Days of the Dead Book 1: The Thief's End

Chapter 14: The idiots finally get out of the cave

Kit
"What's happening?" I ask, landing on the floor of the cave, painfully. I'm in semi-modern clothes, and little worse for the wear, but nothing too bad. My bones ache. But those gay wizards' spell is working. I'm not dying. Yet.
The idiots are sitting around the cave, weapons ready, mostly waiting.
"Can you —fight?" Ocenon asks, looking me up and down as though judging that I likely cannot. His fine gold shirt is dusty, and he brushes his strawberry curls from his face disdainfully. He's ready to be out of here. We all are.
"Forever," I say, standing up. The coffin sits cold, and stone, that awful curse reprinted on every side. The mounds of gold hold little promise for me. I know I can do nothing with the riches I could steal. It doesn't matter anymore.
"Stay with me," Rob says, offering me a sword. I shake my head. I'm better off with magic.
Ocenon moves to the door, nodding to two of the bigger men. They get ready, bracing with shields.
I pull the door open with magic, slowly.
And nothing happens.
Nobody is there. Nobody is waiting outside. That was disappointing.
We advance into the outer chamber of the cave. Nothing. The door is open and I can hear talking outside. They clearly didn't think we'd be stupid enough to just try to walk out and start attacking them.
Joke's on them.  We're definitely stupid enough to do that.
I run out with the first few men, using magic to prevent any casualties, but little else. I'm trying to conserve my strength. I hover over the ground, blue light streaming from my eyes. I'm pulsing with magic, I feel better than I have in weeks. I let it flow through me, shoving the enemy back and stopping arrows as the fly at our men.
But we're losing. We are maybe fifty strong. Our army is well away and unaware of our plight. Though in theory they should be looking for us by now but I'm not setting a high bar with these people. Anyway. There's some maybe several thousand? Enemies? I don't know? They're not even technically enemies. They're just another set of people we don't like for whatever reason. I didn't even get why.
Anyway, we're naturally losing. We were never not going to lose given how many of them there are. But I for one am proud we tried anyway. No, I'm not we're dumbasses they'll probably put up one group grave for us and label it 'dumbasses'. Because that will cover it. Completely.
I'm still attacking but I'm not doing a lot of good. I can't take out a whole army. I'm not thrilled about dying trying but I admit I was dying anyway.
And that's when the tide turns. Not because of us, no. But because of a different, intelligent, reason all together. Another army attacks from the trees. I don't know how long they were in there, watching us get our asses handed to us. But I'm not here to judge. No wait, yes I am. They had bowmen they were clearly watching us get our asses handed to us for half an hour.
They descend from the trees, quickly driving off the foes who were not prepared to be attacked from that side. It occurs to me that these new people might be here to steal our gold, so I am about to fight them too.
"Easy there, it's all right," Rob shakes my shoulder a little, "They're not the enemy."
"But they'll get our gold!"
"And we won't be dead, it's fine. Don't you recognize Saladin's army?"
"No," I have no idea who that is, "And why is it okay that he gets our gold?"
"Because, the slogan of this crusade is, 'We don't care if Saladin wins, so long as Conrad and Philip lose', all right?" Rob asks.
"No," I have no idea who any of those people are.
We gather in a ragged group, washed in moonlight, bloody, and exhausted. Ocenon looks little better than the rest of us, a sword in each hand. He was fighting four men at once there for a bit. He's a devil with a sword, and quite unbreakable. 
We all hover back, in helping distance of Ocenon, who stands at the front of us, arrogant as ever, waiting. We don't have to wait long. The leader of our saviors shows himself quickly, riding to the front on a sleek chestnut horse. He dismounts, patting the animal, before handing off the reins and walking up to us, entirely well rested and looking amused. He's like—okay he's not white. I am sleep deprived and cursed, his skin is not white that's all the information I have. Oh and he's hot. Like very hot. That's as far as my gay brain gets.  I'm sure he's got more going on, than being hot, but that's all the information I have for you.
"Richard," he says, to Ocenon, in accented English.
"You have most—excellent timing, my lord," Ocenon says, and they bow to each other. Ocenon is the bigger man, at least taller, but looks displeased he's not currently the better dressed.
"My spies said in Philip's men claimed to have trapped you in a cave," the man laughs, like it's not likely to be true.
"Something—of that kind, we were trapped then got out and they—they surrounded us," Ocenon says, face twitching at his broken words. But the other man does not seem to mind. 
"I see. But how ever did you come to be trapped in a cave?" The other man asks, good naturally.
"That's—ah—a long story," Ocenon says.

**The Long Story: Three weeks earlier**
A group of idiots see an entrance to an underground cave that looks like it's been sealed for hundreds of years.
"Let's look inside," our fearless leader.
"Yeah."
"Definitely."
"Let's go."
And then every single one of our dumb asses walked into the cave leaving no one outside, and no one holding the door, which immediately shut behind us.
**The End of the Long story **

"I'm sure it is! But you must need rest, come," the other man says, nicely. I'm not going to lie I like this guy.
Ocenon turns to us and makes a quick gesture that we're going with the pretty person who rescued us.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Rob says, to me, "We won the day."
I shake my head, no, "I'm cursed, remember?"
"We can—work on that surely? You're better for now."
"I'm going to work on that, now actually, I'll leave you all to get some rest, maybe I'll see you again," I say. I know I won't.
"What do you want me to tell them?" Rob asks.
"Whatever you think of, so long as it's a decent goodbye," I say, smiling a little.