She drew the sword from its scabbard slowly, meticulously, listening to the soft whisper of hardened leather on steel. The rain was beating down on the roof of the small shack where she had hidden away from the pursuing enemies but it beat out a rhythm to which she drew out the weapon and the sounds so soft and forsaken brought a silence to the noise that none could imagine. The noise of the rain had faded and was no longer pounding upon her eardrums and she could hear the voices above the whisper of hide and metal and she knew they were close, closer than she had believed them to be. Of course, she knew they would invade the small hovel and plunge their swords into her tender flesh, bringing about her demise, but couldn’t she, for a few moments at least, indulge in the power lent to her by the mighty sword in her hand?
Her breathing was slow and steady when the door flew inward and dipped off the upper wooden bolt. She lifted her eyes to the three large men framed in the doorway, swords at the ready. She sat in the center of the room upon the dirt floor as water leaked in through the roof and tapped the floor around her. She looked at them with eyes framed by dark lashes, the lashes of her father, green eyes of her mother. She allowed her straight black hair to fall about her like a cloud of doom as they hesitated, captured within the darkness of her stare. She would kill at least one, she vowed silently to herself as she stood, her torn clothing still moist from the driving rain.
“Please, my lady,” the nearest one called and she shook the buzz from her ears. They had come to claim her, come to fetch her to the place that they desired for her to go, a place far away where she would be unsafe and used for power and all the rights of her life. “Please,”
“I shall kill any who approach,” she whispered, hoping they wouldn’t hear her and would approach mistakenly, giving her the chance to bring blood to her thirsty sword.
The man that pressed past the others to stand within the safety of the shack was broad-shouldered and handsome, his shoulder-length black hair curling from the rain and dripping upon the dirt floor and the woven shirt underneath a leather vest. He tilted his head, squared his shoulders and tightened his jaw as he saw her.
“You are bleeding,” he said, in a deep, masculine voice as his slate eyes narrowed. “Foolish girl,”
“No need,” she muttered, annoyed that he would call her a fool. She tightened her grip on the sword. “Any who approach. My sword is thirsty for the blood of men this day.”
He watched her as a frown pulled his full lips downward. “If you had only surrendered…”
She wanted to lunge at him, wanted to ram her sword into his abdomen and whisper in his ear a blessing to the dead as his vision would cloud over with the film of death but she knew that the others would move and protect him before she could get three steps nearer. So she waited.
“Master-” one of the men from the door called out and the dark haired man lifted his hand, preventing him from speaking.
“The deal has been made,” the man said as he took a step nearer. She watched his thick leather boots atop the dirt floor and narrowed her eyes. How out of place it all seemed suddenly. She raised her eyes to his face and brought the sword out in front of her.
“Hold,”
“If you had only surrendered,” he said again and took another step.
“Hold, I say,” she resisted the urge to back away. Her breathing had quickened and she struggled to bring it back to deep and steady breaths. Her hands didn’t shake, though the sword was heavier than those she was use to. She subtly placed her right foot behind and to the side of her left and prepared to battle, prepared to fight to her death or her freedom, whatever the outcome.
“It would have been so splendid,” his hand flicked out, almost carelessly, and she didn’t see the stone until she could do nothing to avoid it. Her right temple exploded in pain and light flared behind her eyes. She shut them in a slow blink and shook away the dizzying darkness that crept upon the edges of her vision. The sword didn’t waver but in that second of delay, the man closed the distance and took hold of the sword, wresting it from her grasp and binding her hands. “Now, you will have to make due with humiliation.”
Another sharp pain danced across her head, more lights flared to life behind her eyes, and darkness that couldn’t be battled fell upon her as she slipped into unconsciousness.
