25 Days of Writing – Day 21

Day 21: FREE DAY! Write any scene you want!

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The clashing of swords had stopped. Trey looked around and saw Orrin standing unsteadily, with blood soaking the front of his tabard. The wound to Orrin’s neck was deep, and bled freely, but was not fatal. Trey moved to Orrin quickly, to catch the man before he collapsed. Donnal moved with Trey and they both caught Orrin as he dropped to his knees.

“Orrin,” said Trey and the bleeding man leaned onto him.

“My Lord,” murmured Orrin, his eyes closed with exhaustion.

“Lie you down, Orrin,” instructed Donnal. “I shall attend to this,” Donnal said to Trey.

“Hanna—,” started Orrin.

“Aye, Hanna,” agreed Donnal. He looked at Trey. “How fared she?”

Trey’s face paled and he began to look around. “I know not,” he said absently. His eyes fell upon Balayn and Dean, who were bent over looking at someone. Dean was blocking Trey’s line of sight. When Dean stood abruptly, Trey suddenly recognized the dress of the person who lay there.

“Dear God,” Trey whispered as he rose. “Hanna?” He strode toward the group. Balayn looked up.

“My Lord,” spoke Dean. Trey ignored him. He saw that Hanna was not moving. Balayn was stroking her bloodied face.

“Hanna?” Trey said louder. Suddenly he was running. “Hanna!” he screeched. He raced to her side, falling to his knees beside her.

“Hanna?” Trey’s voice shook as he stroked her face. “Darling?”

Balayn studied Trey’s face. He watched tears form in Trey’s eyes and run down his cheeks and drip from his nose. Tears rose in his own eyes. Balayn knew that Hanna lay there now because she took her attention from her own attackers to fell a man who would have killed him. That moment of inattention was an opportunity capitalized upon by one attacker who smashed her face with the pommel of his sword.

Another tear dripped from Trey’s nose, splatting on Hanna’s cheek. She flinched slightly and her lips moved. “Hanna?” said Trey. “Please, wake.”

Balayn turned his attention back to Hanna. He saw her moving slightly. “Hanna,” he said. “Wake, wake.”

Dean leaned in to observe. The three men crowded over her, speaking encouragingly. Her eyes moved and flashed open for a moment. She seemed to try to speak, her lips moving but no sound came out. She opened her eyes again for a moment, her gaze pausing for a moment on Trey before she closed her eyes again. Her mouth stretched into a grimace and she cried softly.

Trey bend in, stroking her cheek. “It’s all right. It’s all right,” he murmured.

“Hurts,” Hanna hissed back between subdued sobs.

“I know. I know,” spoke Trey.

Donnal leaned in, putting a hand on Trey’s shoulder. “We’ll put her in my wagon. She can rest there, aye.”

Trey looked up, startled. He hadn’t heard Donnal approach. “Wagon?”

“Balayn. Dean. We’ll make a litter for her, aye?” ordered Donnal. Balayn and Dean moved off quickly to their work.

Trey continued to stroke Hanna’s cheek, once again oblivious to Donnal’s continued presence. Trey whispered to her and she responded with little nods and noises. Donnal wasn’t sure what was being said, but he knew love when he saw it. Donnal smiled. Trey had suffered long enough.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Trey,” Donnal spoke into Trey’s ear. Trey looked at him, again startled. Donnal was smiling. Donnal looked at Hanna and stroked her cheek with his own hand. “Aye, Hanna. You’ll be fine.”

Donnal returned his attention to Trey. “We’ll get her comfortable in my wagon and we’ll depart this place. Tis best we move on, aye?”

Trey looked at Donnal for a moment, then looked around, remembering the situation. “Aye, Donnal. We would not wish to spend much more time here.”

“I’ll watch over her myself, Trey. You have other responsibilities.”

“I wish not to impose thus on you, my Lord,” said Trey. He looked back to Hanna sadly. Her eyes were shut again, but her face wore a weak smile. “Though there is no other I would trust her to more.”

Donnal leaned close to Trey, speaking in a low voice. “I know you love her.”

Trey felt embarrassed. He felt his face burning. “Not a day goes by that I do not think of Rose.”

Donnal smiled. “And Rose loved you. And I loved you both.” Trey looked at Donnal sadly. “We must all move on, aye?” Donnal paused. “So long as you live, my Rose lives on. That you might love another is not offense to me or to her.”

Donnal gripped Trey by the shoulders, commanding his attention. “Cherish her, aye? Love her. You deserve such happiness.” He looked at Hanna, who was watching him wearily. “And I shall love her, too.”