Chapter 60

Breen let Marcie go when her sobs subsided to nothing.

Her eyes were dry but wide and staring.

He glanced over to where Ketsa stood shivering in terror.

Revulsion filled him when he looked at his one time lover cradling his broken fingers, fingers broken by the very woman he conspired to violate.

Only fear had driven him to seek help, for his companions, not the not so helpless woman they had assaulted.

Breen had taken Far sighted Damnion's watch, as the man was resting and so, luckily, had been the only one awake when Ketsa crashed into the camp. He had not said a word, until Breen threatened him casually with his knife, at which point he spilled the plan he, Freddie and Noal had concocted, the scheme falling like foul slugs from his mouth, peppered with fear and cowardice.

Even he could not have predicted what they would find.

He passed Marcie his waterskin, she took it in trembling hands and gulped down the cool liquid quickly.

She moved away from him and put her arms around her knees, taking deep breaths. She made no move to continue her assault on Six Fingered Freddie. But she needn't have.

Six Fingered Freddie's unseeing eyes stared straight up, a glassy hue obscuring their depths. He was undoubtedly dead.

Noal was whimpering softly, curled upon himself he clutched his face as blood poured steadily through his fingers.

Breen approached him.

"Noal" he said, soflty, "Noal, look at me"

The huge man, curled up tighter with a pathetic moan.

"Noal" Breen said, even softer, "It is me, Breen, look at me"

Eventually Noal turned his head towards the voice he recognised and slowly moved his hand away from his face with a sob.

Breen recoiled.

Marcie had taken Noal's eye. An arrow head stuck out of the soft fleshy ball, while his soft cheek had been ripped apart, skin and muscle hung in clumps and one of his nostrils had been severed.

"Whad she do ta me?" Noal moaned, his voice was high pitched, it sounded like a childs. He rocked himself, cupping his ruined cheek in one large meaty hand, the other scrambled on the mossy rock.

Breen did not answer.

He looked back at Marcie's huddled form, then back to the huge man who had tried and failed to dominate her, reduced to a snivelling, simpering wreck of a man.

He slowly reached down and lifted a large fist sized rock from the ground, it was roughly rounded on one side and jagged on the other. He held it on the rounded side so the jagged edge faced outward.

Then he looked at Marcie, lying helpless on the ground. Her long thick hair had come loose from its plait and covered her face.

He lifted the rock.

And brought it down hard on Noal's exposed temple.

The first blow, caused Noal to shudder, his limbs went loose, his remaining eye suddenly drooped and he made a gurgling gasping sound. The second blow caused his eye to close and the bone where the rock hit cave in. The third and fourth blow did nothing more than allow Breen to exercise his rage. And the rest merely to ensure the job was done.

When Breen eventually looked up from the bloody mess of broken bone that had been Noal's skull he saw Ketsa vomiting into a bush and Marcie watching him was wide, far seeing eyes.

He dropped the bloody rock and walked towards her. He held out her boots, that he had collected, she took them wordlessly and pulled them back on slowly, her hands fumbled at the simple task. Then he held out his hand, she regarded it for a moment then allowed him to pull her to her feet. As he did, pain shot through her face and she bent at the waist, putting a hand to her ribs.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, then realised how foolish he sounded,

She did not reply, merely regarded him with those fathomless eyes and made a few tottering steps in the direction of the trees, Breen stayed near, in case she might fall.

They passed Ketsa, leaning against a tree and panting, he backed away as she approached but she paid him no mind, Breen however, fixed him with a look, then turned and pointed back to where the two bodies lay,

"Build a pyre to burn the bodies, do it by daybreak" he instructed shortly,

Ketsa blanched, his face pale, sweat standing out on his forehead,

"Breen-" he stared to say, to plead,

But Breen cut him off with a blow to the face that sent him sprawling, he instinctively put his damaged hand out to stop his fall and cried out afresh when his weight fell on it and it crumpled beneath him.

"Now filth, before the wolves catch the scent"

He marched off, leaving Ketsa on the ground to consider his options. Which were few.

Breen followed Marcie to her small camp, he gathered up her belongings while she watched then led her back to the main camp, where the men were all lying asleep around the smouldering coals that was all that remained of their fire.

