hello everyone, here's chapter one of my first fic! Yay! The plot is kinda
weird at this point b/c the heralds and such are not yet involved, but it
will all make sense in later chapters. Enjoy! Oh, and id like a few reviews
if you don't mind. If you don't like it though, don't send me anything
nasty.
Capter One
"Faster, love, faster! We can outrun the likes of them, scum that they are!" Naeve shouted frantically at her horse. He was a giant of a horse, big and jet black. He was a trained warhorse as well. She had named him Thunder when she was seven. Now though, at fourteen, they were being chased. Thunder's sides were soaked with sweat, his eyes rolled, showing their whites. He was as frightened as Naeve herself. Fear was not something that Naeve was accustomed to, having the weapons prowess that she did. But in the face of ten armed men on her tail, out to get her, she was terrified.
"Damn!" another arrow whizzed a hairs breadth from her shoulder. She turned in her saddle, bow at the ready, an arrow nocked and drawn. She loosed, praying to whoever was listening that her arrow would find its proper mark. She heard a cry followed by a loud WUMPH, as her arrow hit and a riser fell from his horse.
"Nine more to go "Naeve muttered under her breath. Naeve's mind worked frantically, trying to grasp the situation she was in. She was lost, her horse injured, it was the middle of the night, and she was all alone. Their horses, fresher and in better shape than hers, would catch them soon. She knew that if she didn't loose them or find help quickly, she would have to stand and fight.
Naeve urged her horse to go faster, cursing the arrow in his shoulder and the bowman that put it there. She could hear the hoof beats of their horses, perilously close. She loosed another arrow, hitting the lead man's mount in the throat, sending it and it's rider to the ground. The horse behind him tripped on its fallen comrade and threw its rider as well.
"Seven more, just seven more" Naeve said to herself as a futile way to boost her confidence. It was no use. She had been successful in taking on seven armed men before, but the brief glimpse of these men she had gotten at the inn told her that she would not have a chance in defeating more than five. These men were all dressed in black with black cloaks and veils over their faces. They were well armed with a myriad of weapons. And all of them moved with the learned grace of trained, professional assassins. She could tell this quality quite easily because she had been an assassin since she was twelve, it had been her profession for the last two years.
She turned to loose another arrow. She missed the man she was aiming at, but hit the one beside him in the arm.
"Gods curse it!" She shouted to the dark trees as she bent low over the Thunder's back, trying to get more speed. The hoof beats were coming ever closer and Naeve knew that she had to do something, and soon. Thunder was slowing, she urged him to hold a steady speed, but to no avail. He was too exhausted. Naeve cursed. She had only five arrows left in her quiver, mounted on her saddle. She drew one, nocked it and aimed, and loosed it, trying to hit the horse of the man in the lead. She hit it square in the eye and it dropped the horse behind it, as before, tripped over it and screamed as it broke a leg. Naeve hated to do that to a horse and avoided it whenever possible, but now, she was desperate. She knew that she couldn't last much longer. They were right behind her now; she could hear the heavy breathing of their horses.
Pain! Fire lanced through her shoulder. Her eyes went dark for a moment and she swayed in the saddle. An arrow had gone clean through her right shoulder. She could see the arrow head dripping blood onto her saddle. With a grimace of pain, she took hold of the arrowhead and broke it off. She then reached behind her and pulled out the shaft of the arrow. That was a mistake. Pain lanced through her shoulder once again, and she felt a fresh flow of blood down her back, soaking her black shirt. She knew that now, her bow rendered useless, she would have to fight or die, or worse, be captured. She drew one of the two swords she kept on her back. It gleamed in the pale light shed from the sliver of moon in the sky, a deadly glow that many have as their last memory. She pulled Thunder up sharply and wheeled him around to face her pursuers, hoping that surprise would give her an edge. Her right shoulder hurt like fury, but she could use a sword with both hands. She lashed out expertly at the first rider with her sword, slashing him across the throat before he could bring up his sword to block the blow. She was sprayed with his blood as his horse carried him by. She then turned to face another attacker, only barely bring her sword up in time to parry a blow meant to cleave her in two. She pushed his sword aside and ran hers through his chest in a lighting quick motion, one of her teacher's favorites, and continued the movement of her withdrawal to block the passage of a large two-bladed axe towards her side.
Thunder whirled, as he was trained to do, and lashed out with hooves and teeth at the mounts of the attackers, despite his injury. He got a lucky kick on one of the mounts, breaking its knee and sending the rider down. Naeve was still battleing with the axe man when she heard Thunder scream and felt him shudder and fall as the rider on the ground's sword found his heart. She realized, as she hit the ground and rolled, that the man on the ground had stabbed Thunder from underneath. She had no time to mourn the loss of her closest and oldest friend, however. The man on the ground attacked her immediately with sword and dagger. She managed to parry the sword and dodge the dagger, but he and the other horsemen were too much to handle at once. She felt a sharp pain in her side as a sword bit into her. Not deep, she thought, but painful. She finally went down under all the attacks. She felt the men tying her feet together and tying her hands behind her back.. They did this roughly, with no regard to her wound, because of her struggles. A sharp rap on the head with the pommel of a dagger put an end to her struggles, however. An evil grin on the face of the lead rider was the last thing Naeve saw before the world went dark.
well, that's it for now folks! I know, I know, a cliffie for the first chapter. Im a mean person. Oh well. If you're nice and reviw my story, ill make the next chapter end better. Thanks for reading!
