Nolita rode behind the High Cassara, she was alert but not entirely focused on her charge. The slightest rustle of leaves to the southwest caught her attention. It sounded heavier than mere forest animals, but she saw nothing nor heard anything else after that so she settled back down into her saddle.

Esric saw the tension in her back and the slight thinning of her lips in concentration. "Are we followed?" he asked quietly in Ailsan. He had noted that the soldiers did not like their foreign tongue, but he didn't want to set them on edge over nothing. Nolita shook her head. "I do not believe so." she answered in Common, a subtle but stern reprimand for his using Ailsan and possibly for asking the question at all.

"They seem to be getting along nicely." Nolita commented quietly to no one in particular. Though perhaps to Esric. "I think this will be a fine alliance, if they can get past their own pride... Better still if they can get past each other's." Nolita knew more than perhaps a guardsmen ought, but she was wise for her years or so many thought. Though, she had been thought very young for a decade and a half, so perhaps she was not as wise as she was simply experienced; since hers was a face that seemed nearly untouched by time's travel.

Marius frowned grimly. Dragonhalle was nothing like this. The land was eaten away by dragonstone quarries and riddled with sulfur deposits, giving it an unpleasant stench. Every now and then, a geyser would burst, spewing more sulfur into the air. Most of the land was barren, with the odd outcropping of hardy bush. It was believed that the land was cursed by the dragons when they died.

Castle Dragonhalle may have towered over the land at one time, but now several of its walls had collapsed, leaving only parts of the original building standing. A new outer wall had been built to protect against seiges, but remnants of the previous one laid about in piles. The keep itself had never been rebuilt. A good portion of it still stood and provided the royal family with living quarters, but that was the only purpose the keep served these days. A separate building had been built for war counsels, great banquets, balls, and anything else that involved more than just the royal family. However, that building had been hidden behind the crumbling keep for the same reason that the entire castle had never been rebuilt. The lords of Dragonhalle insisted that the ruins made it look more foreboding.

The only pleasant thing about Dragonhalle was the river and mountains at it's back. And even those were said to be infested with man-eating beasts.

Sometimes, Marius wished he hadn't been born a prince of Dragonhalle and cursed whatever god had done this to him. To inherit Dragonhalle was almost a joke. The other kingdoms certainly didn't take them seriously. Marius didn't look at the princess. "Dragonhalle in nothing like this. You would not like it, princess," he said flatly, and for that, he was truly sorry.

Marius was too distracted by his thoughts to notice the sudden lull.

Trulin frowned. Wanting to argue that she would like it. But she realized that was simply her being contrary so she kept silent for a long time.

"I have heard that Dragonhalle is a hard country... A hard country breeds strength, this is a good thing." she said, trying in an almost fumbling way to make a compliment. She was irked that she had allowed things to go down hill so quickly with her husband to be, while they would probably never be fond of each other, perhaps they might form a tentative ... companionship. If nothing else, she wanted respect and the only way to get that was to show a degree of it in return.

Lir poked his head out of the saddle bag and eyed Marius with suspecion. As if to say, You better be good to me and my mommy, or I'm gunna nip off something... Already the pup was very protective of its mistress.

It was a weak attempt at kindness, but an attempt nonetheless. Marius had to smile at that. Dancer shied away from the princess and her horse. Lir still made him a little nervous. It was strange to Marius that such a mighty warhorse would be scared of the little beast. "Ah," he said as he pulled the reins to bring Dancer back in line. "So I may be grotesque, but at least I'm strong, right?" He laughed a little, awkwardly, still uneasy with thoughts of Dragonhalle. It would be his someday, and he needed to come to terms with that fact. And if his father had his way, maybe all of the five kingdoms would be his.

Somehow, that thought didn't help his mood. He had never really cared for power. But he would never tell his father that. That path led straight to an early death. And gods only knew how his wife-to-be would feel about that information.

"My lord," Tiago said, as he drew his horse up next to Marius's. "We've found a place to cross. It is less than a mile ahead."

Marius nodded in acknowledgement, thanked Tiago, and dismissed him.

With both rivers to her back, Thalia knew she was in Dragonhalle. The beautiful greens had long disappeared. The moss covered rocks and trees yielded to dry, red dirt and stale air. Thalia had several coughing fits before she was used to it, and her eyes stung. She could feel the tears well up. It was no wonder that her supposed lover's wife wouldn't follow her here. How anyone could actually live here was beyond her comprehension.

Spitfire took slow, careful steps, dancing on tiptoe around the red rubble. Drawing up Spitfire to a halt, Thalia dismounted, hoping lessening the weight might help to soothe Spitfire's nerves. She didn't blame him. The place set her on edge, and animals were much more receptive to these things than humans. Thalia prayed to the Gods, hoping all of Dragonhalle wouldn't be like this.

