Jaques turned to face Astrid. "Come now, woman. Let us position ourselves. On the count of three, we let our arrows loose, and see who the better aim is."
Jaques's confident attitude made her gag. To think I almost thought he was attractive. He turned his hazel eyes on her, with their hint of green and she ignored him.
"Very well then, may the better archer, win." She smiled solemnly, and started to pull back on the bowstring. Astrid prepared to loose an arrow that was not yet visible to her, or to anyone around them.
Help me out, Aronus. I need you.
A loud voice boomed out, "one, two, three!" The soldiers snickered behind her. She released the bowstring, and in that moment, the wisp of smoke appeared and to the astonishment of those around her, two arrows left her bow, one landing solidly in the apple on top of Jenmir's head. The other landing dead center of the arrow that had gone through the apple on Eustace's head. It split the poorly crafted wood arrow, straight down the center.
At the sight of such a thing, one of the men yelled, "witchcraft! Burn her!"
That incited a mob, and before she had a chance to think, she was sprinting for her life.
"Kill the witch!" they yelled after her.
Jaques was nowhere to be seen. And to her dismay, neither was the kindly older man. She found herself quickly clambering over and down the mountainside from where she had just come. The way down was steep, and as she scrambled down, she lost her foothold and began to slide.
Her body built momentum going downward, and the rocks tore at her exposed flesh. She reached out her hands, clawing anything she could. Finally, she grabbed hold of an exposed root, and her pace slowed. Pulling herself to a stop, she struggled to catch her breath. Above her, the men had stopped yelling. No one had been brave enough to chase her down the mountainside, and for that she was grateful.
She gripped the root with all her might, remaining still in the hopes that her pursuers would think she'd fallen to her death. She balanced on her toes, holding the root, and laying against the rock wall until the sun faded from the sky. At twilight, she began crawling along the side of the mountain, hurrying while there was still a little light to see. She traveled beyond where she expected the soldiers to be.
Aronus had gone silent, as she expected. Though it didn't matter, the pain and the task of sneaking back up the mountain once more was enough to distract her from his absence earlier. Though it was not enough to distract her from wondering where Cayden, or Jaques, had come from.
As she picked her way across the mountain's harsh face, her pace slowed more and more, until the only way she could go was straight up. This part of the mountain was nearly vertical. Each ledge and handhold more treacherous than anything she had climbed before.
Aronus, a hand would be nice. Unseen Ones, be with me or at least let my dragon guide be here for me. I already climbed the mountain once. Have I not passed your test? she thought, as she hoisted herself up.
Night fell hard and heavy, and she had to keep her eyes focused upward to make sure that no one had gotten in front of her, and that all her work was for nothing. The soldiers had called her a witch. They probably thought she used magic to climb. If only, she thought. Her muscles screamed in protest, threatening to stop powering her forward.
The rocks became rougher to climb as her legs cried out in agony, she felt the feeling leave her fingertips, and the pain that shot through her body was a strong reminder that she was alive, no matter how many times this mountain tried to defeat her.
"I'll keep climbing until my muscles fail, and I plummet to my death," Astrid grumbled during a short break to catch her breath.
“That's my good human." Aronus appeared next to her, though she dared not turn her head to watch him. "I'm here, Astrid. Just keep fighting your way up."
"I thought you said you couldn't help me," she replied, then grunted as her hand searched for another hold, and she pulled herself a little higher.
"I can't help you, but I can spur you on. You've already conquered this mountain before, you can do it again."
The sound of his voice and wings near her, was reassuring.
"Why should I have to do it again?" she asked, pressing her head against the boulder before her. "Can't you give me a little hoist, help ease the climb?" Her eyes opened and she looked down, to see how far the fall would be if she dropped, but it was too dark to see anything below her.
She needed the sky to outline what was above her. Astrid lifted her head up, eyes focused on the barely visible goal. Her arm and leg muscles quivered with every advance, and there were times she closed her eyes and feared falling to her death, but that was when Aronus would be there.
"Keep going, Astrid. Keep fighting. The harder the journey and the longer the road, the more worthy the prize at the end."
"Easy for you to say. You have wings."
"You don't think I can get tired?"
"No," she grunted when she pulled herself, belly-first onto the next ledge.
"Then you would be somewhat wrong," Aronus clarified. "Know that I am suffering with you. I smell spruce tips." The dragon was off like he'd been fired from her bow.
Astrid laughed as much as she was able, before returning to her grim task of the climb. She expected that if she had seen her route in the daytime, she would have balked. Darkness and ignorance were her friends.
Unlike the rat that called himself her guide.
For a little while longer she had the energy to keep going. With the top ledge in reach, she grabbed it, and pulled herself quietly up and over, hoping that no one would be awake to notice her arrival.
"Quietly, Astrid. You're going to need to hide." Aronus landed on the ground, using his head to nuzzle her feet. "Come on, we don't have much time."
"Aronus, I can't." Astrid laid sprawled uncomfortably on her side, unable to move from the pain that shot up her bloodied thighs and arms.