She halted when she saw the men, but Breen walked among their sleeping forms and placed her pack and bed roll next to his own vacated one, set away from the others. Then he waited.

After a long moment she stepped between the men carefully and sat as faraway from them as she possible could.

He wanted her to talk to him. Even for her to ask him why he took her back to the men that were suspicious of her after three tried to hurt her, and in some ways, succeeded.

But she just sat, staring into the coals and clutching her side.

After a while, he went and tended the fire, darkness had fallen properly and the shadows pushed at the barriers of the light it created. He added more wood and built it up. He wanted Marcie to feel safe, although, she had always been more comfortable in the forest than In the village, unseen shadows amongst the trees held little terror for her. It was those in the light she was more afraid of.

He found some left over meat and handed it to her, she took it from him without looking and nibbled at it, still staring into the flames.

Breen settled himself on his bed roll, he did not expect to get much sleep tonight and, looking at Marcie, he did not think she would either.

After their meagre meal he sat in front of her, putting a finger under her chin he turned her head to face him,

"Marcie" he said sadly, "Talk to me darlin. I want to help"

Her eyes met his, her mouth managed a small twitch, and he let out a breath he had been unconsciously holding in. She would be alright. Eventually.

He smiled back,

"You will be alright" he declared, "Everything will get better"

"I hope so" she said softly, so softly, he had trouble hearing her, but just that she had spoken was enough.

She looked around the camp as it seeing it for the first time,

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, "They hate me"

Breen looked at his men,

"They do not hate you" he said confidently, "They fear you, there is a difference"

Marcie shook her head, " No, people hate the things they fear, now they fear me, but when the find out that I killed two of their companions? What then? I tell you, they will hate me"

"Freddie was a freak and slive, nobody liked him, some even wished  him dead! And Noal-" Breen remembered the crunch of bone under rock, he lowered his voice, "-Noal has been warned for leering after many a mans wife in the past, no one would question their actions, they were vile men and had...reputations"

"They were still men, and I am..." She trailed off, put a hand to her head and sighed in frustration,

Breen sat down next to her, and put his hand on her shoulder,

"Do not think about that now" he said soothingly, "We hunters are simple folk, I mean to show them two hideous men who let their fear get the better of them and attacked a woman and died for it. With all hope they will not see you, Marcie, the half breed outsider surrounded by fearful whispers, all they will see is a victim"

Marcie opened her mouth, a little of the old Marcie rage in her eyes, but Breen raised a hand to placate her, "They just need to think it Marcie dear, men understand the need to protect helpless victims, it is in their nature"

The rage simmered then died, replaced with tiredness, "What if they think that because I was a victim once I could be again?" she asked quietly,

Breen bristled, "Then I will be here to dissuade them of that notion"he said fiercely.

The men began to rise with the sun.

The full day and nights rest had done wonders. They felt strangely cheerful.

However their good cheer lessened when they caught sight of Marcie in their midst.

She had nursed her wounds and sat, hunched over her broken rib, her throat and wrists sporting ugly red splotches and one whole side of her face bruised blue and purple.

Not one of the hunters talked to her or about her, they shot her curious and suspicious glances but held their silence as they made water and ate a small meal to start them off.

Breen waited until all the men were awake before he cleared his throat and looked over them all. All eyes turned to him, minus the three who were not present, two who never would be again.

He met every eye, saw the respect they held for him, mired by the disgust they held for his less than secret desires. None of that mattered now, all that mattered was that they listen to him now.

"You will no doubt notice" he started saying into the silence broken only by the popping of the fresh branches on the fire, "That there are three missing from our party"

The hunters began muttering quietly, they had noticed, now they waited to hear why they were not here,

"Two are dead" Breen stated, the muttering grew louder, one man, willis, stood up and opened his mouth in question, but Breen cut him off, "I killed them"

Shocked silence.

"I killed them after they tried to rape this woman" he pointed at Marcie, and every eye fixed upon her. Breen saw her shrink under the weight of their gaze. But he also saw what they saw. A slight young woman, curled up, clearly in pain, and covered in wounds. With her usual height and strength of personality hidden, she appeared smaller and more childlike than usual. She could not have looked more the victim if she tried. She could not have looked more helpless if she tried.

