The man charged in again. This time there was a flurry of slashes, and Rory felt a cut on his arm. He gasped in pain and looked down, seeing a crimson line trickling over his flesh.
“Ye are a big bugger, but ye are nae the first giant I hae faced. That sword looks unwieldy in yer hands. Ye made a mistake in coming here, boy,” the man hissed.
Rory grit his teeth and charged again. At one point, their swords were locked together for so long that he could see the yellowed teeth of the man, and smell his stale breath. They were not going to get Elvira. Not a chance.
The rogue showed surprising agility as he ducked around and spun, leaving Rory standing there with his back turned. The rogue did not have the opportunity to bring his sword to bear, but he could jab the hilt into Rory’s kidneys. He felt the dull pain, and staggered towards Elvira.
“Watch out! Defend yeself!” she said, having spat out the gag. Rory turned and raised his sword just in time to deflect a blow that would have run through the middle of his body. He blinked away sweat that threatened to blur his vision, and behind him came a cry. “Listen tae me!” Elvira said. Rory calmed his thoughts, and heard only her voice.
Rory came from nowhere,like a bolt of lightning. After all that had transpired between them, he was the last person she expected to come to her rescue. He was certainly no coward now, although his initial advantage of surprise had been lost. Elvira knew that the longer the battle continued, the likelier it was that Rory would be defeated. In the background, she could see the other, more fearful man staggering to his feet again. She needed to help. As she watched the fight unfold, she used her keen gift of observation to study Rory’s opponent. She noticed some patterns of attacks, and some tells. Every time he shifted his weight, she knew that a certain blow was going to follow.
“Rory, duck tae yer left,” she cried. Rory did as she said, and avoided a cutting blow that sliced through the air. The man cursed, and when he was unbalanced, Rory lunged forward and put his full weight into a shoulder barge. The rogue went staggering back. He was able to regroup, however, and came back with another few lunging blows. Rory lifted his sword, managing to catch them all like lightning.
“Leap back!” Elvira cried. Rory did so, sucking in his gut as the rogue’s sword came thrusting forward in a straight line. With Elvira’s help, Rory was able to fare better against the rogue. who was becoming frustrated and leveled his own curses towards Elvira, wanting to silence her once and for all. Fury blazed in his eyes, and she sensed that he wanted to deal with Rory swiftly so that he could skewer her against the tree. Elvira watched his feet, and then yelled towards Rory. He shifted to the side and brought his sword up in an arc, slicing the man’s leg open. The rogue cried out in pain and staggered to the ground, as though he had been held up by strings that had been cut. He fell to one knee. Rory swung around and drove a knee into the back of the man’s head, and the rogue fell face forward into the mud, utterly still.
By this point, the other man had gotten his senses back. He had picked up his sword, but now Rory turned on him.
“The curse hae already begun. I summoned this man, an ancient warrior from long ago, whose heart beats with fire. He will chase ye tae the ends of the world,” she cried out.
The rogue’s knees weakened as Rory strode towards him. He ended up on his knees, begging for mercy. Rory had his sword in hand and could have run the man through, but instead he brought his fist back and swung it across the man’s face. His neck turned sharply, and the light fell from his eyes. He too fell into the mud, his chest rising slowly.
Rory stood over him, bristling with strength, before he turned towards Elvira. Elvira took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, clad in an armor of power, her avenger. Then, he strode towards her and cut through the ropes that bound her. She fell forward, tension easing across her body as she was now free. She could breathe easier. She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. She also adjusted her clothes as well. While she was grateful that Rory had rescued her, she now felt a little ashamed at the scathing words she hadsaid the last time they had met. He had certainly proven that he was no coward, yet still, she was angry at him for turning her away in the first place. This, coupled with the trauma of the night, gave her a steely resolve. She did not fall into his arms like a swooning damsel. Instead, she acted as though she had the matter entirely under control. She smoothed down her dress and cleared her throat, dipping her head towards him respectfully, but maintaining her composure. She clasped her hands together and took small steps forward, fearing that she might lose all strength from her steps if she walked normally.
“Thank ye for coming tae my aid, although I had everything under control,” she said.
“Aye, it certainly looked that way,” he replied with a skeptical look.
“I was gaeing tae wait for them tae sleep before I made my move.”
“I’m afraid I could nae be as patient. Sae, ye think my heart beats with fire?” Rory lifted his chin and displayed pride at the way she had described him. She narrowed her eyes, not wishing to inflate his ego. Why did all men think that excelling in combat was the only way to succeed in the world?
“I only said that tae strike fear intae his heart. I dinnae always mean what I say,” she said.
Rory looked a little crestfallen, before realization crept upon his face. “Wait, daes that mean yewerelying when ye spoke tae me earlier?”
Elvira sighed and put her hand to her head, massaging her temples. “Rory, after the night I’ve endured, I dinnae want tae speak about these matters with ye.”
Rory composed himself after this and turned towards her, looking at her with concern. “Did they hurt ye?” his tone of voice softened, and she appreciated the kind words.
“Nae enough tae last. And nae enough that I cannae give it back myself,” she walked up to the man Rory had been dueling with and kicked him in the side. It was a sharp jab of a kick, hard enough to cause a bruise. The limp body twitched, but the man did not awaken. While it was not enough to cause any lasting damage, it did do wonders for Elvira’s mood. She had been tied up for so long that she believed she would never have been able to strike out against them. This small act was enough to give her some satisfaction, at least.
After this, she walked to the fire and began rummaging through their belongings, stealing their coin purses and looking for any other items that might be useful.
“What are ye daeing?” Rory asked.
“What daes it look like I’m daeing?”
“Ye should nae steal from them.”
Elvira cast a glance towards him, wondering if she really just heard him say that. “What dae ye think I should dae? Tuck them up in their bedrolls and kiss them on the forehead?”
Rory frowned, shifting his weight between his feet. “I never said that. I just…” he sighed, clearing his throat. Sometimes it seemed as though it was impossible to have a simple conversation with him. “What did they want with ye?”
“What daes any man want with a woman? Especially a Romani woman. I tried tae tell ye before, Rory, people dinnae see us the same as ye. We are just things, nae different tae cattle or sheep. This is the way we live, fearing that someone may just come and take us away. The world is nae kind tae us, and all because we are different. Sae now I am gaeing tae take a wee reward and return home, hoping that these men dinnae darken my door again,” she said, deciding that she wouldn’t tell him about Laird McKovac just yet. She had already been shaken enough by the ordeal, and it was difficult to keep her emotions under control. There was a part of her that just wanted to fall tothe ground, to break down weeping and crying, beating her fists against the hard soil. There were times when everything seemed hopeless. How many other men would be sent to find her? How many other times would she be captured? She couldn’t always rely on Rory to rescue her, and the fact that she had to rely on him at all was galling.
Once she had gathered the loot, she returned to Rory and looked at the dagger resting against his waist. Her hand nipped forward, and she plucked it from him. Her hands grazed his tight stomach, and he leaped back as she did so, once again reluctant to be touched.
“I’m nae gaeing tae hurt ye. I just want my dagger back,” she muttered. “That’s a fine sword, by the way. Where did ye get it?”
