The two men traveled quickly through the thick forest, stopping often to check the ground for signs of their quarry. Although they had encountered quite a few bent and broken plants and numerous signs of bleeding foes, they had yet to catch up to the group of Devas that was fleeing ahead of them, and certainly they had not found any stragglers left behind along the way.
As the men pushed further into the darkness of the Oblivion Woods, Old Ben brought a hand up, signaling a halt. He peered at the ground with a frown on his face before slipping from his mount and leaning closer to the soil to get a good look. Jonathan pulled his own mount up, watching the old soldier work with his own frown firmly in place.
"Find something?" Jonathan asked, looking around at the dense foliage that surrounded them. They were in a narrow channel that must have been carved by the flow of rainwater over the years, with rocky outcroppings rising up on either side of them, trees clinging to the rocks and making a thick canopy that cut off much of the sunlight on the forest floor.
Old Ben grunted, shaking his head before rising and spitting on the ground, "The trail just stops here, as if it never was. There's no sign of them splitting up. No bodies, no weapons. Nothing. In all my years I've never seen someone obliterate a trail so cleanly before."
Alarmed, Jonathan slipped from his own mount, patting it to reassure the beast before stepping closer and studying the forest floor himself. It was as Old Ben said; the ground went from being heavily trampled by multiple people to being completely devoid of any signs of anyone having passed over it. Feeling even more alarmed, he turned to look at Old Ben, the two coming to an understanding in a moment.
"It's a trap," Jonathan said.
Old Ben nodded and spit again, "Yep. Trap."
The two drew their weapons just as the foliage on the rocky outcroppings on either side of the path began to shake as figures rose up from their hiding places. Both rises had at least seven or eight Devas on them, most armed with wicked looking blades, axes, or pikes but one on each side appearing to be higher ranked cultists with some knowledge of spellwork. Old Ben set an arrow to his bowstring as Jonathan prepared his twin swords, the two standing back to back as they realized the odds were against them.
"Ain't gonna be a good ending, Captain," Old Ben said. "Gonna hafta take as many as we can with us."
Jonathan tightened his grip on his swords as he prepared for what would likely be his final battle, his voice tense as he responded, "Aye."
Above them the Devas had already begun their attack, their warriors fanning out and starting their way down the slope on both sides of the trail. The two leaders of the ambush both grinned beneath their hideous leather masks, one of them already beginning to chant, fire starting to burn at his fingertips. Their two victims remained in place, keeping their backs together to enhance their defenses as much as possible in the sudden ambush.
One of the two cult leaders had nearly finished his spell when the ambush met an ambush of its own. Just as the Deva had begun to shout the last words of his spell, he suddenly gasped as the steel tip of a lance punched through his back and out of his chest. He looked down at it in shock, blood pouring from the wound as he began to slide off of the long metal object. The sudden silencing of his voice made the Devas on the right side of the trail pause and look back in surprise. It also drew Jonathan's gaze up the rocky outcropping. What he saw made his eyes widen in surprise.
Bellesta stood triumphantly on the top of the hill, her lance tip bloodied and her shield in hand. She gave Jonathan a little wave which sent the long lance flapping in front of her before she turned her gaze to the Devas below her. Although heavily outnumbered, Bellesta didn't seem to consider the odds as she began a heroic and utterly idiotic charge down the hillside into the mass of enemies that outnumbered her five to one.
Jonathan closed his eyes, not wanting to see the heroic if somewhat air-headed Castanic die at the hands of their enemies, but as he soon found out, the Gods often amused themselves when given the opportunity. In her ill-fated charge, Bellesta did not anticipate the slope of the rocks, the moss covering them, or the fact that she had insisted on wearing high heels on her plate boots as many of her people had a habit of doing. As she plunged down the slope at high speeds, a miscalculated step and some slippery moss did part of the work, while plain old gravity assisted with the rest.
Instead of heroically charging to her death, Bellesta tumbled forward and then went airborne, her ungraceful, inexperienced charge turning into a majestic flight shield-first down the side of the hill. Regrettably her flight was short lived, and even more regrettably for the Devas that had been prepared to attack her, they were the reason for the abrupt end of her flight. The first three never even knew what hit them as the armored Castanic slammed into them at high speed, bowling them over and tossing them backwards into their companions.
Devas flew backwards, slamming into one another and tumbling down the slope in heaps. Atop them Bellesta continued her own fall, her shield acting almost as a sled upon their soft flesh as she bounce off of one, crushed another, and slid over more of them. The clatter of metal on stone and flesh was enough to make Jonathan open his eyes in time to see a mass of leather clad Devas and mostly naked Castanic land in a heap of writhing limbs on the ground at the edge of the slope. In one accidental blow, Bellesta had unintentionally disabled half the ambush.
Battle-hardened and experienced from years of warfare, Old Ben didn't waste a moment in seizing upon the advantage the misguided Castanic woman had given them. In a flash his bow jerked to the side and released an arrow, the deadly projectile lodging in the throat of the second spellcaster. Equally used to combat, Jonathan whirled around his companion, slamming into the oncoming wave of attackers from the other side of the path and cutting two down in an impressive display of swordsmanship.
