The huntsman sighs. "Fine. There's three. Or at least, there was last night. Some of 'em might've joined the prince's group."
You gesture to the tent. "Enough talk. Let's get it done."
He readies his bow and humorlessly smirks. "Understood, Marshal."
Next
------
Elya watches as the old warrior next to her hangs his head and stares at the ground. Blood drips from his lips and nose.
She feels terrified. The brutality of the guards toward a defenseless old man makes her feel sick to her stomach. Beyond the terror and emotional distress, Elya is unharmed, much to her own surprise. She's not even been put in bonds.
Vedran said that if anyone laid a hand on her, they'd be drawn and quartered.
Darin, however, has had no such luck. He has been beaten, bound, and left without water or food. But still, he had resisted his captors at every opportunity. But now, his wounds and exhaustion have begun to catch up with him.
Elya feels white-hot rage building up inside of her, battling with the fear. She cannot believe that her own brother would betray her. She cannot believe that he would so callously hand her over to Rade.
She wants to kill Rade. She wants to see the fear and pain in his eyes as he dies. This rage has only built and built the more violence she witnesses. The more death she watches, the more she wishes for Rade to die.
He made this war. He killed my father. He has caused so much death… so much suffering.
But Vedran? Vedran is Elya's brother. She's still in disbelief. How could someone she loves do such a thing? How could he so quickly forget the death of his father and join his murderer?
She still needs time to process.
The two guards in the tent with her laugh at some unheard joke between themselves. They've long since let their guard down.
Suddenly, a large, bearded man walks through the entrance, longbow in hand. "Good evening, gentlemen," he says to the guards.
And then he looses an arrow into the first soldier.
The man collapses, dead before he hits the ground. The second reaches for his mace, but the Marshal steps through the entrance and cuts across his neck.
The guard falls back, clutching his wound with dying hands.
Next
You stand there in the entrance of the tent for a few seconds, panting. Your sudden rapid attack had taken more effort and energy than you thought it would. Exhaustion weighs heavy upon your limbs.
Elya sits back, eyes wide with shock that turns to relief. There's a light splatter of blood across her face, most likely from the dead guards, but she looks otherwise untouched. She says, almost as if in disbelief, "Arthur Hornraven…"
"Elya, you okay?" you ask, lowering your bloody sword.
"Don't worry about me!" She gestures to Darin. The old warrior looks horrible. Your stomach lurches at the sight. You haven't seen him this injured since The War.
You and Velinor rush forward to his side. Elya stands up and watches as you and Velinor work to cut his bonds. He raises his head to look at the two of you. "Good to see ya, lads."