Trulin couldn't help the wide grin that broke across her face. Making her look less like a fierce warrior and more like the princess she was supposed to be. She turned to look at him, still smiling. "Ah yes, how terribly hideous." she rolled her eyes, baffled and amused that he still seemed offended. "But see, strength itself is a sort of beauty... Perhaps someday you will learn what I mean." she chuckled a little to herself, returning her pale blue gaze to the road.

Lir saw the horse shy and a sparkle of comprehension twinkled in the little creature's eyes. It barely uttered a sound, before Trulin rudely pulled the flap down over its head forcing it to retreat back into her saddle bag. "He's young, I'm sure he will learn better manners with time." the bag shuffled and twitched as though to argue with her statement but she patted it firmly and he settled.

At hearing that they would soon cross she looked back at her guards, silently telling them to keep alert. Crossing water was always a risk in her opinion, you lost a good deal of your ability to hear over the babble of any stream, if she intended to cause trouble she would do it when her prey was near or on the water... She couldn't help her mind wandering into defense strategies, it was only her nature to fight and protect.

Shayden knew very well where the prince and his bride to be, and company would cross the river. He also knew the road they would take, as it was most direct to dragonhalle. He also knew, the small horse trail that met with that road and that it would be only a short ways behind this merging that the robbers would attach them. Best of all this little horse trail led to a town not too many miles away where he would be said to have done business for his father, Duke Fontain. A rich noblemen from Dragonhalle, a man rumored to be dead or ill for he had not been seen in a decade and a half. Having passed money over the proper hands, Shayden had acquired all the papers he'd need to prove himself the proper son and heir to Duke Fontain. And better still, to prove his wealth.

Waiting with his man Airon and their four guards. All well trained men of his true father, the King, they waited silently astride their horses swords in sheath but every muscle tense and at the ready to spring into action when they heard the tell tale sounds of a skirmish. "You really think this will work?" Airon asked quietly. Shayden smiled, "of course it will." he replied and winked. "I'm too determined for it not to." he said and then they all fell silent.

Marius smiled. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to abandon his diplomacy. The princess was starting to smile. Hell, even he was starting to smile. The princess still held that haughty, holier-than-thou air, but at least she wasn't so brusque. Perhaps he could even fool his father into believing he was happy to go through with this union.

The trees thinned, revealing a small clearing where the men who had ridden ahead to scout for a place shallow enough to cross had stopped, waiting for them to catch up. Two of his guards, along with Nolita and Esric, rode behind them, protecting from the rear.

Stopped to prepare to cross, several of the horses leaned down to graze, riders still atop them. The leaves of the trees above them blocked some of the sunlight and cast an emerald haze over the clearing. Golden rays played on the water as it rushed over stones smoothed through the years. Marius thought to bring one of the smaller stones back for his mother. She liked pretty things like that. Sometimes, Marius thought that his mother held so many balls just so that she could see some beauty in the ugly land of Dragonhalle. Then, he remembered his mother just loved the chance to regain the people's focus. Remind them who was in charge. . . Exert her authority over Father.

Trulin was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn't notice the princess's withdrawal from the conversation. An instinct as deep and primal as it was reliable, told her something was wrong. She didn't know why, but she could almost smell it on the air. She kept it to herself however, she didn't want to startle the rest of them on account of nothing she could clearly identify. It is just different from your jungle... It will be well. She thought, and mentally exhaled the breath she was holding.

"I don't like to linger on the road... It invites trouble." she said aloud, edging her horse closer towards the water, wanting to cross it quickly so she could get past the most vulnerable part of the journey yet. "Shall we continue?" she asked Marius. Though, she termed it in her mind that he was simply a guide who knew the land better, and so she did not allow it to appear as asking permission. Though she knew the truth, she decided to ignore it for the time being. He seemed more pleasant when she acted more maidenly. "And it makes me... Nervous." she added, hoping the sound of a more "Female" emotion might urge him on in gentler way.

Don't tell me the mighty warrior is scared. Marius bit his tongue. He could never be certain what would offend the princess. "Yes, of course," he said instead. Truly, there was no need to linger. His men were already crossing, the horses splashing through the water. Mud swirled up around their hooves. Marius nudged Dancer closer to the princess's horse and reached out. He pulled his hand back, not quite sure what he was doing. Clearing his throat, he swept his hand out towards the river. "This way, princess." By then, all his men had crossed but Dimitar Arnau, a younger, less-experienced knight. Dimitar had never seen war, and had only swung his sword in the lists. As ferociously as he fought in the lists, you could never be certain of skill in the field until the opportunity arose.

Trulin saw him reach out to her and then pull back, turning the gesture into a more sweeping one. She had absolutely no idea what that was about, but she merely quirked a brow at him then clicked her tongue to start her horse moving again and strode into the water, it only went up half way to the horse's knees but it was a wise spot and she wanted to kick into a trot to get past it faster but she refrained on account of not wanting to look uptight.

They made it to the other side of the river without any mishaps. Trulin followed the knights already on a wagon road away from the river. Something felt wrong, she felt like she was being watched.


