When I was a child and we went on vacations into the wilderness, I always contemplated running away, not because my parents mistreated me in any way, but because I really wanted to know if I could survive out there.
The Bard
The threat of the lone archer was something Bennett did not need adding to all his other worries for the uncertain future. The episode was not helping the morale within his small camp. Even though he had banished Aran to certain death, he found new reason to curse the man every day for bringing this trouble to their door.
In all the years they had inhabited this place they had never had anyone locate them and target them in this fashion. Now everyone had been forced to maintain a diligent watch, and with so few men left even Bennett felt he must do so, setting the perks of his leadership aside.
The nights were especially bitter, and if the wind came up, even more unbearable. The watches had been broken into periods of two hours. It was all he and his men could stand. They could not allow the woman with her deadly arrows to breach their defenses again, soon she must falter and someone would get her, then they could go back to more relaxed ways.
Bennett had other ulterior motives for taking his turn at the watch. Even though he led here without question he was still squeamish about his sexual orientation, and did not flaunt it in front of his men. All knew of his predilections for men and young boys, but it was never spoken of. In a way his differences made him more fearsome to the men he led, yet created barriers as well.
All his life he had been told his desires were wrong, though powerful and feared, the stigma of what he was had stayed with him. The words of his homophobic father and the beatings he had taken as a teenager still vivid in his memory. His hard father from who he had learned his trade in fear, every bit as tough and callous as he was, had left an indelible mark on him, and probably the only man he had ever truly feared.
With the cold and the lack of privacy his hut used to offer in warmer days Wesley Bennett had to resort to sating his desires swiftly and out of view of the others. This was no easy task. Hence this evening he had taken Nathan with him on his two hour vigil, he had wanted to bring Carlos but his prize slave was still fighting the remnants of a chest infection. It would have been foolhardy to bring him out here in this cold, and there remained some pleasures Carlos would not readily satisfy.
Nathan had revelled in the attention Carlos' illness had afforded him, at last he was being noticed again and he meant to fully capitalize on his rival's misfortune. He would not be relegated to obscurity again, and the endless, mindless, hours spent on a length of chain, cold and unwanted.
Bennett sat scanning the far horizon, eyes observing no movement in the inky black. His hand resting ready on the cold, comforting, steel of the Sig.45 in its holster. The night was thankfully still and he could detect no other presence but his and Nathan's. He should be undisturbed here, and could enjoy his slave's young body in any way he desired.
He knew the woman if she appeared expected someone to be on duty here. Hence he did not have the luxury of a fire, the less illumination the better. It was imperative that Bennett saw her first, it was as simple as that, get the first shot on her and remove the constant, dogged threat, once and for all.
He beckoned Nathan to him, body already tense and aching for the long awaited release. The slight youth did his bidding swiftly and eagerly, without question as he always had. Bennett shrouding the two of them in the large grey blanket he had brought for just such purpose. Nathan's eager mouth felt delicious on his hardness, though Bennett found himself wishing at that moment he had spared the boy his tongue. Still after many days of nothing and watching his men fornicate at will before him in the great cave, this was sweet release.
The immense battle scarred leader leant back against the tall standing stone. He was in such a blissful place even the cold ceased to nag at him. The slight boy warm between his thighs performing this forbidden act, Bennett lost in the moment. His eyes were closed, fast nearing the precipice of his release; Nathan seemed to pause and abruptly pull away. This was most uncharacteristic of him.
The big man's ice blue eyes opened, and he raised his large hand to strike the boy for his misbehavior. Instead of cringing from the intended blow, Nathan sunk backwards to the cold sand ever so slowly, his body spasming, green eyes locked onto his master in sightless pain. It was then Bennett felt the warm, slick, blood, it was not his own, but that of his slave boy. Even in the bad light he could make out the shaft of the arrow protruding from Nathan's back, fletched in the characteristic black raven's feathers.
Aurianne had not intended to hit the innocent boy, she had no idea he was even there in the murky dark beneath the blanket. The fact she had shot an innocent completely unnerved her, and she hesitated way too long before nocking her second arrow.
Her original mark was already on his feet and drawing his weapon. In an act of desperate vengeance, and being none to careful with her aim she let the shaft fly, it missed Bennett by inches and fell impotently to the sand. Shaken she turned to flee, the only option she now had. Fearing a repeat of the last failed attempt she had left Isabou much further away than she had on previous occasions, and to reach her trusty mare she ran like never before.
Bennett always the warrior, wasted little sympathy on his slave, as he leapt over the fallen boy drawing his weapon. He saw the arrow poorly aimed pass him by, the archer's face frozen in a pale mask of fear, her beauty framed in her wild red hair had no effect on him as it did on most men. She was a threat to be exterminated, nothing more.
The woman was fleet footed and darted behind the standing ironstone monoliths that littered the landscape to avoid being targeted. Bennett pursued his wily quarry with everything he had. This time he was determined she would not escape.
However Aurianne was much faster than he, powerful Bennett was but he could not close the gap between them. He saw her reach the waiting horse and vault effortlessly into the saddle, making a split second decision he would have to fire or risk losing her completely.
The pistol discharged shattering the silence of the oppressive night, seeming to reverberate off the heavy cloud cover that had become a constant. Bennett did not spare his precious ammunition, he emptied the full clip after her departing form in the vague hope just one bullet would find its mark. However he was not sure if he had been successful or not, again the elusive archer galloped away into the murky dark.
Pursuit was futile, there were no horses here up to the task. Bennett was most angry with himself for letting passion get in the way of his mission. He made his way back to the watch post uttering a string of profanities under his breath.
Nathan lay still and cold on the hard earth, unresponsive, ghostly pale. Bennett bent over the boy, he could feel a faint pulse and detect the shallowest of breathing. He knew the others would have heard the shots and they would come running shortly.
There was nothing more to do than get Nathan to the warmth of the fireside, and Raissa's restorative skills. He picked up the frail eighteen year old boy easily cradling him in the blanket and began the descent to his valley.
All the occupants of the valley except Gareth who had resumed the watch, crowded about in a tight knot faces solemn, further demoralized to see yet another of their number fall victim to the vengeful archer, even if he was only a slave.
Nathan lay unmoving like a broken doll, his already pale skin even whiter than it usually appeared. Bennett standing above him strong arms crossed, expression impassive as Raissa and Will expertly removed the arrow under his watchful gaze. The nervous slave girl assuring her taciturn leader in quiet words that no vital organs appeared to be damaged. Bennett hoped with warmth, rest, and quiet his slave would recover, but Raissa's hesitancy, and Will's prudent silence betrayed Nathan's slim chances to all.
