The war horn blew again and again. Soldiers scrambled out of their tents, donning armor, others strapping on weapons, the more prepared ones already getting into formations here and there. Yet, this army wasn’t as organized as I knew, as I’d want, as any kingdom would need. I saw few commanders and the soldiers appeared to have no set points to et up with their regints. It wasn’t looking good for our team.
I hurried past the soldiers in whatever formation, or lack thereof they took, and finally, nearing our tent, I called out, “Cresida?”
From within, she yelled at , “Get inside!”
She was furiously packing when I entered, stuffing clothing into a chest. “Here,” she said, pointing at the table, “you’d better eat sothing if you haven’t had dinner.” Bread, cheeses and ats were on it, tea, too.
“Shouldn’t we be, uhm, joining the other won sowhere better protected?”
“Where?” she yelled, voice raising. “Where! Do you know where? Because I don’t! We just set up the tents! And my husband hasn’t even bothered to tell what’s going on!”
“Right. No designated, protected area for us noncombatants.”
She stared at for a mont, then madly went back to throwing stuff on her bed, near the chest, readying to pack it.
I made a point to tell the captain, later, how much his army sucks. My general Brundle would eat these guys alive. I guess that’s what happens when you depend on mages for military supremacy and then have no mages. If the captain survives, that is. If we survive.
Placing my hand on her arm, I said, “Cresida, leave this. It’s just stuff. We’ll go find the other won and children and-”
“-if they’ve got a plan, they’ll co for us! Now, help pack if you don’t mind.”
“You’re just making your belongings easier to be stolen.”
“The wagons will be loaded! I’m not leaving my belongings. This is all I have left!”
I tried not to feel guilty at that, since, you know, I’d burned all her other stuff when I lted the castle, but collateral damage and all that.
Another horn sounded, out of tune but very loud, and then stopped abruptly. I could just make out the clash of tal on tal and it didn’t stop, but continued, growing in volu, nearer, with each mont.
“Shit, Cresida, there’s no ti.”
She kept packing, throwing dishes atop the clothing now, ignoring .
The neighing of horses, hooves drumming ground, shouts and screams. Louder, closer. I grabbed her hand, trying to pull her away, speaking sternly, “We have to go. The camp is overrun.”
“No!” She shook off. “They’ll co for us.”
“You’re not listening!”
“Leave if you want!”
The fighting was getting closer and closer. Pretty soon, leaving the tent wouldn’t make much of a difference, but staying would be worse, with the bed right there and all. I looked around for a weapon, any weapon. And picked up the only thing I saw, an iron frying pan. It was, at least, heavy. “Fudge.”
With her desperately trying to control what little was left to her and worsening our – well, my – situation, I wondered why I didn’t just leave. It’s not like I owed her anything. Maybe all her stuff, since that was , but I didn’t really even like the woman. And she had been, at the ti of my castle destroying, on team bad guy.
A small hole in the tent opened up, sunlight streaming in, then the other side. An arrow had just gone through. I moved over and grabbed her arm harshly, “Cresida! There’s no more ti!”
Horses thundered past the tent, tal crashing into tal just outside.
She yanked her arm out of mine but stopped and stood up, watching the tent flap as it waved up and down in the wind, finally paying attention to the noise of battle outside. “We can . . . hide under the bed.”
“Let’s not make it easy for them. Co,” I pulled her by the hand toward the entrance, but we were stopped short.
A tall, not quite skinny man entered, disheveled beard, smile up the side of his face, curved blade in his right hand. Upon seeing two girls holding hands, one with a frying pan, his smile grew wider.
Cresida tightened her grip on . I shook her off. Stepped forward. “Whatever you want, it’s not here.”
He gestured with his sword at my dress.
Angling my body forty-five degrees to the right, right foot back, I dropped the frying pan to my side, left arm up. Dangerous, for I was giving him my heart, but also hiding my weapon.