Behind the shrubbery and in several of the overhead trees, nearly twenty men lay in wait for the prince and his bride to be. They were all of varying ages and sizes, and level of underhanded. Mostly the run of the mill robbers crouched in the trees, waiting to drop from above onto those astride horses. Most of the more sensible and better skilled mercenaries were on the ground, hiding just out of sight.

A young woman up the road, lay moaning and crying for she had "fallen from her horse and broken her leg". Her son, a boy of only eight or nine squatted next to her, his face streaked with tears. Upon seeing the knights she wailed louder. "Oh, brave knights! Help me for I have fallen and broken my leg, and my horse has run away!"

Trulin stopped and drew her horse very close to Marius. Whispering, while smiling compassionately at the woman. She laid her hand on his arm and said, "Let us gallop away from here, I feel this is more than it seems..." And I mean I'd bet my weight in emeralds this is a trap!

Marius pulled his horse around to the other side of the princess, putting himself between her and the woman. He looked from the princess to the woman, deliberating. It could be a trap. He understood what was making the princess so nervous. He felt it, too. But what if it wasn't a trap? He had too much of a heart to just leave a helpless woman and her son alone in the forest to die. Or worse yet, thieves and vagabonds could stumble across them. It was of the highest dishonor to take an unwilling woman. Marius looked up, searching the trees and finding nothing.

"Come," he said, grabbing the princess's upper arm and pulling her away. He did not look to the princess, but rather kept his gaze on the woman. "My good lady," he called out. "Have no worries. You shall have help." Marius called for Tiago. "Help this woman. You and Dimitar should be enough. See her safely to the nearest inn. The rest of us shall continue on. I trust you can catch up." It would not do well for him if Tiago and Dimitar didn't reunite with them before they reached Dragonhalle. His father may be of the opinion that kindness to women is almost as important as power, but he had also given the knights orders to stay with Marius and his bride.

Many things about the king of Dragonhalle confused Marius. He did not understand how his father could be so cruel, and yet demand respect and honor for women. His mother tried to explain it to him once. A woman, she had said, holds much power over man. Marius took that to mean that his father yearned for power so much that he needed control of a woman's power, and he feared that same power. He feared losing that power. He feared being controlled by that power. He feared. It must not be said that the Dragon King feared.

The Dragon King feared nothing.

"Come, come," he said with a sense of urgency. He led her away with a hand on the small of her back. "Quickly now, pr--" He didn't dare call her princess. It was quite obvious, but announcing it to common thieves waiting in the trees would be disastrous. "Quickly now," he said again, this time whispering.

Somewhere in the trees, a bird called to its mate.

Many things happened at once, as the two knight's dismounted to help the woman the snapping of ropes could be heard from somewhere to the east of the road and above everyone's head. Also, a dozen men rushed out from the densely gathered trees all around them. War cries and battle calls filled the air almost to deafening.

In the commotion only two of the eight or so rider's saw the huge tree trunks hurtling towards them on ropes, they were more than two feet in diameter and perhaps nine feet long, stripped of most branches and blunt on either end like swinging battering rams. They knocked four rides off their horses, and hit two more horses in shoulder or the side causing them to fall onto their rides. Only of eight intended victims was able to perry out of the way in time.

Esric, being one of the few not hit by the swinging battering rams, was fast off his own horse and off to the men on the ground, forcing a horse off one knight and then protecting the few that were either too stunned, hurt or knocked out currently to protect themselves. A man did not let a warrior be killed by cheap tricks or low dogs willing to use them. "UP! GET UP! I CAN'T SAVE YOUR HIDES WITHOUT SOME HELP!" he barked.

A particularly lean but agile attacker dropped from above onto the back of Trulin's mare, causing both mare and rider call for alarm. The horse reared, Trulin stabbed him in the side with the dagger she kept concealed on her forearm. He wrapped his arms around her, and drug her off the horse with him as he fell. She twisted around and ripped the blade sideways and upwards making an L-shaped wound that no doubt penetrated his intestines and stomach. He would not live, but she quickly riggled out of his grasp and snapped his neck to end it more quickly.

Meanwhile, another somewhat more muscular thief bounded from behind and leapt onto the back of the horse belonging to Marius. Quickly swinging a blade around to his throat.


Hearing his que, Shayden kicked his horse into a gallop towards the fray. Already swords were draw and blood spilling by the time he and his men arrived. A his six guardsmen and friend Airon all rushed in, "FOR FONTAIN!" Most cried loudly. Shayden rode in, sword drawn and glittering in the noon day sun, he hacked and slashed and in seconds two men fell lifeless to the ground before his horse. He drew a knife and even from horseback threw it, killing the man about to slit the Prince's pretty throat. He stopped winked at him and then bellowed loudly again, this time merely a battle cry. No distinct words could be understood. And the fight really got heated!

