27. Heresy #2
Still, the man was in too much of a hurry to even think straight, let alone remember his training. Cypress parried again, then kicked some of the loose dirt on the ground into his face.
The man reeled back, arm hooked over his nose and eyes.
With a regretful sigh, Cypress stabbed the man straight through his chest. She heard and felt the bone and sinew pop around her blade as it ripped through him.
The guard was dead before he hit the ground.
Cypress pulled her sword free with her boot placed on the man’s chest while Torren finished with his opponent. His arm was hooked under the man’s chin, and then Cypress heard a sickening crunch.
Torren dropped the man face-first into the dirt.
And then, the sound of the forest returned. It was a haunting melody of birdsong and other creatures lurking in the shadows of the Wylds that somehow made Cypress feel right at home.
And perhaps, she was.
While Cypress cleaned her sword on the edge of one of the Crown Raider’s cloaks, she cut a look at Torren.
“Is this what you meant by Crown Raiders?” she asked and motioned toward the pelts and wings across the backs of the now riderless horses.
“It is,” Torren said while he unwound a length of rope.
Cypress nodded. There was this… rage burning in her gut now. So much.
At Caelith for the betrayal, at Cade for keeping her in the dark about Torren through all these years. More than anything, though, Cypress was angry with herself. All of this had been going on long before she ever set foot within the bounds of the Wylds, and she’d been completely blind to it all.
At least Cypress knew where to put all this rage. With her spine held straight, Cypress stalked back over to where Lieutenant Oswald lay unconscious.
He had been Cypress’s second in command. She had been Captain of the Prince Guard for nearly six summers, and Oswald had been her second for five of them.
If Oswald, her second, had been willing to believe the lies Caelith put forth, had been willing to cut her down, then there was no telling what the rest of the kingdom would think.
Where was the loyalty?
Cypress bent and placed her fingers against Oswald’s throat, feeling for a pulse.
Fortunately, or maybe it was unfortunately, Cypress found one. She stepped away once more and began to pace in a circle around the lieutenant.
Cypress had only a few choices before her.
She could kill Oswald where he lay.
She could leave him to the forest and beasts.
Cypress could wake Oswald up and then kill him. Or, wake Oswald up, make sure he knew she has taken mercy on him, and leave him where he lies.
Cyprus sighed and crossed her arms.
“What are you doing, Lass?” Torren asked. A line of horses now trailed him with their reins tied to the length of rope.
Cypress snorted. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Torren cracked a wry grin in her direction. “They’re good horses. I’m not going to leave these pampered things to the Wylds. I’m not cruel.”
Cypress raised her palms in supplication.
“I’m just debating what to do with him,” she said and nudged the still unconscious Oswald with the toe of her boot.
“Well, that depends on what type of message you want to send,” Torren said while he sheathed his sword in the scabbard on his mount’s saddle. Then he tied the length of rope connected to all the new horses off on the pommel.
“And what are my options for messages?” Cypress asked.
It took a moment for Torren to respond while he wandered through the battle scene. He bent to collect his bow and any arrows that were still intact before he answered.
“Well. Killing everyone could be perceived as a fluke. Maybe they were killed by something in the Wylds, you never know,” Torren said, his voice a mockery of the inflection of the snobbish noble families.
Cypress huffed a laugh, but agreed. “Okay, so what type of message says ‘don’t come after me or the Wylds?’”
Torren stopped in his tracks and stared directly into Cypress’s eyes. “Is that the message you want to send?”
“Say it was. What would you do?”
“Leave him alive. The forest will do the rest,” Torren said, his mouth curved into a wicked grin.
Cypress licked her lips and asked, “Really?”
Torren nodded.
Cypress spun on her heel and resumed her pacing for a moment while she considered her options.
It took only a moment for her decision to be made. But first, she had to make sure the message was clear, that no one could interpret the meaning in any other way.
Cypress drew her dagger and stalked back toward Oswald. Once there, she bent and carved a few words into the chest plate of his armor.
She needed one more thing, though. “What was my mother’s name?”
“Aithlin Ilirona.”
Cypress smiled as she signed the scrawled message using the tip of her dagger.
Stay out of the Wylds
-Captain Cypress Ilirona
Cypress wanted no part in the kingdom, a world where people were hunted just for being different. She had been blind for too long.
If the Fair Folk thought she belonged here in the Wylds, then she’d make it her home, inheritance or no. These people deserved better than being hunted for sport.
Cypress would make sure the Wylds were safe… well, as safe as an ever-shifting, ever-changing place full of wild magic and even wilder creatures could be.
She would help Torren get the Scepter, but it would be much harder now that she no longer had the influence as Captain Cy.