Capter One
"Faster, love, faster! We can outrun the likes of them, scum that they are!" Naeve shouted frantically at her horse. He was a giant of a horse, big and jet black. He was a trained warhorse as well. She had named him Thunder when she was seven. Now though, at fourteen, they were being chased. Thunder's sides were soaked with sweat, his eyes rolled, showing their whites. He was as frightened as Naeve herself. Fear was not something that Naeve was accustomed to, having the weapons prowess that she did. But in the face of ten armed men on her tail, out to get her, she was terrified.
"Damn!" another arrow whizzed a hairs breadth from her shoulder. She turned in her saddle, bow at the ready, an arrow nocked and drawn. She loosed, praying to whoever was listening that her arrow would find its proper mark. She heard a cry followed by a loud WUMPH, as her arrow hit and a riser fell from his horse.
"Nine more to go "Naeve muttered under her breath. Naeve's mind worked frantically, trying to grasp the situation she was in. She was lost, her horse injured, it was the middle of the night, and she was all alone. Their horses, fresher and in better shape than hers, would catch them soon. She knew that if she didn't loose them or find help quickly, she would have to stand and fight.
Naeve urged her horse to go faster, cursing the arrow in his shoulder and the bowman that put it there. She could hear the hoof beats of their horses, perilously close. She loosed another arrow, hitting the lead man's mount in the throat, sending it and it's rider to the ground. The horse behind him tripped on its fallen comrade and threw its rider as well.
"Seven more, just seven more" Naeve said to herself as a futile way to boost her confidence. It was no use. She had been successful in taking on seven armed men before, but the brief glimpse of these men she had gotten at the inn told her that she would not have a chance in defeating more than five. These men were all dressed in black with black cloaks and veils over their faces. They were well armed with a myriad of weapons. And all of them moved with the learned grace of trained, professional assassins. She could tell this quality quite easily because she had been an assassin since she was twelve, it had been her profession for the last two years.
She turned to loose another arrow. She missed the man she was aiming at, but hit the one beside him in the arm.
"Gods curse it!" She shouted to the dark trees as she bent low over the Thunder's back, trying to get more speed. The hoof beats were coming ever closer and Naeve knew that she had to do something, and soon. Thunder was slowing, she urged him to hold a steady speed, but to no avail. He was too exhausted. Naeve cursed. She had only five arrows left in her quiver, mounted on her saddle. She drew one, nocked it and aimed, and loosed it, trying to hit the horse of the man in the lead. She hit it square in the eye and it dropped the horse behind it, as before, tripped over it and screamed as it broke a leg. Naeve hated to do that to a horse and avoided it whenever possible, but now, she was desperate. She knew that she couldn't last much longer. They were right behind her now; she could hear the heavy breathing of their horses.
Pain! Fire lanced through her shoulder. Her eyes went dark for a moment and she swayed in the saddle. An arrow had gone clean through her right shoulder. She could see the arrow head dripping blood onto her saddle. With a grimace of pain, she took hold of the arrowhead and broke it off. She then reached behind her and pulled out the shaft of the arrow. That was a mistake. Pain lanced through her shoulder once again, and she felt a fresh flow of blood down her back, soaking her black shirt. She knew that now, her bow rendered useless, she would have to fight or die, or worse, be captured. She drew one of the two swords she kept on her back. It gleamed in the pale light shed from the sliver of moon in the sky, a deadly glow that many have as their last memory. She pulled Thunder up sharply and wheeled him around to face her pursuers, hoping that surprise would give her an edge. Her right shoulder hurt like fury, but she could use a sword with both hands. She lashed out expertly at the first rider with her sword, slashing him across the throat before he could bring up his sword to block the blow. She was sprayed with his blood as his horse carried him by. She then turned to face another attacker, only barely bring her sword up in time to parry a blow meant to cleave her in two. She pushed his sword aside and ran hers through his chest in a lighting quick motion, one of her teacher's favorites, and continued the movement of her withdrawal to block the passage of a large two-bladed axe towards her side.
Thunder whirled, as he was trained to do, and lashed out with hooves and teeth at the mounts of the attackers, despite his injury. He got a lucky kick on one of the mounts, breaking its knee and sending the rider down. Naeve was still battleing with the axe man when she heard Thunder scream and felt him shudder and fall as the rider on the ground's sword found his heart. She realized, as she hit the ground and rolled, that the man on the ground had stabbed Thunder from underneath. She had no time to mourn the loss of her closest and oldest friend, however. The man on the ground attacked her immediately with sword and dagger. She managed to parry the sword and dodge the dagger, but he and the other horsemen were too much to handle at once. She felt a sharp pain in her side as a sword bit into her. Not deep, she thought, but painful. She finally went down under all the attacks. She felt the men tying her feet together and tying her hands behind her back.. They did this roughly, with no regard to her wound, because of her struggles. A sharp rap on the head with the pommel of a dagger put an end to her struggles, however. An evil grin on the face of the lead rider was the last thing Naeve saw before the world went dark.
well, that's it for now folks! I know, I know, a cliffie for the first chapter. Im a mean person. Oh well. If you're nice and reviw my story, ill make the next chapter end better. Thanks for reading!