(check OOC)

Marius had his sword drawn as soon as the sound of the first ropes snapping was heard. The princess was right to be nervous and Marius had to acknowledge her sharp senses.

He had just elbowed the man behind him in the gut and twisted the knife out of his hand when a dagger went whirring past his face, barely grazing his cheek as the blade embedded itself in the chest of the ruffian behind. Marius gave the knife thrower a sharp glare and kicked Dancer's sides. Dancer bolted into the chaos. Another thief came at Marius with a rusty half-sword that was obviously not forged for him. Its balance was all off and the wielder couldn't seem to hold it right. As the thief screamed and ran at them, Dancer reared. The man would have ripped Dancer open from flank to flank if Marius hadn't swung from his saddle, planting his feet directly on the man's chest before landing. Without a second thought, Marius sliced the man's throat and moved on.

A man crept up on the princess, who was occupied with another. Marius slashed his way through two other men and a woman (Gods help him, he'd slain a woman. Granted, she was missing several teeth and an eye, the hair she still had was matted, and she smelled as though she hadn't bathed since the time of the dragons.) and rammed his sword up through the man's back. He jerked his sword up as he pulled it out, dripping, red and glistening with the life blood of the low born.

From behind, the princess didn't appear to be hurt. Marius put his back to her. "Keep your back to mine," he said. Blood dripped down his forearm from a shallow cut. With no immediate attacker to deal with, he quickly wiped the blood away. If it kept bleeding, he'd have to switch sword hands. It wasn't a problem for him. He had trained equally with both hands. But it would be a great disadvantage if his sword was slippery.

Trulin turned around immediately after breaking the man's neck to see if Marius was alright. He was her mate, already she instinctively he was under her protection, but just as she saw him struggle a blade landed in the brute's chest. She jerked her gaze away to find the origin of the blade to see a man, with hair the color of spun sunlight and rich gold wink at Marius and then proceed to cut down a man attacking him from the side.

A woman who shrieked like a harpy landed a fair blow to Trulin's cheek, as she turned back around and was jumping to her feet. The blow surprised her, but did not stall the motion of her sword as it pierce through the woman's belling and burst through her back in a bloody spire. Trulin jerked her blade free before the woman could fall and take it with her. Then Marius was at her back, commanding her to stay at his back. "Sey Miek ne' otmo!" She raged. "Why are the handsome ones all fools!" she barked angrily. "This is why I ne--Kepni. Marius duck!" she ordered, a giant of a man swung a club more to scale with a small tree. She curled and rolled forward, rolling several feet she uncurled just as she went between his legs and thrust her heels upwards hitting him in the groin as he fell forward she leapt up and onto his back, thrusting her sword straight down, she severed his spinal cord where his neck met his shoulders. She didn't pause before leaping down again, and putting her back to Marius again. "Next time I say trap, you better listen!" she bellowed above the roar of the battle.

Shayden would have preferred it if he could fight with his staff instead of his sword, he'd always disliked things of solid unyeilding metal. It didn't feel like an extension of himself but instead a cold club he had to make graceful somehow... It was not his favorite weapon to say the least, though as a Prince of Riverstone, he was more than expected to be proficient in all the weaponry of the Five kingdoms.

A woman threw some vile smelling yellow powder at his horse's head, who bulked and shied from it. He kicked her in the face, driving the heel of his boot hard down on her nose breaking it. She fell to her knees in pain, no longer a threat he urged Cliff forward, away from the yellow dust. The horse snorted and shrieked its discomfort at the encounter but obeyed his master completely.

Shayden was set upon by a giant much like the one he saw the princess defeat only seconds ago. He choked up on the reigns forcing his horse to rear and kick the monster in the chest. He hadn't seen giants in Riverstone in, well anything but story books. They'd all died out centuries ago. Where had these come from?

The beast was knocked backwards but not too damaged. Shayden tried to remember what their weaknesses were, but somehow failed to recall anything too important other than they should be avoided or killed quickly if encountered... Lovely and useless advice. Charging at him, he landed a blade in the giant's right eye, blinding him and forcing it to stumble. Turning his horse around, while the giant stood on one knee, cradling its face, he swung his blade down hard. Cutting most of the way through the neck, and vile smelling blood issued forth from the three-quarter's severed neck...

Not pausing to admire his sickening handy work he plowed on through, cutting down another two ruffians and a man that he thought wore male beneath his tatters... Professionals? How peculiar.

Marius's jaw dropped in outrage. "The fuck, woman?" he grunted as he angrily thrust his sword through one man's eye, ripped it out, and slashed another man's neck all in one fluid motion. Another came at the princess from the side and Marius quickly ended him, too. "One," he yelled. "You never said trap. You said let us gallop away," he mocked in a breathy falsetto. "I feel this is more than it seems." Dodge. "And Two--" Parry. Thrust. "--I--Ngh." He grunted again. "--did listen." Slash. Another dead. He certainly wasn't a trained mercenary. "I was getting us out of there." There were few enemies left. Some had run off. Most were dead or dying, soaking in pools of blood (their own and others'). Marius looked around. "I wasn't just going to leave a helpless woman and her child to be--" The woman lie dead, her throat slit and a hand missing, but the boy was nowhere to be found. "--preyed upon by thieves," he trailed off.

