Roadside Attack
Although twilight had only just barely begun to touch the sky, Octavia put her book aside and rubbed at her eyes and temples. The strain of reading in opposition to the bumps and jostles of the moving carriage had made her nearly constant headache bordering on an eye searing migraine. Besides that Caspian wanted minimal light as they traveled to not stick out like a sore thumb as they did. Octavia sat silently with her thoughts, thinking of the tenants of The Fair Lady. The new ideas in her mind twisted like a pretzel against her notions of The High Church. Among them was the ideas of balance, rightful vengeance, and swearing protection against the weak. A part of her, though she knew it was wrong, saw something in that way of thinking. Another part of her wondered how that was any different than punishment for not believing in The High Church, but she knew deep down it was. Despite the underlying fear she felt seeing Sunder, given his legend and personal aura, she also saw something noble in him. Someone willing to throw their life at protecting someone, or rather many, just for the sake of protecting them was almost unheard of in her circles. Most would only save you if it was of some personal benefit to them. Be it maintaining numbers, or means of life debts or favors. A way of life for her, seemingly normal or at least mundane and routine, it never sat quite well with her. What was the point in a fellowship, by textbook definition if not to help and look out for one another, not simply having more numbers?
Caspian watched as Octavia sat aside the large tome she was reading and rubbed at her eyes and head. That girl was almost more trouble than she was worth, he’d have gladly brought along any of the other young sisters of The High Church, but Octavia was the best option. None of the others were quite the wellspring of knowledge she was, or able to absorb and hold onto new information quite as quickly. Had she not been broken since the beginning she’d be invaluable. Her bountiful power squandered, a body not fit to use that power given to it, and an illness better let to die in the bloodline. A morbidly curious thing, part of him was sickened, part of him fascinated by the fact such a lowsome creature would make it so far in the church, and be granted the book. Other thoughts squirmed through his head as he feigned looking out the window, side eyeing the young nun. Caspian stared side eyeing the nun until she grimaced as her pointer and middle fingers did lazy circles against her temples, causing himself to grimace slightly, not in empathy but disgust. Turning away to actually look out the window and the coming forest night. “Are you quite done?” he asked.
Octavia opened bleary eyes, blinking slowly as she came back to herself and adjusted to the low but present light inside the carriage. “Pardon?” she asked confusedly.
“Pardon?” Caspian asked. “Manners girl.” he snapped.
“Pardon me Brother Caspian, I did not hear what you said.” she corrected herself.
Caspian gave her a bitter look. “Of course you didn’t hear me…” he said, “If you’ve taken a break you must have found something, yes?” he asked, this tone telling her to not make him ask for her to say it.
“No, Brother Caspian…I’ve found nothing new.” she said, “Only what I have told you prior.” Octavia shifted in her seat. “I don’t think…”
Caspian cut her off “I am not asking you to think I am asking for you to know.” he said.
Octavia continued on anyway. “Killing Sunder won’t be as simple as was first believed.” she shifted again nervously, “You can’t just kill a Paladin, even one of an opposing order, there are rules, and it would…it could…only be settled in a duel.”
“He is no Paladin…” Caspian said, “He’s no more than a common mercenary.” he said, letting out a dismissive sound. “He’s probably not even the same man under that helmet that he was but a year ago.”
“I do not understand.” Octavia said.
“He is a myth.” Caspian offered, and gestured to where the helmet would be. “Why do you think such a refusal to show his face? It's no more than a scare tactic, the armor is cheap and brittle, they simply parade around the idea of an unkillable angel of vengeance working for ‘The Fair Lady’s’ Chosen’ he will die like any other man.”
Dimly outside the carriage Octavia heard an odd sound, something like a bird call but not one she’d ever heard, it was pitched like a whistle. Then she heard it again farther ahead. And another, all calling in kind. Then the carriage stopped abruptly so much so it knocked her off balance and onto the floor. And she was lucky she did, as a scream of terror came from the driver and a crossbow bolt roughly the size around as Octavia’s wrist slammed through the wall half way the head of the bolt burying itself where she’d been sitting only a moment ago. The realization struck her instantly as she scrambled over to Caspain’s side of the carriage, even his bitterness sapped away in that moment. “By Ataiias…” Caspian croaked almost inaudibly.
Octavia turned to look at the door, wanting escape. Knowing that they were just easy targets, caged animals in this carriage. Then she saw it. A hulking figure tossed aside a crossbow more like a small ballista, and it started sprinting at the carriage. A thing so big that even if it curled into a tight ball it was unlikely to have been able to fit in the carriage. As it came closer she could see its features more clearly, just before it slammed into the carriage toppling it. The realization of what had attacked flashed in her head in an instant before she fell to what was the left wall of the carriage now laying on the road on its side. She felt glass from the windows pricking her skin, her head pounding from bouncing off the wood.
“What hit us?” Caspian gasped trying to get his breath back after falling incorrectly.
Octavia pulled herself together and sat in a place with no glass. “I…I can’t be sure but it looked like the offspring of a goliath and an orc…” she said with a hard dry swallow. Without feeling herself doing it she was sitting on her knees, hands clasped before her head inclined down. She was even dimly aware of her own prayers coming from her lips. “Please…Erroram, spare us death today. Joi, Divine Goddess of Luck…Send us a hero.”
Caspian let out a scream of terror, and Octavia looked up to see the orcish goliath looking through one of the windows, she ducked her head, feeling hot tears on her cheeks as she redoubled her prayers repeating them with as much conviction her soul could manage and her lips could form the words, hearing a large snapping of wood outside she tried to go faster, fear making the words hitch in her throat. A deep bassy laugh, cut through the silent night, and the woosh sound of practice swings of a fresh wooden club. “Fun…SO FUN!” the beast of a man shouted, and started to laugh again but stopped abruptly hearing the same thing Octavia and Caspian did. A melodic, hollow echoing whistle of a song, none of them knew but the melody was haunting, and carried a threat to it. Octavia scrambled to her knees and tried to get to the back of the carriage to look through the hole that was once the window to see what the sound was, seeing a distant flickering flame of a torch.~
Octavia gasped and clasped her hands saying a “Thank you” to her gods. Rattled free from her thoughts as the hulking man stepped towards the back of the carriage, the ground thought it didn’t shake Octavia could feel his footfalls.
The man bellowed a laugh, “Your guard is slow.” he said.
“Our guard?” Caspian’s face twisted in confusion as he leaned to see out the window as well. Caspian felt a new surge of confidence flood into him. The High Church must have sent church knights to trail them and make sure things went smoothly. Even if this brute had a dozen men hiding in the trees they stood no chance against an army.