October 26th, 513 CE

“I’m not going anywhere with anyone until someone explains what's going on,” Osa yelled, planting her hands firmly on her hips.

The captain blinked at the wise woman, his sword loosening in his grip, brows furrowing, jaw slackening slightly. In that instant of bewildered confusion, Lleu blurred forward, his own blade drawn and rammed through the other man’s chest before I could do so much as blink.

The captain began to fall as Lleu drew back his blade again and lept aside, Long streaks of rose gold hair flowed through the air as he moved, blade raking across the throat of a second man, then plunging into the gut of a third, taking down the two other sailor’s before anyone could move.

“Run!” He shouted, voice tense as a harp string as he drew his sword across the third man’s neck with one fluid motion. It seemed to me as if the man were simply lost in a dance, his blade happening to slaughter with a feather-like grace.

His voice hit my ears and I didn’t think, I just took Osa’s hand in mine and ran, ignoring her startled yelp and plowing into the brush, glancing back to make sure Gwyn was following.

He wasn’t, of course.

The boy had his belt knife in hand and was charging the five remaining men, a battlecry worthy of the heroes of poetic legend bursting from his mouth as he rushed towards his death.

“Stop!” I cried, then groaned in frustration, all too aware of how futile my efforts were. I dropped Osa’s hand and turned back towards the fight, but a light hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Don’t,” she said in her stern, ‘listen to me or you’ll regret it,’ voice. “You’re not a fighter.”

She didn’t have to say anymore. I scowled and shrugged her grip away, shoving my harp into her arms. “Like it matters now,” I said, and, before I could second guess myself, threw myself into the fray.

Lleu was fending off attacks from three of the men with broad sweeps of his sword, moving with the grace of a housecat as I neared. The other two men were moving to face Gwyn and his fool’s charge. I snatched up the captain’s sword where it lay just outside the fighting and, already lost to the fear and frenzy of the melee, swung it awkwardly at the back of one of the three fighting Lleu.

All I managed to do was partially part the thick padded shirt he wore and give him a slight fright. His head jerking around to stare at me was enough for Lleu to take advantage and land a clean slice at the man’s inner thigh.

He howled in pain and fell to one knee, helpless before me, but after that half second glimpse of rage I could already feel my grip on the sword loosening from the sweet drenching my hands. I swung again, aiming for the man’s shoulder, and smacked him in the temple with the flat of the blade. The man collapsed into a heap on the ground at my feet, blood pouring from the clean slice in his leg.

I didn’t have time to be frustrated or scared, so I just shook my head and moved on. I decided Lleu was a match for the other two and looked around to find my brother. He stood only a few feet away, dodging wide arcs of steel as his two opponents swung wildly at him. My heart raced as I saw several shallow slices across Gwyn’s face and forearms.

I ran forward, turning my back to Lleu’s fight and aiming to run one of Gwyn’s foes through. The sword slid through the man’s upper back with a wet ripping noise, cracking when it met the back of his ribs. The sudden jolt almost made me sleep away, but I gritted my teeth and held true.

The sailor’s eyes went wide, his mouth working like a fish out of water as blood spilled out between his lips, then he collapsed, wrenching the sword from my grip and sending me stumbling. I tripped over his legs and landed in a heap between Gwyn and the other sailor, forcing them apart.

The man looked from me to his dead companion in apparent bewilderment before Gwyn leapt over me, aiming to run his knife through the sailor’s gut. His body obscured what was happening, but a clink of metal on metal sounded before a solid, bone-cracking thud, and my brother was falling back, knife falling to the ground, his now empty hands covering his nose as blood poured between his fingers. He cried out in pain, hitting the ground hard, the air audibly rushing from his lungs, silencing his groaning.

He gasped for air, choking on his own blood, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as the sailor loomed over us, a sneer on his face and his sword held ready to thrust down. There was a sudden streak of silver steel in the air, trailed by an arc of dark red. The sailor fell in a cloud of dust, his head rolling away, blood spurting from the exposed flesh of his bisected neck

Lleu stood behind him, panting hard, both he and his sword drenched in a curtain of blood. He dropped the blade and collapsed to his knees dragging in deep heavy breaths as Gwyn groaned and rose to a sitting posture. My brother glared at me from behind his hands.

“I didn’t need your help,” he said sharply, or at least with an attempt at sharpness. His voice was coming out more nasally thanks to the broken nose. “I was handling them just fine before you bumbled in and messed me up!”

“Fools!” Lleu and Osa said in sync before I could snap back. I hadn’t even realized the woman had approached until she was looming over us, an air of wrath and fear in her stiff posture. Gwyn and I both glanced from the wise woman to the imposingly bloodsoaked Lleu uncertain of what to say.

“You,” Lleu said, glaring at me. “You should have kept running.”

Gwyn shot me a smirk at that, but then Lleu shifted the glare to him and my brother shrank back, the smirk vanishing from his lips. “And you should have listened to me in the first place. I told you to run,” Lleu said through gritted teeth, wiping the blood from his face with a clean square of the dead man’s tunic. “The gods might have spared you from death this once, but I cannot promise you they will do the same for you again.”