"You've come this far, let's get you to safety and then you can rest for a while. Please?" His worried voice was cause for concern as he never seemed to be worried about anything.
Men laughing from a distance reached their ears.
"Oh Aronus, I can't..."
"Don't worry, I can see them, but it's too dark for them to see anything over here. Come on, follow me, and stay low to the ground. There are some rocks over here. You can at least lay behind them until you get your strength back up."
"All right," she agreed.
She pushed herself forward, surprised because she thought she had nothing left, and when they had reached the rocks, she crawled behind them, and fell onto her side, with no energy to even remove her pack.
Unable to reach her water container, Aronus flew to one of the nearby camps where he grabbed one that hung off a tree branch. A basket of fruits sat near a tent, and with his talons, he scooped up a few pieces.
Dawn would come quickly, and his human needed everything she could to regain her strength. He flew back to her resting body and sat by her feet, snuggling tight against her as she slept through the night.
29
Svana
Some people believe that men and women are built for different things, but most of the time, their preconceived opinion is flat out wrong. Some things do come more naturally for one or the other, but most things can be accomplished by either man or woman. It is not the anatomy that is important, but the character of the person.
King Nicklaus the Brave, First King of Caelestis, 251 A.V.
Svana watched the soldiers in the distance, studying their every move. It wouldn't be too hard to pose as a soldier. And she definitely wasn't scared of a fight. In fact, Svana imagined she was a more-skilled swordsmen than many of them. Joining the army was definitely a clear path toward reaching the king, or at least, the only path Svana could see. She knew Lingaria may not have been completely supportive of her decision to join the army, but Svana felt it was her only option.
"Trying to break into the castle, or seek an audience with the king is going to be
pointless. If I join the army, they serve the king," Svana said.
"You don't believe that serving alongside that lot is going to grant you an audience with the king, do you?" Lingaria asked.
"Do you have any better ideas?" Svana asked as she hurried toward the advancing army.
Stubborn girl, he answered in her head as his body became one with the sword at her side.
"Not even going to wish me good luck?" she teased.
Lingaria didn't respond to her humor.
"Never mind with you, you temperamental beast. I have to do this." Svana strode purposefully and attentively to the group of soldiers who looked more like brigands, watching their every move to see how they would respond to her presence.
"Well, well, look what we have here." A short man, with a large pot belly sauntered toward her. His dark brown tunic was ragged with holes and his arms barely long enough to grab the sword from his left side. "And all alone."
"What are you doing this close to the castle, milady? Certainly you cannot think that it would be safe?" Another soldier whose clothes seemed in less disrepair stood in front of the pot-bellied man, stopping him from coming any closer to her.
"I want to join the army," Svana responded, standing tall, hand on her sword.
That took both men by surprise as was evident by the wide-eyed expressions on their faces. Boisterous laughter followed her declaration, but it wasn't coming from the pot-bellied man and his companion. The laughter increased, and soon, both men joined in and Svana could feel heat burning her cheeks as her teeth clenched together.
"If you give me a chance, you'll see I'm just as good a fighter as any of you. All I'm asking for is a chance."
Svana withdrew her sword from its leather scabbard and spread her feet apart slightly. This was her battle stance, and she could only hope it would be enough that any one of the soldiers before her would take her up on her unspoken challenge.
"Look, woman... you could be the best fighter ever, but we don't take women," he said.
She gave him a long, hard stare, noting the scar on his cheek, and the worn leather boots on his feet. He was aged, but not by much more than her, judging by his still smooth skin and the shadow of stubble on his chin.
"Why is that? Afraid of the competition?" she challenged.
He studied her as if he thought she were joking, and the men behind him laughed again.
"Well, she's got spunk, I'll give her that," the pot-bellied man spoke again.
"I say we give her a shot, eh?" his companion chimed in.
Svana straightened her back and thrust her sword in front of her. The stubble-faced man grinned and took a step forward.
"If you're going to hang around this lot, you're going to have to learn to fight with your fists. We don't all come out with swords drawn," he said.
"Fine then," she replied.
Svana slid her sword back in its scabbard, and for the split second that she glanced down, she heard his footsteps advance. Her eyes looked up just in time to see a solid fist fly at her face. It landed on her jaw, with a solid smack, and for a moment the entire world spun. Svana fell back, hitting the ground before tucking and rolling back to her feet.
The stubble-faced man laughed hard at her misfortune and started to turn to walk away. Svana wasn't finished. She took off after him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. As she spun him to face her, her right arm reared back and she let her fist fly, rotating her wrist before it landed to keep from hurting herself. The sound that followed was nothing short of satisfying.
"Hey!" the pot-bellied man yelled.
He came waddling toward her, but she didn't wait. She dashed at him, snap-kicking his groin. He doubled over, puked, and fell to the ground holding himself while cursing her.
Stubble-faced man had recovered from being punched and tenderly rubbed his jaw. The soldiers stopped laughing. Some cringed and twitched, covering themselves in solidarity with the nut-punched man.
"Not bad for a woman."
"You're a coward for punching me when I wasn't prepared," she said through gritted teeth, and eyes scrunched.
