When there were only ten ogres left to fight, they formed a ring around her. Jillian clenched the sword, slippery with green blood. Her arms trembled. She spun around, wondering whether she had the strength to continue the fight. If she dropped her guard for an instant, she knew the ogres would close in and kill her.
A quick glance up the hill showed that the unicorn was gone. Dark, motionless bodies lay scattered like river pebbles. She killed an ogre, then another, leaving only eight.
Her arms shook, burning with fatigue. She wiped sweat from her eyes with a blood-covered forearm, then feinted forward. The ogres recoiled, either from fear or respect.
It didn’t matter. Seeing them back away gave Jillian the spark of energy she needed. Moving WarMaster through the air like a dancer’s ribbon, she spun and pirouetted between and amongst the ogres, cutting, slashing, and stabbing. Within the space of a dozen heartbeats, it was over.
Silence descended. The fairies cheered, and Jillian realized that they were surrounded only by dead ogre bodies. No ogre survived.
Except one.
“Don’t forget, the queen yet lives,” said Auberon, as the red unicorn trotted up to the building and pawed at the entrance.
An enormous ogre, more powerful than any they had yet seen, burst from the open door of the stone building and launched herself onto the red unicorn’s back. The unicorn stumbled, then screamed in fear as the queen’s weight threatened to crush him.
The ogre queen bunched her powerful muscles and grabbed the unicorn in a powerful headlock, cutting off his fearful scream. The whites of his eyes showed as he tossed his head, seeking escape from the monster on his back.
“Stop!” Jillian shouted.
The unicorn stumbled in one direction, then another, weighted down by the enormous ogre, trying to escape. The queen slashed at the unicorn’s hide with a pair of ragged claws, then bit deep into the unicorn’s neck.
Blood flowed.
Jillian moved WarMaster to her other hand.
She leapt forward and then dodged their massive, thrashing bodies. The ogre queen’s powerful arms crushed around the unicorn’s throat. A cold wave of fear flooded through Jillian.
She watched for the right moment, afraid to hurt the unicorn. When they stumbled closer, she saw an opportunity.
With a quick hop and a lightning-fast thrust, she jammed the sword deep into the ogre queen’s ribcage, just under her muscled arm.
The ogre queen’s eyes flew wide. Her mouth opened. She let out an anguished scream, slid off the unicorn, and crumpled to a heap on the ground.
The unicorn stumbled away, breathing heavily, his sides heaving. Jillian stood, trembling, her sword point touching the ground. Green ogre blood running down the blade made a small puddle.
The fight was over. They had won this battle. But there were more, deep in the Dark Woods.
~*~
Two days later, Jillian walked into her parents’ home. Her mother burst into tears, then grabbed her in a tight hug. Her father wiped his eyes.
“Where were you?” he said, his voice husky. “We thought you had been taken by kidnappers.”
Jillian shrugged. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.”
Her mother wiped her face. “Young lady, you scared us!”
“I know.”
Her father noticed WarMaster hanging from her belt. His eyes widened. “Is that your grandfather’s sword? Young lady, you didn’t have permission to take that!”
Jillian shrugged. “It’s mine now. I only stopped by to pick up the rest of my things.”
Her mother stepped back. “What? Where are you going?
Jillian tilted her head. “Back into the Dark Woods.”
“I forbid it. I won’t have you out there. It’s too dangerous. You’re only a little girl.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed in disapproval.
Jillian shook her head. “Not anymore, I’m not. We’re at war with the ogres. I can’t stay here. If I do, they’ll find me...and then they’ll come for you, too. I can’t let that happen.”
Her father frowned. “Jillian, stop this ogre nonsense. It was bad enough that your Grandfather told those ridiculous stories.”
She made a dismissive gesture. “They weren’t stories. Ogres are real. I’ve met them. I’ve killed them. Well, some of them. The rest are waiting for me.”
