Chapter 46. The Attack

top fretting, he’ll be fine,” Brigit said.  Teleri smiled faintly for her friend, glad that the warrioress had offered to stay behind that evening and keep her company while she waited up for Morisedd.  They sat in one of the compound’s many drawing rooms, a place with sumptuous couches and pillows and a large grate containing a pleasant fire.  The servants were already abed, although she thought she could detect their stirrings in the corridors beyond.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” she replied, putting her hands back on her lap and ceasing the continual twisting of her golden hair.  Geetha lifted her head and gazed up at Teleri with slitted eyes, stirring inexplicably from a deep sleep.  The lynx then rose, stretching as her tufted ears flicked and listened.  A distant clatter of falling silverware and pans emanated from the kitchen.

“That doesn’t sound good.  Not at this hour,” Brigit growled, rising and grabbing a fireplace poker.

“I’m sure there are guards around to take care of it.  They might get the wrong idea if they see you running about with that.”

Geetha hissed, a low moan of anger curling from her throat.

“That’s it, I’m going.  Follow if you want.”

Teleri stared in horror as Brigit tugged on her gown and sent it flying to the ground, no doubt finding it too restrictive for combat.  Stripped down to a frilly slip, she sped from the chamber, poker in hand and Geetha cautiously trotting after her.

“Oh, alright,” Teleri grumbled, unhooking an ornamental short sword from its place above the mantle and shedding her embroidered robe.  Brigit had a point.

By the time she arrived, the sound of melee shattered the sleeping compound.  She hugged the door jamb before poking her head past it and gazing into the room.  The vast kitchen was dark, illuminated only the fading embers in its enormous hearth.  A dark figure slinked easily over the counters and cutting boards, knives glinting in the darkness as they flew toward Brigit’s graceful form.  As the assassin leaped toward her, daggers poised for a deadly strike, her poker slammed down with a loud ‘whump’ on a bag of flour, causing a huge cloud of dust to rise up and choke her nimble foe.  The figure staggered blindly to the floor as Brigit sprang over a table in pursuit.

Geetha howled with fear and rage, causing the assassin to hesitate and dodge back toward Brigit.  To Teleri’s horror, the lynx laid back its ears and charged the shadowy figure, ferociously latching onto his thigh and tearing open a nasty gash.  She was about to call her beloved friend back to safety when Brigit interrupted her.

“Tend Zhou!” she cried, her poker whooshing over her head as she narrowly missed the nimble assassin, “Stand still, you fiend!”

Teleri saw Zhou’s crumpled form leaning against a wall, the sheen of his blood marking his skidding trail to the ground.  A horrible rattling sound came from his gaping mouth and blood drooled down his chin, pooling on his chest.

“Dojin,” the mesmer rasped upon sighting her, wasting his last staggering breaths for his master, “betrayed.”

Teleri heard the snap of bone and flesh as Brigit caught the assassin across the chest, sending him sprawling and broken to the flagstones.  Geetha pounced ferociously on the man’s head while the warrioress pounded his helpless body until he became limp. 

“Go get Nandao!” Brigit shouted, her eyes glistening with rage in the dimness as she rushed to Zhou’s side.  She thrust her palms over the wound in his chest and uttered a curse for she had not the skills of a healer.  Teleri regained her feet and ran back into the corridor to pound desperately toward the guest quarters.  The racket had already roused other members of the household and she was relieved to find Nandao closer to hand gambling in the parlor with a half dozen members of the guild.

“Hurry,” she cried and the monk pushed away his winnings and rushed to her side without question.  As he ran after her the others followed in their wake.  It was not far, but it felt like she was running through water, every second stealing away Zhou’s life.  At last they entered the great kitchen amid a gathering crowd of servants and newly arrived guild members.  The kitchen was now bright with lantern light.  Nandao swore and rushed to the man’s side.

“Stay with me, Zhou,” Brigit shouted at the mesmer, her hands red with blood as she failed to stanch his wounds.  He was so pale, Teleri observed, and a blue tint had settled around his mouth.  Nandao’s prayers trembled upon the air and the mesmer moaned as the monk’s body convulsed in pain, drawing the wound and venom into himself.  At that moment another monk arrived, her serene visage fierce with anger as she strode toward the fallen body of her guild mate and helped Nandao revive him.

“Lia,” Zhou coughed and the woman nodded, her hand stroking his brow to calm him, “Tried to stop them.  Go to Dojin.  Please.”

Brigit took Lia’s place as she rose, grimly gesturing for her other guild mates to come with her to Dojin’s quarters.   Teleri, Nandao and Brigit were abandoned at Zhou’s side as a lone figure stood in the doorway.

“Not your time, Zhou,” the ritualist said softly, her beads and medallions whispering softly as she stalked toward them.  Although her eyes were concealed behind her elaborate headdress, she stopped at the mesmer’s feet.  Then, with a sad smile she turned her face toward Teleri.

“Follow me, we will bear him to the infirmary.”

Brigit easily lifted Zhou from the floor, cradling his slack form against her shoulder. Teleri marked it strange to see Brigit shift so easily from merciless killer to gentle guardian.  For as long as they had been friends, Teleri was grateful she and Brigit were allies.  The alternative did not bear thinking.

“Is he going to live?” Brigit fretted, alarmed that Zhou had passed out in her arms.

“Yes,” Nandao groaned, visibly shaken, “It wasn’t exactly easy doing that back there.  You might have warned me.”

“Thank you, Nan,” Teleri soothed, squeezing the monk’s hand.  He was trembling.

“Nandao to you,” he grumbled, “I’m not some lump of bread.”

Shikai giggled and, oddly, Teleri felt laughter bubble up inside of her.  The awkwardness of the moment smoothed over and Nandao apologized for his sharpness.

“I don’t like losing people,” he mumbled.

Brigit smirked at him.

 “Look, I think we should cut our losses here.  Morisedd hasn’t come back and now there’s assassins stalking the place,” Nandao said, trying to keep his voice low so that the ritualist could not hear him.

“I’m not leaving my brother,” Teleri snapped, appalled that Nandao would even consider it.

“And I’m not leaving Teleri, so just forget it,” Brigit replied.

Their argument was cut short as they entered a brightly lit chamber with rows of narrow beds draped in linen.  A pair of servants and an elderly monk guided Brigit to a high linen draped table.  She gently helped them lay Zhou’s slack form out upon it, delicately placing his arms at his sides and stretching his head back over a low pillow to ease his breathing.  There was a moment of awkwardness as Brigit lingered there and Teleri and Nandao stood in the doorway waiting.

“Um, I think I want to stay with him,” she murmured, blushing, “Just… you know… until I know he’s alright.”

Teleri snorted in an effort not to laugh as Brigid stood there tenderly holding Zhou’s hand, her face burning with embarassment.  They were an unlikely match, the elegant mesmer in his shimmering finery and Brigid in her bloodstained slip.  Even Nandao hooted with barely contained laughter.

“You’ll give him nightmares when he wakes up,” the monk teased.

“Go away,” Brigit grumbled, gratified when the elderly monk restored order by shooing them out of the room and allowing her to stay.  Teleri smirked at Brigit’s unusual choice of affection.  Perhaps the heat of the moment had gripped her and when the adrenalin wore off she would be back to her old coarse self.  Shikai smiled faintly at Brigit and stood at her side, saying nothing.