Hellfury

Chapter 13: Cahir

Cahir stayed on the ground, trying not to faint from the pain. Of course, she had found out. He knew she would. It was a matter of time, and he assumed he should be thankful she hadn't killed him. The latter part was a bit difficult due to the fucking pain in his side.
The betrayal in her eyes had hurt him deeply, he'd realized then that she actually trusted him. She'd began to trust him only for that fucking soldier- He had hoped she'd fainted before she heard his name. Cahir groaned and rose from the ground, trying to find his footing in a world that spun.

Cahir had hesitated. Once. The man that ran for him during the battle had been with him at Sodden, he'd dragged him from the flames himself, and now he'd been sent to kill him.
'How the mighty have fallen,' the soldier had sneered as he unsheathed his weapon.
'I didn't fall,' Cahir had replied and kept staring.
'One bitchy mage was all it took to get you on your knees? You're a fucking disgrace Commander, the Emperor will kill you for this. Or perhaps she will, when she finds out who you are. We've been instructed to use your name. Loud. Often.'

Cahir had only snarled under his breath and lifted his sword. The Emperor would definitely kill him, but the soldier would be dead before that happened. That was the only thing that mattered. As for the name, he'd lie. She'd believed everything else.
He greatly enjoyed the sound of the tip of his sword digging into the man's throat. He stood above him and stared as the light died in his eyes and his useless fucking hands tried to stop the blood. It didn't matter. No more.

Cahir had turned to see Auri sprinting across the field, her eyes set on the last soldier hiding in the woods. He'd heard her scream and followed.
He was glad she didn't look. She would think less of him if she had, Cahir's face was caked with blood and grime as he shoved his sword through the soldier's neck with a grin on his face, simply punishing him for laying a hand on her. She was his. No one else's.

Something had been wrong. The eyes she placed on him were full of hate, the fire that flared up moments after told him he was fucked, the dagger she threw at him said the same thing, albeit with a bit more violence.

If he wasn't wanted before, he'd be wanted now. She'd taken his fucking horse too; he'd bleed out before he even got off this field. He assumed he deserved it, he'd lead her on. He'd pretended, very badly, to be something he wasn't.

Cahir braced himself with a hand around a tree branch and took a step. The blood flowed in time with his heartbeats. He needed to stop the bleeding, get off this field and hunt down his horse. He still needed to get to Skellige. He would still be safe there if he found a way to get her to see reason.
He kept walking away from the tree and noticed the trickling trail of blood he left. The dead soldier still lay where he had fallen, and Cahir moved through the mud and blood. He kicked him over on his back and knelt to the ground. A shirt would be good enough, anything would be good enough to just stop the bleeding.

He fumbled over the dead soldier, ripping off armor and weapons as fast as he could. Thankfully the idiot was larger than him so the strip he managed to rip from the reeking shirt would do the trick. Cahir's head swam with dizziness and regret when he sat back down on the ground and lifted his own shirt. The armor lay discarded by his feet. No one else was coming for him until word of this got back to the Emperor. At the most he had a couple of days to track her down, either beg for forgiveness or force her to take him to Skellige.

Cahir tied off the shirt with a hiss. The wound wasn't fatal, but the blade had cut him deep. He would have to stitch it when he found his horse, even if it healed on its own, he'd rip it back open every time he moved.
His eyes drifted over the cold dimeritium shackles by the tree opposite him. He could take them, find her and use them to force her. He'd let her go the moment he got to Skellige; he wasn't a monster-