She was awoken by a roar that filled the air and made the ground vibrate. She gasped as pain lanced through her arms and shoulders. She struggled to put weight back on her legs, though they had their own share of complaints.

 

The roar sounded again as the first tingling of feeling began to sweep over her limbs, and she twisted her head in every direction she could manage even as the refugees began to drag themselves from their tents. Soon the area was filling with muttering and cries of alarm.

“Is it a sabretooth?” “A bear?” “I heard the dragons are back. Could…could it be…”

 

This last thought was quickly put down with scoffing laughter, but the laughter stopped as a third roar filled the air, loud enough to momentarily deafen the entire group. After only the slightest of pauses, every head in the camp turned and looked at her.

 

No. Not at her. They were looking behind her, in the direction of the lone building in the camp. The one that HE had entered the night before. And now…

 

All the refugees clearly came to the same conclusion she had stepped in at the same time. There was a very sudden bustling as people began stooping and gathering what little they owned with haste but without a word.

 

It was far too late.

 

A slam of wood cracking on stone and another ROAR filled the air and at once HE was upon them. He was naked and unarmed and it did not matter in the least. The refugees ran screaming and he ran right after them. Not one made it further than the road before HIS giant fists caught them, smashing heads and breaking bones and tossing bodies like twigs high into the air. They landed with sickening thuds and lay still.

 

It was over in moments, but a moment too late for a lone woman who happened to crest the rise of the road just as HE broke the last of the refugees over HIS giant knee (is was Slimy, she was secretly pleased to note). She woman froze in place for a moment, then yelled something about Stendar and rushed forward with sword drawn.

 

The woman gave HIM a fight, far more so than any of the soldiers from the day before (and certainly more than the hapless refugees) but she could tell that the warrior recognized the mismatch from the start and seemed almost resigned as HIS fist caught her temple. HE caught the body as it began to list and mumbled to it as HE carried it back to the camp.

 

“I apologize. You did not deserve that. But I could not afford any witnesses.”

 

HE laid the body with careful hands onto the ground near the spent fire, laying the sword on the warrior’s chest and then clasped the warrior’s hands over the hilts. HE rested his hand on the warrior’s for a moment, then stood and turned to her. She watched his eyes resume burning.

 

“They try to tie me up and they treat MY property like this! I wish I had just knocked them out – they did not deserve an honorable death. I should have hung them like the spineless cowards they were.”

 

She merely sagged with relief as HE picked up a dropped dagger and began to saw at her binds. After a moment, HE threw the knife away with a disgusted grunt (“They didn’t even sharpen their knives. They deserved to die.”) and simply ripped the ropes to shreds with quick tugs.

 

The moment she was loose, her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground with a pained grunt. A wave of panic raced through her and she struggled to get back up but a moment later she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

 

“No, do not try to stand. You need to rest.” She looked up with grateful tears in her eyes as HE squeezed HIS hands into fists again. “How dare they? I wish I could kill them all again.”

 

Then, the last thing she expected – HE stopped and picked her up and cradled her in HIS arms as HE marched back toward the building. After a moment of stunned disbelief, she let her head fall onto his chest and couldn’t hold back a sigh.

 

“Now, then. Let’s go visit Soril.”

 

They banged through the door – though she noted that he twisted his body so her head would not hit the doorjamb – and entered a room that looked as though a tornado had passed through. Broken furniture and glass, blood and slumped bodies, it seemed as if not one inch of the house had escaped some form of scathing. He marched through without a care, stomping on whatever flotsam got in his way with his bare feet, until they reached a small room in the back. He shoved his way through the even narrower doorway into a bedroom, except the bed and all the other furniture was likewise strewn everywhere. He grunted and flipped the down mattress with a foot until it lay more or less flat on the ground, then bent and lay her onto it with nearly as much care as he had shown the warrior.

 

“You have a few more moments to rest. Then I expect you to be able to walk.” He turned away without waiting for her nod of understanding, and she allowed herself to sink into the softness as her body slowly started to come back to life.

 

He stepped only a couple of feet away and tossed aside a broken chair to reveal something Aithne had not noticed before – a woman, bound and gagged, stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Presumably this was Soril. He knelt and reached out, ignoring her flinch as he grabbed her hair and yanked her head up. He forcefully turned her head toward Aithne.

 

“Look what your ‘guests,’ as you liked to call them, did to my property. MY. Property. That was at least a thousand septims worth of fucking they stole from me. Not only that, but they left her hanging by her arms for hours while they slept. Hours! Do you have any idea what kind of damage that might have done to her arms and shoulders? If she is crippled, she will be worthless, which means I’ll have lost not just a thousand septims, but many times that. She is MY PROPERTY!” Soril screamed and struggled, but he forced her head back toward him.

 

“Don’t you look away. You keep your eyes right on mine. Now, here is what you are going to do. I know you have money hidden around here somewhere. You are going to show my where your secret stash is. No, don’t try looking sly. I know you didn’t trust them, no matter how much you pretended to care. You hid money somewhere, and if I do not have it in my possession in the next thirty seconds, you will begin to feel the kind of pain that your friends did to my property.” He jabbed a thick finger into the woman’s dress right at her crotch as he finished, eliciting a pained muffled scream. “Now. Point with your head.”

 

Soril did so, jerking her head to the left with desperate staccato movements. He stood, lifting her with ease in one hand and holding her in front of him like some sort of divining rod. She jerked her head toward the door and he stepped out of the room. Aithne watched them go through hooded eyes before exhaustion swept her away.

 

 

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