Last Meal at Homebound: Part V

The orc aimed quickly and fired. The bolt struck it's intended target in the soft part of her left shoulder, just below it's socket. Magda's momentum, along with the bolt's impact forced her to spin hard into the table-boy, knocking him into the wall behind the bar. His necked whiplashed causing him to crack his head against the wall yet surprisingly he was able to maintain his footing.

Magda felt the searing pain of the bolt in the upper part of her shoulder just as she felt the immediate loss of feeling in her left arm that followed. She hissed as the bolt entered her, maintained her dignity by avoiding a scream though she had to bite her lip hard enough to draw blood in order to achieve this great feat.

Grimacing, she chanced a glance at the table-boy. He hadn't seen the bolt's impact, but could easily tell that Magda had been injured by the look on her face. His flesh had turned a lighter shade of white, something Magda wouldn't have thought possible just a few moments ago. He looked now as a sweat-stricken ghost might, she imagined she probably looked the same to him.

Magda looked back to the bar where her weapons lay less than an arms length away, then looked to the orc who'd just shot her, watched as he attempted to reload. The orc ahead of him, the one she'd gut-shot was still doubled over, one knee and a hand to the ground kept him from crumbling completely. Near the entrance, she saw another falchion-armed orc rise from a kneeling position. From where she stood Magda couldn't see past the toppled tables and chairs in order make out what he had been kneeling near but she assumed it was the first orc, the one with the rust-colored face that she had killed. She assumed the dead one was the pack's leader, this made her smile in spite of her pain.

She reached out with her right arm, (as her left refused to follow any command at all) and scooped a crossbow and the quiver in the crook of it and slung them both in the boy's direction. The crossbow hit the boy in the chest as he did not raise his arms in an attempt to catch it. He let out an "oof!" as the weapon rattled to the floor. The quiver landed nearby, spraying it's contents all over the already cluttered floor behind Magda's beloved bar table. These two events did not play out exactly as Magda had intended.

Magda turned back to the bar as the orc finished loading the crossbow, heard the familiar click as the bolt nocked into place. Magda did not see this as she reached for the iron skillet she'd left upon the bar what seemed like hours ago. She looked up to her one surviving barbarian, he looked good, the blood-rush of battle seemingly blessing him with new life. A gift from Tempest or Kutenai, no doubt. She called to him as the orc lifted his crossbow to send the killing missile in her direction. When the barbarian turned, Magda tossed the short sword in his direction, knowing herself to be virtually useless with it and the boy likely to be even worse. It clanged to the wooden floor a few feet in front of him. The barbarian nodded in reverence to her, not the first time she'd seen such respect in this town, and moved to bend for it.

Magda reached for and lifted the skillet in her right hand. A second later the orc loosed his crossbow, the bolt exploded into a shower of sparks and tiny wooden splinters as it struck the broad bottom of the iron skillet. Magda looked at the humble frying pan in wild bewilderment as she heard the orc, less than 20 feet away, grunt in anger at his misfortune.

"Gods, be praised!" She managed to gasp. At that moment Magda promised in prayer to Solarth to bake him one of her famous mutton-pies to show thanks if ever she were blessed with being granted entrance to his beloved realm upon her death. She'd even go easy on the filler.

Looking toward the orc, Magda saw that he wasn't about to waste time feeling sorry for himself as he began to load another bolt. Deciding she wasn't going to wait to be shot at a third time she spun and slid along her back against the bar, lowering herself to the floor. The bolt still protruding from her shoulder made slight contact with the bar, causing her to wince in agony. Looking at the boy, who had slid down the wall himself to sit, knees upward, amongst the litter behind the bar, she hissed when she'd seen had not otherwise moved.

"Load, boy! Why haven't ye begun to load?" she gestured with her good arm toward the crossbow.

The boy ignored her question. "You've an arrow in your shoulder." He gestured toward her himself. "And... there's blood."

"It's a bolt," Magda said. "and I know. Which is precisely why I need ye to arm the crossbow for me."