"Look here, darling, no one is going to take it easy on you because you're a woman. Quite the opposite. You want to join this army, you have to take the hits even when you aren't prepared. If you can't handle me, you certainly aren't going to handle this lot." He motioned toward the men. "If you can handle that, the way you handled knocking me in the jaw just now, I say, welcome to our rag-tag group of Tellurian scouts."
"I can handle anything you throw at me, sir." With that, she made her way over to the group, whose mouths were ready to question their leader, quip and catcall, but the expression on her face broached no disrespect.
"Gather him up and let's head back to the castle. We're not going to find any meat out here this day." Stubble-faced man was clearly in charge, though Svana had yet to tell if he was the captain or just the loudest mouth of the bunch. He motioned for them to pick up pot-bellied man, who hadn't been able to stand and was still groaning in pain.
"No meat except for her!" One soldier finally gave voice to the soldiers' thoughts, giving her a look of pure animal lust. The other soldiers laughed, and one clapped him on the back.
Svana's eyes widened, and her face turned as red as her hair. She walked up to the man, boldly meeting his eyes. She rotated at the waist, using the strength of her trunk to drive her fist faster. It met his nose, exploding blood across his face. He staggered backward. He would have fallen if not for his fellows grabbing his arms.
"I'm not a piece of meat. I'm a soldier," she said with a scowl, "and if you ever look at me like that again, so help me, I will gouge out your eyes, before cutting off your man parts and shoving them down--"
"Ow! You wench! You broke my nose!" Blood poured from the soldier's busted face. He glared indignantly at her. "I'm going to get you for that."
"No one is 'getting' anyone, Clarence. You barely hold your own on a good day, so shut your mouth. Woman, you are a soldier in this army, and as a soldier, you will treat them with respect."
"If he deserved it, I'd be more than happy to," she said through clenched teeth.
"Whether he deserves it or not," he said, "and that goes for the rest of you as well. We need to be alert, and that isn't going to happen if we are fighting each other. Anyone else gets caught beating up on one another, or causing fights, it's to the stocks with you." His stern voice silenced their laughs.
Satisfied with the response, Svana made her way to the back of the group. She matched pace with them as they headed back to the castle.
They were near the drawbridge, when someone said, "the king is never going to allow for a woman soldier."
"Maybe a mistress!" someone called.
Boisterous laughter followed.
"You're all a bunch of cowards. You have a woman in your presence, and all you can think is to treat her like scum?" she asked. "It's no wonder you're out here playing pretend in an army that isn't even in battle, and not at home with a wife. No respectable woman would want any of you."
The intense hunger she was feeling, their lack of respect, and her frustration at not being at the castle, caused her anger to boil up and over.
"Well, no respectable man is going to want you," a soldier to the front of her said, and she grabbed his shoulder spinning him around as she had the stubble-faced man. She aimed her right fist at his cheek, and when it had made contact, she swung her left fist at his stomach.
The impact of both was enough to make the man keel over.
"That's it! To the stocks with you!" stubble-faced man yelled, and all at once several men converged, seizing her. They doubled-up on her arms and held her tightly. Someone grabbed a fistful of her red hair and twisted viciously.
"Let me go!" she screamed, and kicked her feet, thrashing her body. "He deserved it! You said we are to give each other respect!"
A hand went over her mouth, and she realized the stubble-faced man now towered over her. "Stop kicking, an
d fighting and screaming, and I'll make sure the king spares your life. Otherwise, it's to the gallows with you."
That shut Svana up, and she stopped fighting her restraints as the men dragged her toward the castle. In an area outside, the stubble-faced man hailed another. They talked briefly before the man pointed and waved.
To Svana's dismay, she was chained and connected to a line of foul-smelling prisoners. They took note of the red-headed beauty, but their spirits were broken. Their eyes drifted back to the ground and their impending fate.
One of the men who chained her, looked up at her apologetically, as he reached around her waist to grab her scabbard. Svana almost didn't say anything, knowing that Lingaria would never allow it to be moved from her unless it was her will.
"I have to warn you before you do that, it may not bode well for you."
"Milady, I hate to remind you that you are chained."
She nodded while she said, "Indeed I am, but you've been warned."
Clearly he didn't see her as a threat with chains around her wrists and ankles while they shuffled forward, and as he tried to grab the scabbard from around her waist, Svana saw the flash of light, and the man flinging backward, knocking over a soldier on the way. The man who tried to take her sword furrowed his eyebrows at her.
"What did you just do?" he demanded.
"I did nothing, I told you it wouldn't work out well for you if you touched my sword. You didn't listen."
"What's going on back here, what's the hold up?" stubble-faced man had returned.
"I tried to take her sword, as we do with all our prisoners, and she kicked me or something. I don't know."
"How did I kick you? My ankles are in shackles, you ridiculous oaf!"
"She did something," the other man who had been knocked down, piped up. "Durrant here went to retrieve her sword, and there was a flash of light and next thing you know, he's flying through the air and right into us."
"Want to tell me what's going on? And how about a name to go with all that red?" He narrowed his eyes at her.
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