"Why?" Tears streamed down Ceres' cheeks. "What reason this, Waithe?"

He rolled over one of the bodies scattered about on the ground. The recent rain spread the spilled blood across the muddy ground but was not enough to wash away. A sharp blade drawn across the throat killed this man, one of those that before held them prisoner. The body still had some warmth to it, this happened only hours before. "There be no rational purpose to this evil, only by the Darkness was this."

Sobs nearly stole her words. "I... I caused this... They sought me..."

Waithe put his hands on her shoulders. "Nay, my dear Ceres, you did not. The fault lies solely with the men who drew their blades, men with the darkest of hearts." He turned in a circle, taking in the carnage. "Let us see if some may have survived."

His anger grew as they searched within the houses. He held his rage within, hands drawn into tight fists the only outward sign. Murderers! Cowards! Even the women and children were slain, most in the corner of one house where the attackers likely gathered them. Sobs racked Ceres again as she collapsed to her knees.

Waithe surmised that the attackers took bloody retribution against this small village when they failed to deliver Ceres to them. He decided not to voice this to her. It would only add to her grief.

Ceres' wet eyes opened wide. "Waithe, Eira is not among the dead!" She ran out of the house and spun around, yelling. "Eira! Are you here!" Her voice faltered. "Please, Eira..."

Phy appeared before her, bobbing up and down. Ceres whispered to the green light, "Show me where."

Phy led Ceres and Waithe to a well on the outskirts of the village. The dark-haired woman who earlier tried to defend Ceres from the mob laid face down before it, a knife in her hand. She fought them! Ceres rolled her over, mumbling words of a prayer that ultimately went unanswered. Her tears dripped down onto the lifeless face of the woman.

Phy circled the well and ducked down into it, passing through the weathered wooden cover that laid across a circular pile of stones. Waithe threw back the cover, and with Ceres, peered down. There illuminated by Phy's green light, sitting half-submerged in the water, a little girl shivered, her knees drawn into her chest.

Ceres called to her. "Eira, they are gone. You are safe now."

Waithe tossed his sword and scabbard aside and lowered himself down into a depth almost twice his height. His legs spread outward against the width of the well as he stepped down on the uneven rocks. Eira wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

He whispered to her, "I have you, little one."

He climbed back up as she clung to him, handing her to Ceres at the top.

Ceres dropped to her knees and pulled the shivering girl into an embrace, stroking her wet dark hair. "I'm so sorry, Eira. I'm so sorry." 

As Waithe emerged, a motion near the cluster of houses caught his eye. A warrior's quickening took hold as he observed two armed black-clothed men approaching the horses he and Ceres left near the village center. These two must have circled back hoping to pick up their trail. He grabbed his sword and motioned to Ceres, putting a finger to his lips to tell her to remain quiet and then waved his hand, palm down, imploring her to stay hidden. She nodded as her eyes widened.

Waithe ran along behind the houses, out of sight of the dark men. Crouching down, he peered around the corner of a house. The men had their back to him as they went through the saddle bags on the horses. Soon, he realized, they would know that their quarry was near. Now was the time to attack. Baring his teeth, he allowed the rage within him to pour out.

He drew his short knife from his boot, and with his sword in the other, jumped up and sprinted toward the men. As one of the men turned to meet the challenge, Waithe threw his knife. The knife found its mark and embedded itself in the second man's back, who yelped and fell to the ground.

Both men wore hoods and a wide strip of black cloth across their lower face, just like those who tried to abduct Ceres in Delta. Waithe shifted his sword to his dominant hand and launched himself at the first man. The attack came too quickly for the man to fully unsheathe his sword and Waithe's long blade ran him through.

Waithe yanked out his bloodied sword and the first man crumbled to the ground, his eyes vacant. He turned toward the second man who had dragged himself a short distance across the muddy ground. In a rage, Waithe kicked the man over on to his back, causing him to scream out in pain as the knife in his back dug deeper. The sword tip caught the edge of the man's cloth mask and ripped it away. Blotchy indigo stains surrounded the man's mouth, which Waithe recognized as a highly addictive stimulant sometimes given to soldiers to make them fight harder and keep them loyal. But it had potentially dangerous side-effects, including psychosis and murderous rampages.

Waithe put his sword tip against the man's throat. "Who sent you?"

The man gritted dark teeth and spat his words. "You cannot prevail against the Darkness. Soon it will rise..."

Waithe grunted as he pushed against his sword, slicing through the man's throat. After a bloody gurgle, the man's head fell to the side. Waithe retrieved his short knife and wiped the blood from it and his sword on the man's shirt. He stood for a moment, taking deep breaths to still his emotions.

Ceres jumped as Waithe came around the well, Eira still wrapped in her arms. He helped them up. In as calm a voice as he could muster, he said, "We have to go before more of these men show up." 

They rode away, Eira with Ceres on her horse. Waithe turned his head back one last time to the small village, feeling a pang of grief for it. A realization came to him. The dark men who sought Ceres were extremists, and he knew they would not stop but by death. Whoever sent them had a very dark fate in mind for Ceres. There were much bigger things at stake than just the Taint she wished to end.