Fearless and striding toward , he sheathed his sword, reached to take hold of my left arm and I grabbed his instead, pulling him toward where I’d been standing as I pivoted around on my left foot, slamming the iron into his temple. He pitched forward, I followed him down, frying pan cracking into the back of his neck with all my weight. His legs twitched.
I pushed him over, undid his belt and was soon wearing sothing like a saber on one side, dirk on the other. Great! Back in business.
Cresida had her hands over her mouth. “Sarah! How did you . . . ?”
“I’m leaving. Stay if you want to.” And with that, I turned and exited this canvas rape palace.
A pitched battle was taking place so distance away from our position. The mages’ army had ford up, pikes out, holding off cavalry, who were restlessly charging around them, searching for openings. A lone soldier raced toward his fellows, and a cavalryman rode him down, horse knocking him over and stomping on him. Then the mounted soldier drove his spear into the downed soldier’s body.
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The horsen rode through the camp, trying to keep the mage’s army from forming up, picking off any stragglers they found. Smoke from fires drifting through the air. The screams of the dying, cries of the wounded, the shouts of n in battle.
When the invader’s ranged forces got here in full, our guys, holed up in small patches, shield to shield, were done if they couldn’t organize a retreat.
For a mont, I scanned for any errant horses. Getting a hold of one would make our lives so much easier. A few, but they were running out in the open, away from the tents. Too dangerous.
I stayed against the tent, trying to work out where to go. Not forward, that’s where n raged against n. But the other way likely ant the bulk of their infantry and ranged. Skirmishers, peltasts, archers, and the like. Damnit! That wouldn’t work, either.
From behind , “Sarah?”
“I don’t know. We’re going to take a horse! Stay close, don’t scream, and we’ll get through this.” And, god damnit, today would have been a great day to forgo the dress in favor of an enemy uniform. The dead guy’s behind wouldn’t fit, though, unless I had two or three racoons to go on top.
Most of the tents had been trampled, so were burning, and few horses raced between them now, and there were less and less lone soldiers for them to attack. Each military was clustering, though the invaders maintained their formations better. We’d probably be seen, but we had little choice. Hopefully, active combat would keep them away from us.
More of the tents were on fire to the right, smoke billowing up into the sky, and a line of them yet stood. Took a deep breath, I looked back, not quite focusing on Cresida, “We’re going through the tents over there, all the way to the tree line. Keep low!”
I ducked, dragging her along by her hand. A part of felt foolish. This wasn’t a modern war, no shrapnel exploded near us, and yet we rushed along as best we could, crouching all the way. Here and there horsen raced past.
“Stop!” I said, as loud as I dared, pulling her down, kneeling into the dirt. “Let these guys pass.”
Five skirmishers rushed on, swords drawn, into the fray beyond. Just then, another horn sounded off to the west. A long toot, followed by three short ones.
“That’s ours!” said Cresida. “They’re regrouping – let’s head that way!” She jumped up to go, but I pulled her to a stop.
“Not yet. The enemy will head that way, too. We’ll go in a round about direction.” Before she could think or get another word in, I dragged her along, forward. Unfortunately, we’d pass near the command tents.
A trampled area used as a road separated us from the last tree line. Enemy soldiers marched along it in the direction of the horn. The command tent would be to the right, I didn’t look, too busy watching for our chance.
“My husband!” she said, tugging at .
“It’s too late for him!” Looking over, it wasn’t the captain, but a similarly sized man, sa hair. Different features. Kneeling. And that’s when my breath left . An elderly woman dressed in a white and brown costu slapped him across the face.
“Oh! That’s not him. Who . . . who is she?”
“Evil nun, very evil. We have to get out of here.” My inner voice was screaming at , and I did my best to shut it. These guys, this entire army, they were clearly here for . But why? Who in their right mind would pursue a god? A god that was not terribly happy with their order, to say the least.
“Evil nuns?”
“Fuck!”
“I thought you didn’t swear.”
“Those nuns warrant it!” There was a brief interlude in the fray, smoke wafting over the road from the burning tents, and the next batch of soldiers were busy watching the nun slap her captive. Chancing a look, I saw her gesture at a very, very large man. And that man swung an axe right through captain-look-alike’s neck. “Co on!” I dragged her across the open area into a bunch of trees, running as fast as we could.