Dimitar had lost three of his fingers on his right hand and three of his men were dead, including Tiago, who'd taken several arrows to the chest. One of his men suffered a deep wound to his gut. There was no hope that he'd make it. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he cursed, turning away from her. He pulled his knife from his boot and knelt next to the dying man. He lifted the man's head gently and looked into his eyes, questioning. The man nodded and went into a coughing fit, blood splattering Marius's black tunic. "Quick and clean," the man rasped before going into another coughing fit. Marius nodded resolutely and drew his knife across the man's throat. It was over in an instant.

The other knights had varying degrees of wounds, but none life-threatening. Marius stood to face the strangers that had helped them. They may have been enemies of the thieves, but that didn't make them any friends to Marius. Their war cry was for Fontain. There was something strange and familiar about that name. In the middle of battle, Marius hadn't had time to think about it, but now, it clicked. Fontain. The name of a duke of Dragonhalle, known to be exceedingly rich. Rich, and missing. The younger generation was fond of telling stories where the Duke Fontain was living out his days in some hidden cave in the mountains of Dragonhalle, but those who were old enough to know him claimed him to be dead.

Now why would they be shouting for Fontain?

Trulin wanted to hit him over the head. "Yes, well you are the one who insists on formality in all matters." she spat out, "I was being polite and subtle. Next time, I will paint you a sign in big red letters how about that?" she was furious, she wanted to turn her blade on him and see how well he fared at the business end of her steel!

She cut down another man before the road, now stained with blood fell nearly silent. She could only hear the raging beat of her heart, a steady drumbeat that compelled her to.... What? she couldn't tell... not now at least while bodies lay around her bloody and dismembered. Some of it her own handy work, most of it belonging to others. She fell quiet as Marius walked, no... Marched away from her in a pissy little attitude that made her sick with anger. Until she saw him kneel and end the life of his own guard.... She didn't flinch or look away, she'd been forced to the same end in her time... Still, she knew how hard it was...

Walking forward, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She wasn't really good at this, but... Under the circumstances... "I'm.... Sorry..." that was harder than anything she might have ever done. She withdrew her hand and walked away, before he could say anything in response. She knew it would be biting and angry and she didn't want to hear it, but she did owe him that much.

Shayden strode forward, his steps long and confident. Definitely the walk of a noblemen. He would have smiled under other circumstances, but the prince was stained with blood and his own men lay around him dying, his plan was hardly satisfactory.

He inclined his head, and bowed from the waist only ever so slightly. "I wish we met under better circumstances... You're Majesty?" Shayden looked around, two of his six men were dead another one injured but the rest looked to be alright, perhaps some cuts and bruises but they'd live. Not waiting for an answer Shayden continued. "I am Victor Fontain, son of Duke Elger Fontain of Dragonhalle." Looking from the prince to his lady, he raised one eyebrow. "And if this is the Lady from across the sea, then you are certainly the Crown Prince Marius Tiamat." A sense of wonder past before shayden's eyes and he fell to one knee. "I would pledge my services to you, your highness. If you would have me." He knew the prince would ask questions, he had an entire story to spin for him actually, but he provided no more than was necessary. The name of Duke Elger Fontain should be sufficient to pique his curiosity at the richest Duke of Dragonhalle, rumored to be a hermit or dead. Fontain was also one of the oldest and purest houses in Dragonhalle, before Elger the last of the line (presumably) disappeared within his fortress walls.

From where he knelt, head bowed and his must and unruly hair escaped the tie at his neck, he dared a sideways flick of his gaze to the princess. She seemed to be measuring him up like a fine horse. As a prince, let alone a prince of one of the most prosperous countries, he was unaccustomed to such open weighing.

The princess's touch barely registered with him. The knight had a life, a family. Definitely a mother that would grieve for her son. A father. Possibly a wife, children. Tiago, too. And the other men that died. Even the thieves. Killing was never easy, especially a mercy killing. When someone is bent on seeing you dead, the need for self-preservation takes priority. Her words didn't matter to him. They were both bound by duty. Her words, however sincere, would not bring his men back. Whether she was truly sorry or not was of no concern to him.

His concern lied with this Victor Fontain. Marius pursed his lips and flared his nostrils. "I'm sorry," he said coldly with furrowed brow. "I wasn't aware that Elger Fontain had a son." Elger Fontain hadn't been seen in many years, and there had never been anything said about a son. And what was Victor and his men doing out here, anyway?

All that time. Certainly Fontain could have sired a son. Doubts plagued Marius's mind. Doubts of Victor's story as well as doubts in his own judgement. It would not be safe to have such doubts follow him home. Marius shrugged, dismissing his earlier statement. "I thank you for your service, Fontain, but I have no further need of it. I can give you but a little gold as a reward, but nothing more."