“Don’t you back-talk me!” Her father’s face twisted in anger and grew red.
Jillian ignored him. “I’ve brought back some protection. The fairies will watch over you while I’m gone.”
Auberon entered the room and Jillian’s mother let out a squeal of fright.
“Hello,” said Auberon, blushing. “Nice to meet you.”
Her father’s eyes widened, and his red face grew pale.
She ran to her room and threw the rest of her clothes into the knapsack, then rejoined her parents. “I’m leaving now. I love you. Be careful and do what Auberon says.” She walked out the front door.
Her parents followed her outside, not knowing what else to do. Jillian grabbed a handful of red mane and swung up on the unicorn’s back. Both her parents glanced at each other, then back to the improbable beast standing before them.
“Are you riding a...unicorn?” her mother asked, voice faint.
Jillian stared into the blood-red sunset before answering. “It isn’t safe anymore. It may never be safe again. I love you both, but I have to go.”
Jillian tugged on the unicorn’s mane and dug her heels into his muscular flanks.
Galloping hard, the unicorn disappeared with his tiny rider into the Dark Woods.
~***~
Lou J Berger is an Active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) and has published short stories in Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, Daily Science Fiction, and a handful of anthologies. Recently, he was a Finalist in the Writers of the Future contest. He can be found on Facebook and on Twitter (@LouJBerger), and his website is: http://www.LouJBerger.com
Ian R. Berger is fascinated with video games and fighting ogres, and was instrumental in coming up with the overall arc of this story. He is the proud slave to his kitty-cat, Boo, and a jolly dog with a perennial grin, Jack. He shares time between his dad and his mom, and he loves to spend time with his sister and his brother. Although he frequently rolls his eyes at his dad for lame dad jokes, he secretly is very happy to have co-authored a story with him.
PRINCESS LAST PICKED
DAWN VOGEL
Princess Alastriona watched as the numbers dwindled. She tried to keep her chin up, but even that became more and more difficult. Finally, there were only two left—herself and Eithne, among the smallest near-grown girls in the settlement.
Darieann was almost always one of the captains for the mock battle the near-grown children organized from time to time, and she had developed a cruel streak in her leadership. She looked over her options and smirked. “Eithne.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Nessa, the other captain, said, “Fine. I guess we get Princess Alastriona.” Nessa glared at Alastriona. “You’d better be able to keep up.”
Alastriona nodded before she limped over to Nessa’s group. Every time the children chose teams for their mock battle, Alastriona was the last one picked. Between her slight build and withered right leg, she was not good at fighting. Most of her peers didn’t use her actual name. They called her Princess Last Picked, a nickname that chafed her.
Princess Alastriona was heir to the rulership of the settlement, and her parents assured her that her disability would not matter if she could command the respect of her subjects. But try though she might, she was never chosen to lead either of the teams for the mock battles. And she dared not ask her parents to intervene on her behalf. No one respected a team captain who had been handed the position, rather than earning it through battle prowess.
If she had her way, she wouldn’t even be out with the other children. She preferred to spend her days in the library, amongst the books. But
her mother insisted that the best way for her to learn to be a leader was to join the other children her age in their mock battles, fought with wooden weapons.
With the teams decided, the captains distributed the scraps of fabric that they used to designate their team members. The bit of blue fabric that Nessa handed Alastriona was barely enough to knot around her walking stick. When Darieann and Nessa had first come up with this game, when they and Alastriona were but seven, there had been enough fabric for everyone to wear a sash. But over the past six years, the supply of scraps had frayed and dwindled, much like Darieann and Nessa’s friendliness toward Alastriona.
Alastriona looked over the other members of Nessa’s team, hoping to find at least someone she trusted to not leave her behind if the battle became one that ranged across the hills outside the settlement. Bradach could easily carry her on his back, but he’d likely abandon her in pursuit of greater glory.