Breen paced in front of the men, as they absorbed this information,

"As you no doubt know, Marcie's father is my mothers brother. She is my blood and I reserve the right to defend her honour. I came upon the two would-be rapers and I killed them. I delivered the justice reserved for murderers, thieves of the worst kind and rapers by the grace of The Goddess, I delivered it. And if any would stand before her and accuse me of doing the wrong thing, let him speak now or forever hold his peace"

Silence.

Breen watched Marcie, she closed her eyes for a moment and breathed out. He looked at his companions and from every eye he saw not a hint of suspicion. Then he looked at Far sighted Damnion.

The man showed nothing on his face, but his pale blue eyes, so clear for one so old stared at him, and there was...something behind those eyes that he did not like. He waited for the old man to speak out but he did not.

Once he was satisfied, he stood,

"Pack up, before we move on there is something that must be done" he instructed,

Without a word the men packed away their belonging an threw water on the fire.

They shouldered their bows and followed Breen with Marcie at his side through the forest until they reached the clearing where the assault had happened.

Marcie kept close to his side the whole time and when she saw the clearing she drew in a sharp breath.

Ketsa had reviewed his options and done as Breen asked.

In the centre of the clearing, built up around the large rock that stuck out in the centre he had built an enormous pyre.

He was still piling branches and dead wood against it as the hunters arrived and spread out amongst the treeline. He looked up but his eyes did not seem to see them all. He face was haunted by lack of sleep, pain and what he had seen and been apart of.

Breen beckoned him over. He came hunched, and shuffling. At some point he had attempted to see to his broken hand. It was crudely splinted with some twigs and strips of leather from his tunic.

He lifted his head and looked at Marcie, she stared at him, an expression between anger, disgust, and hurt on her face.

"Marcie, please" he said, his voice low and sorrowful, also pitiful, "I am so so-"

Marcie slapped him across the face. A sharp crack that seemed to echo across the clearing.

He went down, managing not to fall on his poor hand this time.

"See here" Breen announced to the watching hunters, "Another would-be raper. This one alive, only because he conspired but then fled rather than take part in the final act"

Ketsa stayed on the ground, his face in the dirt.

Breen reached down and roughly pulled him to his feet, he was weeping silently.

Breen shoved him towards the bodies, with the instruction, "Finish it"

Crying softly, Ketsa manhandled Freddie's prone form and dragged him over to the pyre, and awkwardly heaved him onto the top, having to resort to using his shoulder to heave the mans body onto it. When it came to Noal, after three attempts it became clear that Ketsa, exhausted and injured as he was would never get the giants body onto the pyre by himself, Breen instructed three others to help and he assisted. He dare not look at the ruin that was Noal's skull and so grabbed a leg and together, the four of them managed to lift and throw the man onto the bundles of twigs.

He took his place next to Marcie while Hunter Gerard lit a torch with flint. When it was ablaze he hefted it then handed it to Marcie with a nod. Marcie took it hesitantly, Breen nodded his encouragement and she walked towards the pyre.

She stood for a long time, staring at the two prone forms on the bed of branches. The clearing was the perfect place to have a large fire. It was free of trees so it would not spread and the moss was damp and would not burn.

Marcie finally thrust the torch into the wood, it caught immediately, and the fire began to spread.

She hurried back to Breen's side and clutched his hand. Her face showed nothing of what she was feeling but when she squeezed his hand tightly, he squeezed back.

The flames spread slowly, travelling around the edge and crackling upward before moving towards the the two figures in the centre.

Marcie gasped and suddenly the pyre erupted, exploding flame outwards and upwards, high, high above the trees.

Breen yelled and jumped back, as did all his fellow hunters as the fire raged, roaring towards the sky.

Only Marcie remained where she was. She stared at the colossal flames, arms wrapped around herself as if cold, as if the flames raging heat did not affect her.

Breen squinted through tear filled eyes against the heat and saw Marcie silhouetted against the flames, a black shadow against the light.