Shayden didn't for a second let doubt enter his mind. "Sire," he stood, disliking the position of kneeling before a man he didn't really feel any allegiance to. "I am flattered, but no. I have no need of your gold, in fact, I would offer up my father's entire treasury to be at your disposal." he said, and from the tone of his voice it was something to be taken quite seriously. "I know it may seem strange, but I think that my being here was no accident, but the fates showing me to whom I must turn to." He might have thought it over the top if not for the princess's expression. She seemed to be taking him quite seriously for some reason.

Trulin listened to the man, knowing there was definitely more to him than he wanted to show and it intrigued her. "Grant him his request." Trulin said firmly to Marius. "We have lost some of your best men, and this man has proven himself and the skills of those who follow him. We could use the extra blades, especially now knowing how hostile this journey could be." She said, though she thought the explanation should have been unnecessary. "And he saved your life, the least you can do for him is this."

The last words to cross her lips were probably unnecessary but the drove home the point she wanted to make and as a man who considered himself to be honorable, he'd have to accept him into his service if he owed him his life.

Shayden kept quiet as he saw the sparks begin to fly. Already he could tell these two were as likely to kill each other as they were to wed. He wondered why if they hated each other so much they would allow this union to take place.... Not that it mattered.

Marius looked over his shoulder at the princess. She was right. The could certainly use the men. And this Victor was deadly with a throwing knife. He could be useful. His father would want the princess protected at all times. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Oh, what he'd give to see his father's face when he saw how the princess could fight. She didn't need the extra protection.

But his father wouldn't pass up the fact that Marius hadn't listened to his betrothed. Power. It's all about power. Marius took a deep breath and let his head fall to his shoulder as a sign of submission. It was an awkward position, that would have been less awkward had he actually been turned to face her. He looked up at the princess through his dark curls. "Of course, princess." He looked back to Victor with fire in his eyes.

"I would be much grateful for your service, Fontain. But make no mistake in thinking you saved my life."

Trulin felt some surprise at the fact that he actually listened to her without arguing. Perhaps he had some sense after all... That was a relief.

Stepping forward, she slipped her hand around Marius's uninjured bicep. Giving the image they were united and also, in a subtle way thanking him for listening to her. "Thank you... Fontain, was it?" she didn't wait for an answer. "Now, let us quickly tend the wounded and get underway. It does not bode well to remain at the scene of a battle, looters will be drawn here by the stench of blood and goods to be had." she said, before releasing her hold on Marius she looked at him, waiting til their gazes met.

We don't have to be enemies, Tiamat... We don't have to like eachother, but we need to find some middle ground... She wished he could hear her thoughts, she wished she could express how much she didn't want to be married to someone she would constantly be at war with. This was not the time or the place for that discussion, so she settle for the best olive branch she could manage. "I have some herbs and salves that may help your men and you... They can seal the wounds like an iron without all the pain... I'll see that they are passed around..." she said softly, and handed him a small pouch from her belt. "Rub this into your cuts, it'll keep them clean and they'll heal faster." she said plopping it in his hand. Then she turned away to go find where Nolita and Esric were, and her damn horse.

Nolita had not participated in the fight at all, as she was under orders to hide her abilities unless strictly required. The princess was more than capable and in the midst of fine enough warriors she knew her life was not in any danger. Instead she had managed to catch not only Trulin's horse who'd fled the battle, but three of the horses that belonged to those that had attacked them to replace those hurt by the rams or gutted in the heat of battle. She lead the horses back to her mistress and smiled, Trulin demanded to know where she'd been. "I'm a poor maid, shant know what to do twere I to pick up a blade." she said meekly.

"Men died today, don't play games with me. Pass out the medicines and tend the injured." She ordered harshly. Nolita didn't answer, she knew that the High Cassara was often angry after a battle, especially one where people died. Though High Cassara could take lives without hesitation, she knew the weight of death and murder was a heavy one to bear... So the maid did as she was bid and put medicine on wounds that made them numb and kept them clean. She offered water from a canteen that smelled foul but would dull worse injuries that salves could not.

Esric had been slashed across the back while protecting a man nearly crushed under his horse. He also sported an assortment of bruises and nicks and scraps. But other than a broken nose, and the deep wound on his back he was relatively unharmed. He also tried to assist Nolita.

Shayden smiled. "Of course, you highness." he said and turned away calling for Airon.

Airon came rushing up to him, his brown wavy hair a tumble around his face making him look young and boyish despite his being several years Shayden's elder. "Yes m'lord?"

"We will accompany their majesties to Dragonhalle," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "And see to it that we discover what got this so out of hand... And since when have giants come back?" He demanded.

