as compared to the agony she felt, or the rage and the guilt at facing her responsibility. Lying down in the grass and sleeping forever just didn't seem so bad.

Someone would need to tell the families of the fallen. Someone needed to see that these people survived. Death came when it came, but it would not be here or now. Eosi would live for duty, if nothing else. She would survive when all else fell apart, if only to do that which no one else would or could.

Ivak still had use for her. Syna still granted her sight.

"I can smell them," Grist said. "There are a few not far from here. Vrysa is a tracker; she can get us someplace safe. But we better hurry."

Eosi nodded her agreement. The reasoning was obvious. One of the men around her though seemed to think otherwise.

"Why?" He asked, voice cracking.

Grist looked up at the sky. The granite colored clouds overhead had grown steadily darker. From the heavens above, a insubstantial little snowflake descended, scarcely visible to the naked eye. They all gaped in open mouthed horror.

"Well," Eosi replied wearily, head swimming. "That's fun."

[Eosi]

The ride back to Riverfall happened in silence. They were lucky the snow was thin and wet. Most of it evaporated as it touched down, but after a while it finally began to accumulate. By then they'd made it back to the Fringe Forest. It was enough to stay safe.

They were also lucky that the snow fell at all. Eosi silented thanked Morwen or Lhex, whoever it was. Most predators had already taken shelter from the storm. Otherwise, they wouldn't have made it very far.

Eosi ended up finding Ice again amongst some of the horses, but her left foreleg was injured, making it impossible for her to bear any kind of load. The rest of the horses were long gone. One of the slaves volunteered to lead her, along with a few of the others. Grist actually let Eosi ride on his back, as a means of thanks.

Rumors later swept the city like wildfire that yes, the 'denval woman' led the survivors back to the city, mounted on the back of a giant bear. She was a survivor. They were all survivors, to their core. That would not soon be forgotten.

As soon as they arrived, most were sent straight to Kavala. Both horse and rider could recover from there. Those slaves that'd been freed chose to stay or go. Most stayed, with the exception of Grist.

Eosi healed, slowly. She'd lost a lot of blood. Her willpower however, remained unbroken. Once able, she visited each of the families of the fallen personally. Some thanked her, some cried. Some raged, some called her incompetent. She bore it all, with fortitude and grace. After all, this was her responsibility.

If only she had chosen otherwise, maybe they all would have lived. In her dreams, she heard the groans, the hooting of the Yukmen. The gently falling snow turned to ash. Terror made its home in her shadow.

The truth was, every leader at one time or another might find themselves caught in the middle of 'bad' and 'worse,' just as she did.

Only they can decide the outcome. Only they must live with the consequences.

[Faradae]

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