Penitent-Chapter 238 Book 4 Ch 19: Worn

Michael heard a gunshot and immediately reinforced the barriers he kept around himself, forcing his already frozen magicka channels to move again. He saw fighting up ahead and ushered his horse forward as he drew his sword and unbuckled his shield. He was sluggish, enough that the other knights around him fell in line almost three seconds after he started to move.

He reached what looked to be a battle mixed with a retreat filled with groups of knights, soldiers, and a motley mix of others. He saw a man in full Stent armor weaving and dodging between a dozen other knights. They would slash and hit nothing but air as his own sword danced toward their throats, slicing through their gorgets and sending out a mix of sparks and blood as each blow landed. For one brief moment he seemed to be overwhelmed, then he sent out a cone of flame from his hand, melting three of them down.

One of the soldiers turned around to face Michael's charge and raised a spear, but dropped suddenly as a bullet flew through the back of his head and sent him stumbling forward to be trampled by Michael's horse. He looked at where the shot had come from and saw Marcus bat a man's sword to the side casually with a gauntleted hand before sinking his bayonet into his chest, easily stabbing through the man's thick armor.

Michael marked him and Pyotr quickly in a way that would be visible to the rest of his party.

"The two I've marked are with us! Take down the rest!"

"For the gods!" cried one of the knights next to Michael, urging his steed forward to trample a man with a pitchfork while he ran through another with his sword.

Michael urged his own horse forward, aiming at the knights attacking Pyotr. He didn't need Michael's help. In fact, if Michael had just left them alone he was certain that Marcus and Pyotr could've easily dispatched the forty or so men that hadn't cut and run.

He leapt from his horse, slamming his new shield downward onto the nearest of the knights, crushing his spine as he landed. He switched Rend to Ruin to better crush the enemies armor and waded into them.

Several turned their attention from Pyotr to Michael just as his mace began to glow with golden flames. A few broke and ran, but two decided to charge him. It was a meaningless effort. Even as tired as he was, he blocked both of their strikes with an almost lazy raising of his shield and then with two swift blows of his own he'd caved in both of their helmets. They dropped to the ground lifelessly as he continued on to the next one.

After only a few moments, what remained of the ambushers cut and ran. A few of Michael's escorts started to pursue them, but he raised his hand up.

"Don't chase them. It'll be better for them to tell everyone how poorly this went anyway."

There were a few salutes in acknowledgement, but then another gunshot rang out, dropping one of the knights that was trailing the other ambushers.

Michael turned tiredly to Marcus who dramatically blew the smoke from the barrel of his rifle and smiled at him.

"I didn't chase them. Did I?'

Michael was too tired to argue, and also happy to see him, so he simply wrapped him in a bear hug until his armor creaked then let him go.

"It's good to see you, you bastard."

"Good to see you too," replied Marcus.

"Welcome back, brother," chimed in Pyotr as he wiped his blade clean with a piece of cloak he must've torn from one of the corpses.

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Michael took just a moment to heal all of his allies, feeling mostly minor wounds, but having to grit his teeth a bit anyway as close to exhaustion as he was.

"Thanks." He gestured to the dead all around them. "What was all this?"

"Just a small group that didn't like the idea of takers going free or of someone killing their king. We were pretending to get along with them for a while. Wasn't too hard to ingratiate ourselves. They didn't think to find a diviner to confirm that none of their number were takers themselves."

"The insults you spewed were also very useful in convincing them," said Pyotr.

"Insults?" asked Michael.

Marcus held up a hand and started counting down. "Those self-righteous usurpers from Hume probably fuck their own mothers when their sheep get too tired. The real reason they call them takers is because they take it-"

Michael held up a hand. "I think I get the picture."

"You sure, brother? He's got a few dozen more."

"I'll just save them to tell Ollie about later. I'm sure he'll appreciate them."

"Ollie's not back yet?"

Pyotr shook his head. "No. Last message on the paired journal was that he was headed back now and walking the last stretch so that he could make sure the brands didn't activate and that he'd be there if they needed to deal with an ambush like this one."

"Any idea when he'll arrive?"

"Probaby two days, maybe three."

"And you managed to get all the takers along the coast?"

"We did," replied Marcus nodding. "Didn't even have to run the whole time. Just took horses and wagons. It was very relaxing."

Michael gave him a glare. "How wonderful for you." He looked around until he found his horse, which was nibbling on some grass just a few yards from the battle. He walked over to it, but stopped before he could remount it and sighed.

"Everyone, let's drag these bodies to the side of the road. We need them out of the way of the wagons and I want the locals to have the opportunity to collect and bury their dead."

There was some grumbling, and Marcus outright refused, but between Michael, Pyotr and the rest of them they were able to drag the bodies into a mostly orderly line on the side of the road.

Once they were out of the way Michael took a moment to bow his head and pray.

Seras, guard their souls

Nykas, help their loved ones find joy again

Bruntus, may their good efforts be continued and their bad ones ignored

Veras, may those that loved them carry them forward

Durand, honor their strength in fighting a superior foe

Estaid, judge them as wholes, not as a single foolish action

When he was done he opened his eyes and held up a hand. The corpses were mended until the faces were all distinguishable again. He wanted to make sure that their families and friends could find them. When he was done he let out a long breath and felt a hand on his shoulder.

Pyotr patted his pauldron twice. "A good example, brother. As always."

"Thanks, Pyotr."

"I am proud of you. I think it is thanks to you that I am a better man in this world than I was in the old one."

"From what you've told me you weren't a bad guy back on Earth. A bit… lecherous maybe."

"I was not a bad man, but I was not a good one either. Here, I can be a good man… though I may still be a lech on occasion."

Michael laughed. "Well, nobody's perfect."

With that done he found his horse again, and remounted it. Then rejoined the caravan. They rode for just a couple more hours before Stent's capital came into view again. The pure white domes reflected the light so harshly that it hurt his eyes. They were waved through the gate, and Michael escorted his group to the large, heavily fortified, building in which the other takers had been holed up until he could arrive.

Once there, he hopped off his horse and started to walk inside. This time it was Marcus that put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're too tired. Go back to the diplomat's quarters for a bit. Sleep for a few hours at least. You look like shit."

Michael shook his head, his helmet clanking as he did so. "I don't want to leave them branded any longer than they need to be. Especially now that I know there's at least one group that wants them dead before they can even leave."

"Pyotr and I can watch over them. We've got control brands. We can make sure that they're okay."

"Marcus is right. Take a rest. At least a few hours. We will stay here and keep watch."

Michael frowned. He must look far worse for wear than he realized if they were trying to make him rest. They'd seen him push himself until he passed out dozens of times at this point. This was different though. These men and women weren't in mortal danger right this moment. Nor were they in extreme pain.

"I'll rest first," he said, nodding. "But I'll do so in a room in that building. Just in case."

Marcus nodded.

"Fair enough."