Airon looked at him puzzled. "I'd heard rumors about men coming down from the mountains that were nearly as large as the old creatures.... I think this must have been a sort of cousin." Shayden nodded. Rumors of the dragons, now this... It was as though the creatures of old were coming back from the grave... But that was his fanciful mind getting the better of him.

Dimitar's hand needed bandaging before he bled out. Luckily, he was young. He had time to learn to wield a sword with his left hand. If not, he could learn dagger and knife throwing. Marius dabbed a bit of the salve onto Dimitar's hand before wrapping it, pulling tightly.

With his men attended to, Marius saw to his own wounds. The salve stung as he massaged it into his arm. Dried blood caked his forearm, and the salve only served to smear it. He kept his eye on the young Fontain, still wary of him. Him and his man seemed to be looking over the landscape, looking for. . . Gods knew what. Mumbling something about giants.

He would have liked to bury his men. They deserved that honor. But the princess. She seemed tense, and not without reason. They'd just been attacked. Of course she'd be tense. And she wanted to leave as soon as possible. The princess was right. Looters would be there in no time. They always combed the forest for just such instances.

Nonetheless, Marius had to make the request. The princess would understand. And he would not be henpecked. With a firm decision in mind, he walked up to the princess. "Princess, I can appreciate our need for haste," he started, trying to appeal to her reasoning. He stopped. He could ask her for the time to bury the men. It was just too much time. They would lose nearly an entire day just digging the graves. "I--These men. They deserve the honor of burial. Perhaps, we could send their bodies down the river, as is custom in Riverstone." His father would not be pleased with this decision. The king would rather have his body devoured by scavenger birds. But to Marius, any honor, even that of an enemy kingdom was better than no honor.

His father be damned. Nothing Marius ever did pleased the king.

Trulin looked up, her eyes crystal blue with thought. His words only registered after a few seconds, she set the medical supplies she was organizing down into a chest and sighed heavily. Not with annoyance or frustration but thought. As a woman well familiar with the affects of water on human remains the image was far less than pleasing. First the bodies would sloshed down river, bobbing and sinking here and there, then eventually they'd sink only to have their own natural decomposition force their bloated bodies back to the surface as a rotten nasty carcass. She attempted to keep the sour expression off her face as she recalled the moments she had been made acquainted with this knowledge.

"If you wish.... However, I would suggest something else... If I may," she folded her arms, knowing she was going to make either a huge diplomatic success of a huge insult. "Water is very... unkind to the dead..." she began. "And I heard a legend once, as a young girl while first trained with Flekona or fire swords... It was one of Dragonhalle, and how a warrior was killed in battle defending a nest... The mother dragon paid him the honor of breathing fire upon his remains as a tribute to his sacrifice, because it was believed a dragon's breath when giving out of such honor, released his soul and sent him to become as a star in heaven..." she shifted uncomfortably. "I was told the long ago, it was customary that only the greatest warriors were then burned after death, releasing their souls to become stars to remind us of the great deeds for generations...." She met his gaze, as she had not done since she began speaking. "You're men fought bravely today, I believe they deserve the honor of a funeral pyre... And it would not take long to assemble, less than digging graves and its kinder than a river burial..." She waited for his reply, hoping it would be favorable. She needed to get him to at least respect her if they were really going to wed, that or she'd be forced to slit his throat and commit her people to war with his... Which was always an option.

Shayden continued to speak with his men, attending to wounds and picking through some of the robber's clothing and effects attempting to detect any link between them and the so called giants. He only occasionally cast a glance towards Marius and the Princess, not wanting to appear to interested.

The funeral pyre. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that in the first place? It must be true, what they say. The obvious answer is always overlooked.

Marius couldn't let the princess know that he'd completely forgotten the honor bestowed upon his grandfather, his father before him, and every king Dragonhalle had seen since the time of the dragons. His father would receive the funeral pyre when he died, and Marius also. Marius's heir and all the heirs to the Dragonhalle throne to follow will be burned in the pyre. If the princess knew he'd forgotten, she would see him as harebrained.

He nodded curtly. "Very well. We shall burn the bodies. But let us build the pyre quickly and depart as soon as it is lit. I'm afraid the fire will draw the looters even faster than letting them discover it on their own." Thank her. Marius looked at her blankly for a brief moment, his face dead-pan. No one could tell that he was silently at war with himself. He felt he should thank her for. . . suggesting a better solution. . . allowing him to honor his men. . . something. But, the words were strange on his tongue.

The moment for gratitude passed. Without another word, Marius walked away, suddenly intent on finding proper kindling.

Trulin felt the silence stretch out for just a few seconds longer than it needed to, as though perhaps one of them should say something more but neither one knew what that was supposed to be.

Then without any parting words, he left her. Accepting her suggestion was at least something, it was a compromise and step toward the right path. For now, that was enough.

Nolita came up behind her, resting a hand on the younger and slightly taller woman's shoulder. "It is only when you look back on the path you have traveled that you see the sign posts to where you were going." she said. Trulin turned a sour expression on Nolita, to which Nolita merely smiled warmly. "I would explain but you'd strike me, and well, I'd hate to embarrass you when you seem to finally be making friends."