Her best option was to stick near Seumas, as he wouldn’t give chase after the battle. He preferred to watch from the sidelines. Though the other children knew he wouldn’t participate in the fighting, they always wanted him on their team, because after the battle, he sang the praises of every member of their team. Even Alastriona, when they were on the same team, received his lauding, typically about how she avoided capture by the enemy. He was kind enough to downplay the fact that she was never in danger, since she rarely made any attacks against the opposing force.
As the two teams sized each other up, a strange quiet fell over them. At first, Princess Alastriona thought of it as the calm before the storm. But this was a deeper sort of silence, muffling even the whispers and giggles of her teammates beside her.
Then a booming voice drifted across the field. “Let those who believe themselves strong be struck weak and bound with the shackles they would cast toward me.” There was a strange lilting accent to the words that Alastriona couldn’t place. She looked around, trying to find the source, and thinking that she was not strong, unless minds and wills were included.
Dazzling lights flashed before her eyes, causing her to stumble. Her backside landed on something solid, which stung. But then the lights cleared, and she was seated on a stump.
The other children, save Eithne and Seumas, had all fallen to the ground, their bodies rigid and strained. None of them moved an inch, though a faint keening sound came from Darieann’s vicinity.
Eithne looked around. “What just happened?”
Alastriona rose from the stump and clumsily sat beside Darieann. She looked over her former friend carefully, placing an ear near Darieann’s mouth. The keening quieted, and Darieann’s breath came in rasping gasps instead. “I’m not certain,” Alastriona said. “Did any of you see anything just now?”
“Shimmering lights,” Eithne said. “Like faeries.”
Seumas nodded. “Like faeries, or magic.”
Princess Alastriona exhaled slowly. That had been her fear as well, and hearing the others say it solidified the idea in her mind.
A heavy scraping sound drew her attention. “The gates,” she gasped. “They’re opening.”
“Someone must have arrived,” Eithne said.
“Yes, but who? Normal visitors have a crier to announce who they are.”
Seumas looked at the two girls and said, “Wait here.” He ran toward the settlement walls. Though he was not particularly fast, he moved more quickly than Alastriona or Eithne.
Alastriona watched until he was out of sight, then slowly began pulling herself up from the ground. Once upright, she straightened her clothing and adjusted her grip on her walking stick.
While Alastriona regained her feet and her dignity, Eithne moved around to the other children, crouching near each one in turn. “They’re all alive, but I don’t think they can move.”
Alastriona recalled the words that had been spoken. “They’ve been struck weak. They believed themselves strong, so they’ve been weakened and...oh no, shackled.”
“Then they won’t have been the only ones,” Eithne said, glancing nervously toward the settlement. “If the magic penetrated the walls, there won’t be a person left standing. We are the strong.”
Alastriona choked back a sob at Eithne’s final words. “We are the strong” was the motto of her family and thus the settlement. She had never identified with the words, being as weak as she was. But nearly everyone else who lived there took the words to heart.
Eithne was small for her age, a girl who had not yet grown to her potential strength. Seumas considered himself a teller of tales; his strength lay in that area, much like Alastriona’s strength lay in her mind and will. They had not been struck down because they did not possess the type of strength the settlement favored.
“There might be babies, small children, who don’t understand the motto. Perhaps a few of the aged and infirm who are past their prime,” Alastriona said. She looked in the direction where Seumas had run and spotted him returning, moving more slowly than he had when he left.
He was gasping when he reached them, but still managed to speak in between breaths. “Woman in black. In the settlement. Don’t know her. Everyone’s on the ground.”
“Magic, then? Not faeries?” Eithne asked.
Alastriona nodded. “It must be. Are the gates still open?”
“They were closing,” Seumas said. His face was still flushed bright pink, but his breathing was less labored now.
Alastriona turned her attention to Eithne. “Eithne, you’re small and quiet. Do you think you can sneak back into the settlement and see what’s going on?”
“By myself?” Eithne asked, her voice trembling.