As Old Ben peppered the attackers on that side with more arrows, Jonathan plunged into the melee, vowing to take advantage of the mess Bellesta had made of the ambush and hoping that his unlikely rescuer was alive. Behind the two men, the mass of Devas groaned and attempted to rise, one figure standing out amongst them as she rose up from amongst the pile of twisted limbs.
Bellesta had somehow managed to retain her grip on her lance and shield, and as she rose up she began to employ the weapons in her amateurish way, slamming the edge of the shield on the skulls of those who were still conscious and piercing one Deva through the arm with the lance tip as he attempted to regain his blade.
With the groaning mass of enemies mostly incapacitated, Bellesta turned her head, her black hair whipping around her as she took in the rest of the situation. Her companions were fighting against fierce enemies, but now that they had only one side of the trail to worry about they were holding their own. What they did not notice and what she immediately spotted was a small group of Devas attempting to sneak around behind them. Without even thinking much of it she grasped her lance more tightly and set her heels to the ground, bracing her self before dashing off and picking up great speed.
Jonathan had just cut down another enemy as one of the Devas beside him took an arrow to the neck and fell amongst the wounded. With those deaths the foes they had been fighting lost their nerve and began to flee, giving him a much needed respite from the battle. He turned to look at Old Ben when he again found himself surprised. Behind the two men a pack of Devas had broken from the foliage and begun to charge, bearing down on Old Ben's unprotected back. Jonathan shouted, dashing towards the attackers and causing Old Ben to whirl and then stumble backwards as he avoided the first slash from the closest of the Devas.
Just as Jonathan met up with the leading cultists and crossed blades with them, a warcry echoed out through the valley. He turned his head to see Bellesta charging in, lance extended and shield set against her arm, her body moving at full speed as she slammed into the side of the Deva attack.
Although Bellesta only managed to wound one of the cultists, the ferocity of her untrained attack sent her enemies reeling. Jonathan managed to cut down another of the Devas as he watched Bellesta move. As in the tavern, she displayed a natural talent for mayhem once she was in battle, the graceful movements of her body keeping her naked flesh clear of enemy weapons while her own shield was bashed repeatedly into skulls and her lance pierced through the bodies of her foes.
With Jonathan and Old Ben pressing the edge of their party and Bellesta making a delightful mess of any formation they might have formed, the cultists found themselves quickly being battered into submission and several of them broke and ran. To Jonathan's surprise, Bellesta was so enthused to continue the battle that she actually ran after them, her charge paused only long enough for her to reach down and snatch some manacles and chains from one of the fallen Devas which she then threw like a projectile.
Her target was struck in the legs as he ran from the field at full speed. Entangled, he tripped and fell on his own blade. Jonathan winced as he saw the bloody tip sticking from the Deva's side and he paused to survey the battlefield.
There were no more attackers, and besides for the frantic calls of the Devas who were fleeing through the woods, the sounds of battle had come to a close. Jonathan sighed with relief, cleaning his weapons before sheathing them and nodding to Old Ben. The old soldier grinned and then glanced to his right as Bellesta bounded over to them. The Castanic woman was breathing hard but had a beautiful smile on her face, as if she didn't understand how close they'd all come to being slain by the Devas.
"See?! I told you I could be totally useful!" Bellesta said happily. She planted the tip of her lance in the ground beside her and began to unfasten her shield from her arm as she nodded at the two men.
"Yes...I suppose you were," Jonathan conceded. "Even so, you were nearly killed. This is why we wanted you to stay in town."
"Well so were you!" Bellesta said, gesturing around them. "I totally helped you and you know it! Now you have to let me come with you the rest of the way."
Jonathan sighed again, trying to think of some way to dissuade the Castanic woman when he felt Old Ben's hand clamp down on his shoulder. The old soldier looked at him and grinned, "She's right, Captain. Can't argue with her now when you see the results. I was against it too, but I'll be struck blind by the Gods if I won't take a gift when I see one. She's got talent and this won't be the last fight. Let's just take her along and not waste any more time."
Bellesta squealed with delight and dashed over to hug the old man, which made him turn several rather amusing shades of red. Jonathan sighed again and then looked at the forest around them; the forest that was now covered with the bodies of their foes thanks to Bellesta's unexpected appearance.
Although he knew somehow he was going to regret it, he shook his head and gave in, his voice firm, "Fine, she can come with us. But you have to do exactly as you're told. I don't want you wandering off alone when we're near the enemy. We stick together and get this done. Got it?"
Bellesta clapped excitedly, nodding before bringing a hand up to her chest. She made an 'X' over her heart with her fingers and she replied solemnly, "Cross my heart, Captain!"
Jonathan sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples as he turned towards his horse. It was going to be quite the adventure now, but just maybe the three of them would ensure that no other innocents were hunted down by the Devas again. With that in mind, his purpose was clear and his course set.
He just hoped he wasn't about to regret the choices he'd made over the past few days.
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