"But,"

"Forget about my wound and get to it!" she snapped as the boy scrambled to gather a loose bolt and the crossbow that struck him in the chest only seconds ago. He put the bolt to the drawstring and, pulling it back, snapped it quickly into place in one fluid motion.

Magda forced a smile. "Clearly yer gettin' good at this." she said.

The boy did not return the smile and offered the crossbow to Magda in his outstretched arms without a word. Shaking her head, she looked to her useless left arm. "Can't." she said. "You have to do the lion's share o' the killin' now." He nodded reluctantly. "Time to be a man." she said.

The clang of clashing steel startled both enough to make them jump. The barbarian had engaged his falchion-armed foe. Magda imagined the unhurt orc with the crossbow to be planning his next move, she needed to plan hers as well.

"We don't have much time. I count two healthy orcs left and only one bein' kept busy." She looked to her right to make sure the orc that stuck her wasn't coming around the bar. "But he won't be kept long, our friend doesn't stand a chance. Barring a miracle, 'o course." The boy groaned at the news."Don't lose hope, I'm still here. And with you here we outnumber 'em. 'Least fer now." This didn't seem to make the boy feel better. "Anyhow's, we can't stay here. I reckon we can take the back door way outta here," she motioned down the narrow kitchen corridor. "But I blocked it wit' a feed barrell to keep the bastards from bushwhackin' us."

"You mean yer filler barrell." The boy replied sarcastically, yet through a smile.

"Aye, that be the one." She replied. "We need to move it, it's heavy though and I won't have me strength after bein' shot." Magda could feel the spread of warm blood on her shoulder, felt it's sticky tackiness as it made her shirt and bustier cling to her skin. There were many times, during quieter moments in the triage, that she told the sleeping or unconscious wounded she tended that she would gladly trade places with them if Tempest would only allow it. She felt at the time that she meant it, and hoped that she had the strength to follow through if Tempest, or any God for that matter, offered her the opportunity to do just that. Magda believed in her heart that the time was now approaching.

"You'll have to do the bulk of the movin', I'm afraid." She said to the boy whose sarcastic smile slowly began to fade. "I can't help much with it, but I can protect ye while ye do it yerself." Magda wished to continue but was cut off by the sound of the wounded barbarian's last gasp as he was bested by the stronger, healthier and better equipped orc. The sound of his body thudding upon the cold wood-plank floor followed soon after. The heavy sound of the orc's boots heading for the bar made Magda's hair stand on the back of her neck. The deep, raspy growl of his native tongue, shouting orders toward his crossbow-armed companion made chill-bumps break out across her arms.

There was no more time.

"Magda!" the boy shouted as the falchion-armed orc came into his view, just over the right side of the bar. His hulking, green skinned, hide-clad form towered over him, his eyes fixed solely on the boy as from his current angle he could not yet see Magda. He smiled, baring surprisingly straight, intact teeth. He held his falchion low to one side, his chest heaved as he continued to breathe heavily from the strain of his fight with the last barbarian.

In an instant, all fear washed away from the boy's face. Magda's heart leaped as she knew, a moment before it happened what was to come as the boy raised the crossbow he'd been holding. Surprised, the orc backpedaled as he lifted both arms to shield his face. The boy loosed the bolt striking the orc in the right forearm. His falchion dropped from his hand as it involuntarily contracted. The orc roared angrily as he stared momentarily at the bloody wound, the bolt had punctured through the middle of the forearm, both ends protruding from it comically. The orc's fortune was not lost on him however. Even in this agonizing moment, he realized that, had he not raised his arms, the bolt would be sticking out the back of his skull instead of through his lower arm.

"Did you hit 'im?" Magda yelled as she was as blind to the orc as he was to her.

The boy seemed to ignore her as he moved to his knees, gently placing the crossbow to the floor. Sensing that he didn't have enough time to load before the wounded orc decided to come at them again, he took a stray bolt into his hand, gripped it underhand like an assassin would a dagger before delivering a killing blow.

"Time to be a man." He whispered Magda's words to himself as he rose to his feet.

"No." Magda's voice hitched, as she watched the boy rush to stab the stunned and unarmed orc.