Osa nodded firmly at the man’s words, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and giving us both a fierce glare.

“Sorry,” I said quietly, pushing myself up to kneel on the ground across from Lleu, the still bleeding, twitching corpse laying on the ground between us. “I just couldn’t leave my brother behind.”

“And I couldn’t leave you behind!” Gwyn said, gesturing towards Lleu from my side. “There was no way you’d be able to take on five men on your own like that!”

Lleu gave a heavy sigh. “If I’d have died my men would have seen to getting you home, Caerwyn. My life is my own to give, and I will give it gladly to protect my king. You, on the other hand, cannot afford such luxury.”

Gwyn hung his head, looking half as if Osa had just been chastising him about leaving the gate open overnight. I frowned, wondering if he’d really grasped the seriousness of the situation. As I had little ground to stand on in that situation I simply bit my tongue.

Lleu sighed, wiping his sword clean before resheathing it and looking back up and locking eyes with the downcast Gwyn beside me. “Seems your skills with the sword have waned these last eight years. I will have to correct this failing before we reach Caer LlysBran.” His gaze traveled to mine and he said, “You, my boy, should just keep to your harp.”

The words stung, but I had to admit he had a point.

“Come,” Lleu continued getting to his feet. “No doubt there are others searching the town for us. We should leave before they have the chance to find us again.”

“I’m not going,” I said, standing as well. “This is where I belong.”

Lleu frowned, and Osa looked away from me at the proclamation. “Boy,” He began but was cut off as Gwyn gasped at my side.

I glanced towards the boy, then followed his gaze to the city. A thick pillar of black smoke rose from the outskirts of the town, followed soon after by another on the opposite side, then another and another until a thick wall of gray began to consume the small buildings and houses.

“They’re trying to burn you out,” Lleu said, his voice hard as iron. “If they can’t capture you then they’ll settle for letting you die.” He was silent for a moment. “Come,”

“We have to stop them,” I said as he began striding away, Gwyn rising to follow after him. “We can’t just let them burn the town! This is our home!”

“What would you have me do?” Lleu said, still walking away, forcing me to chase after him, Osa’s footsteps trailing not far behind me. “Slaughter what is likely to be a hundred armed men trained in war from youth? Even if I could kill them all, how do you propose we stop this blaze?”

I frowned at him. “I don’t know, but let's at least try to figure this out!”

He shook his head, but I was surprised when it wasn’t he, but Osa who spoke, her hand gripping my wrist. “Bast,” she said, choking on my name, her voice soft with the weight of her sudden grief, my harp still clutched in her hands. The tears sprouting in her eyes made my heart ache, and in that moment I realized just how little the seven years of difference in our ages meant.

“Bast,” She tried again. “This place is gone. There’s nothing we can do.”

I don’t know how she kept from letting her tears fall, but I wept. I couldn’t help it. Suddenly, more so than before, I really felt the weight of loss. Somewhere in my heart I’d held out hope that Osa would take me back someday, that she’d let me back into her home to play my harp and sing my poems, but now…

Now, those hopes were little more than ash, and I didn’t know what to do.

Lleu led us through the streets, passing burning houses, screaming livestock, and wailing people. Groups of men and women rushed about the tiny town with buckets of water, their futile efforts to stem the tide of flame only managing to hold the fire back for a few seconds at a time. Children screamed, sheep bleated, and I just wished Lleu would walk a bit faster.

The port was embroiled in chaos when we reached it, Lleu guiding us behind a home, curtains billowing out an open window on the wall beside him as the wind picked up around us.. A group of sailors, roughly twenty strong, barred access to the ships as some people filled their buckets and others lept into the sea in an attempt to flee.

“Those aren’t my people,” Lleu said in a voice barely audible amongst the rumbling chaos all around us.

“What do we do?” Gwyn asked, sounding excited. I smacked the back of his head before I really understood what I was doing.

“Gwyn,” I snapped. “People are dying. Our home is burning. At least try to sound like you care.”

His face flushed. “I do care,” he snapped back. “What the hell makes you think I don't?”

Osa cuffed both of us before I could retort. “Knock it off. Master Lleu, what should we do?”

The tall man raised a hand to stroke his chin. “If we could signal my ship my people would be able to make a path for us I'm certain.”

“And what would you have us do?” I asked, a slight venom to my tone as I threw his words back at him. He didn’t so much as flinch.

Instead, he simply stroked his chin and stared at the three of us thoughtfully. “What?” I asked, beginning to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“What if,” he began slowly, as if uncertain of the words himself. “What if we gave them what they wanted?”

“But they want Gwyn, and if they’ve been asking around, then at least half the town will be looking for him too,” I said, my frown deepening as I crossed my arms. “I’m not sure I like where you’re going with this.”

“Neither am I,” Osa said, her hands on her hips once more.

Gwyn, for his part, didn’t look much thrilled either. Lleu continued to scrutinize us, then snatched the scrap of dirt-stained curtain from the open window beside him.

“Trust me,” He said, and I can honestly say I’ve never trusted anyone less.