Alastriona considered the options, but before she spoke, Seumas said, “I’m the opposite of quiet. I should stay with the Princess.”
Eithne nodded at him, then at Alastriona. “Then you and Seumas should wait near the walls. In case anything happens and I need your help.”
“What good—” Alastriona began.
“Good idea, Eithne,” Seumas said. “We’ll come with you to the wall.”
Alastriona walked slowly, letting the other children get ahead of her. Seumas kept interrupting her, and now he hadn’t let her voice her concerns. Her temper was rising, try as she might to keep herself calm.
Seumas stood a few paces ahead of her, having allowed Eithne to get ahead of him. “Would you like some help?”
“What kind of help can you give me?” she replied, anger seeping into her words.
Seumas frowned. “Have I done something to offend you, Princess?”
“I don’t know what help either of us will be if Eithne gets into trouble inside the settlement. I can’t keep up, and you don’t really know how to fight, do you?”
He shook his head. “I understand the theory, but I’m not practiced. But that’s not the point. If we’re out in the middle of the field, we’re a target. If we’re close to the walls, we can hide more easily. And perhaps she’ll need us for something other than fighting.”
“If there’s a witch inside, what else would there be to do other than fight?” Alastriona asked.
Seumas’s face grew pale. “You’d fight a witch? You’re very brave, Princess.”
“There are ways of fighting that don’t involve blades and bows, Seumas.” Alastriona shook her head, her temper bubbling to the surface. “You know the tales. Do you ever listen, or do you just memorize them so you can recite them to grand applause?”
Seumas began to open his mouth, then closed it. He remained silent the remainder of the way to the settlement walls. Just when Alastriona was certain she’d overstepped the bounds of politeness, Seumas spoke again. “You’re right, Princess. There are plenty of ways to fight. I’ve just never learned anything other than blades and bows and fists.” He paused. “The tales say the best way to fight a witch is to trick her.”
A smile crept onto Alastriona’s face, cooling her anger like a spring rain. “Trickery? That might just be the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Seumas.”
>
~*~
Eithne returned to Alastriona and Seumas after a long while, her face as white as the clouds. “It’s Gormflaith.”
Princess Alastriona felt like she was falling. Of all the possible witches who might have made an attack on the settlement, Gormflaith was the absolute worst. It was said she was distant kin to the previous king, and she had sworn revenge against Alastriona’s family on their ascension to power. In her mind, she was the rightful heir, regardless of her personal skillset. But the other noble families had opted for a shift in leadership, a new family in power, rather than maintaining the previous line of succession.
“She’ll be after the crown and the scrolls,” Seumas said.
“Scrolls?” Alastriona asked. “What scrolls?”
Seumas’s eyes grew wide. “The ones with spells to ensure the loyalty of her servitors, no doubt.”
“Servitors?” Alastriona asked, her voice low.
“The people of the settlement,” Seamus said.
“It’s the only way she can ensure their loyalty,” Eithne added.
“The crown will be in your family’s chambers, yes?” Seamus asked.
Alastriona nodded. The crown was largely ceremonial, and her father kept it tucked away in a box within a cabinet with many drawers most of the time.
“And the scrolls will be in the library, won’t they?” Seumas asked.
Eithne shook her head vigorously. “That’s where you’d think to look for them, so they aren’t there. There’s a cave, outside of the settlement.”
Alastriona nodded. “They’re safer there.” She considered their options. They could retreat to the cave and guard the scrolls there. But if they did so, who knew what sort of destruction the witch would wreak upon her people. Already, Gormflaith had crippled the settlement. Magic worked in ways that defied reality, but people still needed to eat and drink. Gormflaith might leave the inhabitants frozen until they died of thirst if she couldn’t find what she wanted.
If Gormflaith believed the scrolls to be in the library, she’d likely go there first. If the three of them could come up with a way to trick the witch, they could put it into action it in the library.
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