Wrought of Iron and Silk, Book One [2014 Watty Award Winner]

Chapter 27 - Mercy

❝Did they get you to trade, your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange a walk on part in the war, for a lead role in a cage?❞ - Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here

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Chapter 27 – Mercy

Despite all her pain and misgivings, Cecilia rode across the outskirts of the tortured battlefield, navigating between bodies and barricades. The ghosts of the battlefield besieged her. She watched with tear-filled eyes as they swarmed around her, their faces frozen in the grimace of death. They called to her, beseeched her, but she did not shrink from them. She would not cower. Silently, she acknowledged them all, recognizing the debt she owed them.

She dismounted and, pulling her gaze from the carnage, searched the surrounding area with her senses. Death on the battlefield she could handle. She'd long ago forced herself to shield her emotions. The men she fought were prepared to die, she told herself time and time again, hardening herself to the sounds of death until even the pitiful cries of the wounded failed to give her nightmares. And no matter what horrors she saw, no matter what she was forced to do, she always knew she had Loki and a home to go to, a block of normality in her chaotic world.

But this? This wasn't a battlefield; it was the wholesale slaughter of innocent men. She'd seen it before of course, though never had she felt so responsible. Rilien left destruction in his wake as easily as a rampaging boar left a path of broken twigs. What made this different, what made it so much more personal wasn't the decimation, but that this was someplace she had thought was safe. She'd been wrong. Her legs felt boneless, unable to support her weight, and she stumbled forward to keep from falling. Loki, the anchor holding her life in place, was out there amid the bloodshed, leaving her lost, adrift and floundering.

Bloated ravens and crows struggled to fly as her shuffling presence disturbed their last meals. Most made it, but a few waddled off on stick legs to hide in the underbrush. Worse were the rats. They didn't move away like birds, instead they stood their ground and gazed up at her with red, baleful eyes. She could almost swear there was intelligence behind those hateful stares.

Abruptly, she felt an irrational surge of anger. She ran forward, screaming and waving her arms, driving the rats from the closest victim. She stood for a moment and stared down at the body under her feet, seeing it, but not taking it in. What if it had been Loki? What if he was meeting his end while she squandered away time on the outskirts of the battlefield? Fretful, Cecilia sprinted back to her horse and mounted the beast.

They thundered across the flat land. The smells of wild leek and heather grew pungent. Cecilia had never seen a battle of this magnitude and her heart hammered with the force of her mare's hooves. She asked her spirit for strength, ability and courage to what she must in taking lives. Among the dead and the dying, through the blood and a thousand horrors, without food or shelter, without help or protection, Cecilia sought for Loki.

Then from her mount, she saw him. As Thor led the charge, shouting to his men to keep advancing forward as the lines broke down and the melee between Asgard and Vanaheim began, Loki, veiled as the All-Father, fought alongside his army, plunging his sword into each enemy soldier that crossed his path.

Fighting three Vanir at once, he could be no other than her King. Skirting the reach of the first man, Loki wounded the second one with his sword. The third was not faring well, due to a powerful sword thrust and a sharp kick to his midsection that required a physical strength that most men envied.

Two more Vanir replaced the ones who had fallen, approaching Loki from behind. He was still engaged with the third of the initial three attackers, and Cecilia knew he did not see their approach. Her hackles rose, along with her protective instincts. Why was no one guarding the All-Father's back?