“My husband must be alive and rallying the troops. We have to head in that direction!”
“In ti! Right now we’re going north until there’s no more soldiers around us.” We raced along a footpath through the trees and into a clearing, directly into five soldiers. They stopped, taking us in.
“What do we have here, boys?” said an older soldier, greying beard, dirt on his face. He pointed his sword at us.
“We’re not soldiers.”
“Clearly. Our orders are to-”
Another one stepped in front of him, pushing him back, “Shut it. You two, you’ll co with us.”
I began backing up, back to the tree line, arm in front of Cresida, pushing her back. Five ard n in chainmail. Probably too many for , this body. Why oh why didn’t I choose a seven-foot-tall beast of a man for this life? Well, my critical, self-reflective inner voice said, Morry wouldn’t have been attracted to then.
“And where do you think you’re going?” said the one who was apparently their leader.
I turned slightly, softly saying, “Stay behind .” Then took a step forward. “Not with you.”
“Is that so?” He continued approaching, walking within a few feet of , weapon down. The others were watching him, not treating us as enemy combatants, not worried in the slightest.
I put my hands up, palms toward him, “We’re just trying to get out of here. We, ah, an you no harm.”
Two feet away now and closing. “an us no harm?”
I sidestepped past him on his left, my right arm first pushing his sword arm down, then I slamd the edge of my hand into his Adam’s apple, while kicking the back of his knees and down he went, hands on his throat.
“What the hell?” The other four drew their weapons.
I drew my dirk and, staring at the new leader, fell to my knees, impaling the choking one’s neck, just to make sure. Then I stood, circling left, where the younger mbers were, to not let them build an attack line.
Shaking his head, the leader said to , “Lass, you’re in a world of hurt now.”
The first boy looked nervous. His friend was closing up to his flank, so I quickly snapped my blade against his right hand, wrapping his knuckles hard and, when he looked down, whipped it into his face, cutting his cheek, and felt stupid for not severing his neck.
The man to his right rushed then, the other two further pausing, then ran toward , too. I ducked, then sprang into the first man, shoving my sword into his neck with my left, pivoted backwards on my right foot, throwing my dirk into one of the oncoming n, then dropped and rolled behind the boy I’d spared.
As I stood, the boy tensed up, shaking. His friend lay at his feet, clutching his neck and bleeding out, the other guy stiff and twitching, dirk in his left eye.
To the leader’s credit, he shut up and simply swung his sword down, but he had to step over his twitching friend.
I rely backed up, out of his range, saying, “Like I said, we’re leaving.”
“You bitch! You’re out of weapons now!” He swung his sword again, the air split in front of .
I waited, backing up, circling to my left
Taking two steps forward, he swung again.
Might as well taunt him. “You’re shit at swinging swords.”
He let out a roar, leapt forward, slashing down toward and I moved into his body, taking hold of his downward swinging sword arm and pulling with all my upper body weight, back leg bent. He flew forward, flipping onto his back.
I crushed his fingers into the sword handle, bending his wrist down and pushing his arm straight, then put my knee right through his elbow. The sword ca out of his fingers easily as he scread. I then pushed the point into his neck until he stopped.
“Boy, don’t follow us.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Go report this to your command. Go!” As he rushed away, I went and found the blades that fit the sheathes on this belt and wiped them off on the bodies’ clothing.
“Sa-sa-rah?” Cresida said, standing still and pale as a sheet of new paper.
“Hey,” I walked over to her. “We need to get out of here.”
“How did you-”
“I have really an brothers. More soldiers are on the way, we have to go.” I took her by the hand and led us deeper into the forest hurriedly. When we’d walked far enough in that direction, we took a path heading westward. From there, we’d circle back south and hopefully find the bulk of Cresida’s army.
Probably should have killed the boy, but he didn’t seem unkind, just lost, and I simply couldn’t. But I probably should have.
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