“Look, give us the girl, and we’ll let you go,” the woman piped up.
“I’ll only say this once,” Garren said coldly. “Go back the way you came, right now.”
The group collectively stared at him for a moment. Then their leader laughed, and the others followed. “I don’t think so,” he said with a grin. The woman spat onto the grass.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Felix replied. Isolde couldn’t see his face, but there was an undertone in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine.
Felix and Garren must have exchanged some kind of signal; it was the only way to explain how they moved as one, each lunging for their nearest adversary. Felix drove the butt of his axe into a man’s sternum hard enough to knock the wind out of him. As the bounty hunter doubled over, the blade of the axe found his exposed neck. The man dropped like a sack of grain. A second man swung his sword in a wild arc, but Felix somehow caught it on the hilt of his dagger, twisting it sharply, forcing the sword out of his hand. A savage stab to the ribs and a shove, and Felix dodged nimbly around the third man coming for him. He ducked a swing that would have surely killed him like it was nothing. Even from a distance, Isolde could see the wide grin on his face.
Felix circled his adversary like a predator stalking prey. “You any good with that?” he taunted, motioning to the man’s trembling sword. “Go on. Show me what you’ve got. Make the first move.”
Luella clicked her tongue. “Ugh. Of course, he plays with his food,” she whispered, more to herself than to Isolde. “Unhinged brat.”
Isolde had seen people fight before, soldiers sparring in the yard, men duelling. This wasn’t a fight; it was a slaughter.
Garren had disposed of the other two bounty hunters. She barely noticed it, unable to tear her gaze away from Felix. With only one opponent left, Luella started forward.
“Keep that one alive,” she called out, “so we can –”
Distracted by Luella’s voice coming from the trees, the remaining thug made the mistake of turning his head. Felix swung his axe at the man’s exposed neck so violently he nearly decapitated him. A wide arc of crimson sprayed across the clearing. Isolde reflexively squeezed her eyes shut, retreating behind the tree, her stomach lurching.
For perhaps two heartbeats, there was complete silence.
“Triad above, Felix, was that necessary?” Luella sounded equal parts disgusted and annoyed.
“What?”
“He can’t tell us anything useful anymore now, can he?”
“It’s alright, Luella,” Garren said. “They told us enough. Where is Lady Isolde?”
Breathe,she told herself.They protected you while you cowered behind a tree. The least you can do is go up there and face it.“I’m here,” she called. Her voice was small and weak. The taste of fear was still in her mouth, the wet crunch of an axe slicing through a man’s neck still in her ears. “I’m coming.”
The metallic smell of blood assaulted her senses as soon as she stepped out of the tree line. Blood… and something else. She covered her nose and mouth with her cloak, eyes watering.
Felix glanced over at her and chuckled. “They didn’t smell much better alive.” He nudged a body with his boot and rolled it over. Dead, empty eyes stared rightat Isolde from a bruised, bloodied face. She made it four steps back towards the trees before heaving the contents of her stomach onto the forest floor.
A tentative hand came to rest on her back. “I’m sorry, my lady,” Garren said. “You should not have to see that.”
But she should. It might be their own fault, but these people were dead because of her. “It’s fine, Garren,” she said as she straightened and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but she would be. Eventually.
***
Isolde busied herself with the horses and their supplies whilst the others searched the bodies. They moved some distance away from the blood-drenched clearing and made camp. Shame flooded her every time she thought about the way she had reacted to the sight of the dead, but none of her three companions brought it up. Even Felix didn’t joke about it or tease her, which was both a bit of a surprise and a relief.
She sat a little apart from the others, wrapped in her cloak, her knees pulled up under her chin. The scent of blood and bile still clung to her hair and clothes. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Felix rolling up a bloodied sleeve, and dabbing at his arm with a piece of wet cloth.
Isolde was on her feet before she realised what she was doing. “You’re hurt!” she blurted out, staring at the jagged cut.
Felix looked up at her nonchalantly. “It’s just a scratch.”
“It looks awful,” she said, kneeling beside him.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Can you pass me that bandage?”
Instead of handing it to him, she took the cloth from his hand and continued cleaning the cut. Finally, there was something she could do. The injury wasn’t deep, but it still made her skin crawl. She gingerly wiped away the dried blood, and he didn’t protest. When she risked a glance up, his eyes were very warm, and very dark.
She bit her lip, then looked away. Luella watched her curiously, the arrow she was fletching forgotten in her lap. She refocused on her task, acutely aware of Garren and Luella’s gazes on her. When Felix noticed, his expression turned to faint amusement. Isolde ignored all three of them, finished cleaning the cut, then tied a bandage around Felix’s arm. It wasn’t as neat as a real healer’s work, but probably still better than he could have done himself with one hand.
