There he sat on his black steed, straight-backed and reeking of arrogance and hatred. Sudden clarity brushed the fear from Claire’s heart. One look at Leishmann and her anger overtook all else. She would make him bleed before the day’s end!
One by one the troops began passing along the rutted path. She patiently waited until the last soldiers passed by; feeling emboldened by how few there were. The villagers outnumbered the fifty or so men that followed Leishmann down the trail. Confident in their victory, she reached an arm out and flashed a yellow cloth.
The first startled cry came from a soldier as an arrow hit him in the back with a loud thwack! In an instant arrows rained down on Leishmann’s men. Though they hadn’t brought many people with bows, they had the advantage of a hunters’ skill. Men in the top of the trees released their fury in a rainbow of feathered glory.
Loud curses and pained cries erupted as many of the arrows found their mark and Leishmann’s men lay injured, or dying. Townsfolk exploded from forest, men and women stormed out to meet the enemy. Surrounded on all sides, the troop met the attack, jumping from their horses with swords in hand.
From every direction Claire heard the cries of the wounded. She did not know if it was Leishmann’s people that suffered or her own. She had no time to seek out the source of the cries. She had to keep moving forward. She had one person she knew she must reach and he was at the head of the fight.
A man rushed at her with his sword raised high. She ducked out of the way, swinging her sword hard as she moved. He could not react swiftly enough to the blur of her movements and the sword sliced his middle, sending him to the ground. She didn’t pause to see if he still lived as another had already taken his place.
No amount of training had prepared her for the chaos of emotions the battle was having on her. The horror of knowing she had just taken a life and the sensation of power the killing had given made her want to bolt or hide, but she could not abandon her people to death.
She tried to keep her mind clear; afraid to think about what she was doing. She cut down her attacker and moved to the edge of the fighting. From the corner of her eye she saw one of the villagers knocked to the ground, a soldier standing over her with his sword raised. Claire darted forward and stabbed him through the middle before he could bring it down.
Claire quickly bent to rip a piece of cloth from the woman’s skirt and encouraged her to cover a wound on the side of her face before returning to the fight. For the first time since the battle had begun Claire looked around her. It dawned on her that the villagers were actually winning!
She charged one of the soldiers from the rear just as he was gaining the advantage over an older gentleman- striking him down. By the time he hit the ground a cry of triumph had risen up around her. What few soldiers were left had dropped their swords and dropped to their knees. She trotted down the road, dodging corpses and wounded to track how far the battle had gone. She was grateful to find that it ended well out of view of the village. As the sounds of battle died behind her she drew up to Leishmann who still sat atop his horse, an amused smirk on his face.
“A pleasure seeing you here, My Dearest,” he purred.
“You have lost Leishmann, and now you will die.” His laughter echoed off the trees and down the street.
“I am not as foolish as you seem to believe,” he said simply, nodding towards the forest. Claire turned and a growing horror filled her. A wave of men began to emerge from the woods. The massive numbers spoke of hundreds of men moving in around her people. She realized with a heavy heart that they were outnumbered, at least twenty to one.
“I am quite surprised to see you after so long. You, Dearest, are a sight that soothes the ugliness these eyes have seen these past months.” He slid from his horse and moved to snatch the sword from her hand. She pulled back and lifted her sword to defy and even challenge him.
“Leishmann!” She spat, trying to ignore the growing cold of despair. She would fight to the death before allowing him dominion over her again.
“You won a small victory, but as you can see the battle is mine.” He raised a hand to gently brush a stray hair from her cheek. She smacked his hand away with her sword and felt a sense of joy as a streak of blood bloomed on his sun-browned skin. Anger flashed in his eyes, but his lips moved into a thinned, menacing smile.
“Seeing you has softened my heart and it is making me feel generous. May I suggest a trade? I’ll leave the village that lies just over that hill unharmed if you leave with me now.”
“May I suggest an alternative? You and I fight now, to the winner goes the victory. If I am able to spill your life blood, your army will release their arms and become mine to command. If you shed mine, you will have won your war.” Shock quickly crossed his features before another boisterous laugh echoed off the trees.
“You are a feisty one. I had almost forgotten.” He raised his hand to trace the three thin white scars that ran down his face; permanent marks she had given him over a year ago. His eyes lightened with merriment and something grim which she recognized as excitement. He was thinking of the joy he’d have punishing her for this defiance. He lifted his hand and loud screams rose up behind her, forcing her to turn. Five of his soldiers stood grinning and wiping fresh blood from their swords. Five villagers sank to the earth, cold death reflecting in their eyes.
“How many more, My Dear?” She felt his breath sting her neck and she realized he now stood directly behind her, waiting for her answer. She looked at the five men and her heart sank. She had been foolish to think Leishmann would allow her to fight him as an equal. The remaining villagers were now unarmed, slumped together in fright of knowing that even if Keith arrived with reinforcements, it would not be enough. They were outnumbered and outmatched, she hand only one choice. She turned to face Leishmann.
“I will surrender to you, but you will leave the village alone and you will never come here again. That‘s my deal. Take it or leave it!”
“Done! Come, My Dear.” He accepted her sword then turned and swung himself up on his horse. When he offered her his hand she turned away from him.
Claire moved to the closest woman and gave her a quick hug. “When we leave make sure you watch for betrayal on Leishmann’s end. Tell Keith not to follow, but to find Cal and Mark. They will need a good plan to get me out of this. Keep the children hidden! Try not to…” Her last hissed instruction was lost as a firm hand pulled her away then wrapped around her middle to lift her onto the horse in front of Leishmann.
Many villagers stepped forward to defend her, but Claire motioned for their retreat. “No, please, let him take me. It is the only way you will all be safe. Leishmann will give his word not to harm me.” She felt his arm tense around her and prayed he would go along with her fib.
“I have no desire to harm the Lass. She is to be family after all.” It was Claire’s turn to go rigid at his words. Angry murmurs followed Leishmann’s announcement, but with soldiers hovering with drawn swords there was nothing they could do.
“Weaklings,” Leishmann spat in disgust. “See how they show their love? The loyal lay down their lives for their master no matter the odds. They may leave in peace...but only the women.” With a slight jerk of his head, his soldiers drew in. Screams and chaos filled the air once more as the few women were ripped away and the men were slaughtered where they stood. Claire felt a wave of nausea and dizziness at the sight of her people falling to their deaths.
When all that remained were whimpering women, Leishmann kicked his horse so violently that it reared and bellowed. Women and soldiers both scrambled out of the way as Leishmann charged forward with Claire held tightly in his arms.
She looked over her shoulder to assure herself the men followed and did not remain to plague the people. To her relief they followed their master without hesitation. Relief filled her even as trepidation for what lay ahead invaded her mind. What had she done?
Aksara