Midnight Moon

Chapter 17 - Traitor

The poster crumpled in Veanna's numb fingers. She wanted to scream, to throw up, but most of all she wanted to sit down and cry.

She forced her head to rise in time to watch Tia kick Neyerith to the ground. He fell without protest, without resistance. He made no move to grab the daggers on his belt, didn't raise his hands to block her strikes.

Unease stirred in Veanna's gut, not the dread of betrayal but the guilt of being a bystander to suffering. She felt like a hand was clenched around her throat, another squeezing her heart. None of this was right.

Tia dropped her weight onto Neyerith's chest, one knee pinning each arm. He let out a groan but didn't flinch as she raised her fists again.

"Wait!" Veanna called at last, her voice strangled and high-pitched. "Please, Tia, stop!" She grasped Tia's arm before she could rain down blows on the man lying in the dirt. She couldn't stand back and watch him beaten - or even killed, if the blind rage in the Outlander's eyes was any indication.

Tia halted, but didn't respond, her face contorted in fury as she glared at Neyerith. He was silent too, breathing heavily but just staring up as though waiting for the next strike.

"You can't... He's not..." Veanna stuttered, unable to come up with a good reason not to punish him for his apparent treachery, but equally unable to watch him accept his fate. She was grateful Tia hadn't gone for her sword, though her savage punches weren't much kinder. Worst of all, he lay there, not trying to defend himself - it was like he knew he deserved it.

"There is only one person who knows I am with you, only one person in a position to collect a reward for my head and your return," Tia growled, not lifting her gaze. Her knuckles were already red, and she looked ready to continue until they were bloody and raw.

Veanna shook her head, staring at Neyerith's bruising face. His eyes shifted to hers, dull with resignation. "Tell me you didn't," she whispered. She didn't trust him, couldn't trust him, yet nor could she bring herself to believe he had turned his back on them so quickly.

There was a beat in which her stomach twisted. "I haven't told a soul about you," he replied softly, wincing as he murmured past his bleeding lips. Her heart skipped - she couldn't trust a word he said, yet she was certain he spoke the truth.

Tia clearly didn't agree. "Why should we believe you?" she snarled, grabbing a fistful of his tunic and shaking him roughly, drawing his eyes back to her.

"Firstly," he turned his head and spat blood on the ground, then cleared his throat and spoke a little more firmly. "There's the purely selfish reason that it would cost me my life. I don't fancy my chances taking you out, and I doubt our Princess would go along with me quietly. Even if I did get her to Beyall by myself, I'd hardly be given the benefit of the doubt that I wasn't involved in her kidnapping."

Tia's jaw clenched and she looked like she thought some more violence would speed him along, but she remained silent and allowed him to continue. Her grip on his clothes didn't let up, her knuckles turning white beneath the developing bruises.

"And secondly, it's not like I've had a chance to tell anyone about you, let alone make a load of posters and put them around towns we've only just reached."

"You said yourself that you recognised Veanna as soon as you saw her," Tia countered, her voice harsh. She sounded sick of betrayal. "You could easily have told someone in Ironclaw and claimed the reward for both of us when we arrived in Beyall. Maybe you would even be able to bribe your way back into favour after all of your treachery."

He gave a hollow laugh, a sound that was so wrong in this moment. "Somehow I don't think so."

"Why not?" Veanna asked abruptly. Amid the suspicion and secrecy, she had to try and grasp some truth. "Why were you banished?" Tia loomed over him, ready at any moment to resume her attack, but it was Veanna's eyes his gaze locked onto.