Dillan had spent the long days and nights of their journey listening to Lithia tell her stories and when she would let him, he'd attend to her. For the young man, his travels had been boring and lifeless. His entire existence stank of uselessness and unfulfilled desire when she wasn't around. Of course, that was his perspective. Between Burgundia and Albion, Dillan helped a good deal of people with random tasks; sometimes violence was necessary and sometimes he would hold up a cart so someone else could change a broken wheel.
Now that the party had reached its destination, the myriad of problems that could happen began to unfold. Of course, there were bandits here, why else would someone hire a group of armed persons to retrieve the items left behind? Dillan stretched and look around making note of some useful looking soldiers and others who didn't seem to fit the part. His eyes then fell upon Lithia who was moving towards their guide. He scurried up behind her without making a sound and came to rest on his hips facing her. His hands took her wounded one in his grasp and using delicate and deliberate motions, he put pressure on the bandage outlining her wound.
"You should've let me carry you." The words escaped as a very soft whisper but held some of the baritone from his low register.
Dillan released her hand and peered out over the scene the women were assessing. He rolled up from his hip and took a few steps back down the bank. Turning and offering his hand, he was waiting to escort Lithia down. His ears heard the rousing speech of their knight and scout [also one of the few people with a horse]. Dillan also heard other people chime in with their two bits and decided to weigh in on the topic.
"I agree with the knight. Though, I do ask that you give me some time to maneuver since the field before us is rather large. Once I'm in position, I'll give a cat whistle." He turned his eyes to Pyrelithia with a thoughtful and weighted gaze.
"Lady Veronica will be able to identify it for you."
Dillan returned his gaze to the knight and then turned to head for his position. He paused and turned back to Lithia. What do you say? How do you express something that goes against what you have been taught? Betrays the ones who raised you? Dillan's helpless thinking must surely be reflected in his stare. His primary concern is that Lithia remains unharmed and the plan that had been hashed out was the best way to achieve that result. She had never fought by his side. Her parents forbid their daughter from engaging in the exercises that the young folks of the region used to defend their lands.
Dillan knew he should say something and finally the words came to him. He reached out and took on of her arrows and held it in both hands between them. He stared down at it occasionally looking up to see her face.
"This is an instrument of death. In practice, we let loose these tools without regard. When we hunt, it serves our purpose to end the life of one of God's creatures." He paused here and handed it back to her, his eyes falling into a stare with her icy blue orbs. Dillan continued his soft speech with his breathy tone.
"In battle, we use it to determine who lives and dies." When she took the arrow back he would catch her hands between his big paws.
"Battle is fast. Use your breathing to slow things down. I'll be counting on you." He dipped his face and kissed the top of her hand then left.
Dillan stalked quickly away from the group putting the image of Lithia's beautiful face from his mind. He began to recite verses from The Bible as he made the trek to where he needed to be.
"Do not suppose that I can come to bring peace. I did not come to bring peace but a sword. Matthew ten, thirty-four. Well, my Lord Jesus, I have an axe and I hope that you send your Holy Spirit to guide my hands so that I may triumph over my enemies. Like David's Mighty Men, use me as a beacon of hope to this desolate world. I will fall hundreds with you in my heart if that is what pleases you. I would give my life in service to you. All I ask is that you protect Lithia, Lord. Surround her with your full armor so that no flaming arrows or vile swords may harm her."
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Dillan continued to talk to himself until he could hear the bandit's voices much more clearly. He was about ten yards to their south and on the opposite side as the rest of his group. Andrew had indeed committed a decent plan. Once the main party charged down with arrows at their backs, he could come out and cut them down like tall weeds. Dillan let out a very unique whistle that carried above the trees. It was similar to a bird that flew off Burgundia's coast and Lord Veronica used it to communicate with his hunting dogs.
"The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear?" His voice was nothing more than a soft breeze.
"The Lord is the stronghold of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?" Dillan repeated this verse to himself waiting for the signal to strike. It was Psalm 27:1 and had been his favorite verse since he was a child.