Trulin didn't understand how the hell the woman could smile amongst the stench of death and blood. It was part of their lives, but it was nothing you sullied by being happy about or happy in. "You are a foolish old woman." She said bitterly. "Where is my horse?" Nolita pointed towards the group of horses all tied up, while they snorted and flicked their tails anxiously.

Trulin began to storm off, almost angrily before she took a deep breath and calmed herself. Nolita didn't intend to be irritating it was just ... a part of her nature. By the time she was half way to her horse her strides were long and fluid, not at all maidenly, but it was a confident stride. It drew attention to her long legs and well toned body, and if one looked for any length of time they could definitely see the marks of femininity she tried to erase without success. Meeting the mare that was her current steed, (she intended to find a fine charger when she made it to Dragonhalle.) she reached out a steady hand and stroked her mane. "I know you can smell the death here... we will leave soon, I promise." She said softly in Ailsan. She heard a noise from her saddle bag, and she quirked an eyebrow, opening it she saw Lir.

He was curled in the tiniest ball she'd ever seen him manage, even when he was a younger pup. His eyes were wide and he shook all over, all the while whimpering. She reached for him and he backed away from her hands, so she crooned to him softly coaxing him until he left her lift him up and out of the bag. The distinct scent of urine caught her nose and she frowned. She couldn't blame him, but still... And all over her extra dried rations, and her good daggers.... "At least you didn't let your dung go..." she said, just as a brown dribble started down her her shirt. . . .

Shayden saw the princess curse loudly from among the horses and then take a small furry animal down to the river. He almost wished he knew what had brought that on, but he dared not follow her. Until he saw her, without a care for common decency begin to remove her vest and then her shirt. He couldn't help staring after her, he noted that she wore some kind of binding around her breasts, but she disappeared out of his line of sight before he caught much more of it. Marius is a lucky man... He thought with a due amount of envy, that long copper body... Lean back, narrow waist that she disguised with a baggier shirt... What vixen Marius had captured.

Shutting his eyes and then mentally shacking himself he firmly ordered those thoughts away. This was business not pleasure. Instead he found the tall Barbarian man, "Hello, um, how do you do?" he said a little too formally to the nearly seven foot tall brick wall of muscle. It occurred to him that he might not know Common, but Esric spoke with a somewhat thick accent. "You came at a good time, Marius was wise to accept your service." He said as he picked up a body of one of Marius's men, carried it several yards and very kindly, lined it up with the other two. He even went so far as to clasp the dead man's hands together over the hilt of his sword on his chest.

Shayden wondered what might make this rough looking man so gentle with men he didn't know more than a day or two. "Yes, well, I think its equally beneficial." he said, still distracted. Esric looked at him as though he were waiting for something more. "I'm Victor Fon-"

"Fontain, of some noble house in a land I only go to because of the High Cassara."

"Pardon? The High Cassara? You mean the Queen of Ailsa?" Esric looked annoyed.

"No. Queen Olencia is not High Cassara. Trulin of High Cliff, Daughter of the Queen and High Cassara over all warriors I follow, and no other. You do not understand, nor do I expect a pale face to." he said and turned away, leaving Shayden alone with three dead men staring blankly up at him.

"You are a strange people...." he thought, but a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he felt a spark of interest yet unrivaled. This would be the most intriguing thing he'd ever done.

"Fontain!" Marius called. The pyre was complete and they were getting ready to mount up. Marius held the lit torch in his hand, ready to light the pyre, and looked up to find Fontain let his eyes wander lustily over the princess's body. A spark of jealousy and rage ignited. He felt it consume him, as the torch he dropped consumed the pyre. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with the ever present smell of blood and excrement, reminding them of the need for haste. The thieves and vagabonds would swarm before the smoke had time to reach the sky. It was like they were drawn to heat. Or maybe they had the same keen smell as the animals they mimicked.

The danger did nothing to dissuade Marius. He would fight a million bandits if need be. But there was no way, no way, he would stand there and let another man look at his bride that way. Fontain had been periodically gazing at her that way all afternoon, and Marius could hold his tongue no longer.

Marius closed the space between them and in an instant, they were nose to nose. His lip curled up in an foul grimace. His hands were clenched. This fight would be much more satisfying fought with fists rather than swords.

"You'd better watch yourself, Fontain," he said, barely above a whisper, his voice low and guttural. "I mean it. Keep your eyes to yourself." Marius itched to knock Fontain on his ass, but behind him a horse nickered, distracting him. He glanced back and caught the princess's eye. Pointing an accusing finger, Marius took a step back. "You. You. . . " He shook his head, unable to finish the threat.

Suddenly Marius felt the heat of everyone's eyes on his back. With the pride of the draco sei, he turned on his heel and strode back to Dancer, with his head held high.