There were several factors that were working against me at once. I was in a strange place completely surrounded by men. At least one of them had recognized me as a female; I did not know how the others would react. I was still processing that my mother was dead and that I had buried her myself.

And then…

My new commander's breath was a distraction all its own. I had listened to him strip away all his armor while I pretended to be asleep. He blew out the candle and the cot creaked lightly as he lay down. I listened to his breath change and began to wish I was nearer to him—God only knows why. Silent tears spilled down my cheeks. Was this to be my curse? Would I always want to be near such a beastly and ruthless man? There were several things running through my mind at once. I was shivering, though from fear, stress, or cold, I did not know. Maybe I just wanted to share in his warmth.

Now that I was sure he was asleep, I rolled over to look at him. I blinked past the blurriness in my eyes. It was nearly pitch black in here, but there was just enough light to see him.

He did not look so fierce in sleep. His mouth was slightly open, but I couldn't see the filed down points of his teeth. He looked several years younger and I wondered if the war had aged him. I imagined his strong arms around me again just as they had been when we rode up to camp. It wasn't so hard to sleep then…I felt myself drift off.

After what seemed like only seconds, I felt someone shaking me roughly. I groaned and tried to move away from the intruding hands.

"If you value your life, you will get up right now," the voice said firmly in my ear. Adrenaline shot through my veins and I sat up, heart pounding.

"Good, you're awake. Come."

Puzzled, I looked around. It wasn't even dawn yet.

"You have to be joking," I protested.

I yelped when his big hands seized me and pulled me onto my feet.

"All right, all right!" I whimpered, seeing that he was dead serious and getting impatient. I stuffed my feet into my boots and smoothed my clothes out.

I had been under the impression that my job was to take care of the horse. I didn't realize that I would be taking care of the horse in addition to several other things. As I gathered firewood and water, Luthias was dragging the others out of bed. We were going to move out today, apparently. I was in the middle of making breakfast when someone seized me from behind. Drunken breath soured my nose and I turned my head away.

"Pretty…almost like a girl…" the voice teased. Out of instinct, I elbowed my assailant in the gut.

"Let me go!" I snarled, almost forgetting my accent in my irritation. The man grunted and his friends laughed. He wrapped both arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides.

My sausage is burning, dammit… I thought, trying to squirm my way out of his arms.

My attacker whispered something in German. I didn't understand at first, but I felt his hand inching towards my nether regions. Terrified, my teeth snapped into one hand as one leg jerkily kicked at his shin. He was forced to drop me but he wasn't giving up. A flash of movement caught the corner of my eye. Heinrich leapt over me and slammed his fist into the other man's jaw. The others were enjoying the scene.

"Es reicht!" (Enough!)

We froze. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Luthias. I was still trying to peel the drunk soldier off of Heinrich. Heinrich was getting absolutely pummeled under the other man's beefy fists. Luthias seized both of them by the back of their shirts and yanked them apart. Heinrich rolled away, submitting to the will of his leader. The drunken man, however, was actually stupid enough to laugh at Luthias.

Oh no…

Luthias leaned in closer. I would later learn he did it to smell one's breath to see if they were drunk—he could tell down to the last drop how much someone had drank. The laughing man was finally registering he'd made a big mistake.

"I will not tolerate drunkenness," Luthias snapped, "it is hard enough to fight a war when sober. This is your last chance, Albrecht."

Albrecht started to walk away, but Luthias snatched him back.

"Where do you think you are going? There is still your punishment."

He turned to the others.

"Do it."

I didn't know what they were talking about, so I helped Heinrich out of the snow. Blood spurted from both nostrils. I busied myself with cleaning him up as the other soldiers dragged Heinrich to the other edge of the camp. Luthias disappeared with him. The sick sound of a whip striking a back made my stomach turn. By some miracle, breakfast didn't come out charred.

"I hate Albrecht," Heinrich spat, "he's given me Hell from the first moment I met him."

"That was close," I agreed.

An awkward silence passed between us.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"Just promise me that one day you'll kick him in the…"

"Heinrich!"

"…face."

We shared a much needed laugh, which temporarily silenced Albrecht's pained screaming.

"Packen Sie Ihre Dinge," (Pack up your things) Luthias called to the others. Not wanting their commander displeased a second time today, they all scrambled. When I caught sight of Albrecht, I saw why.

His face was bruised up badly. Blood came from a small cut in his lip and from one nostril. He carried his shirt in one hand and seemed to be struggling to walk. His entire upper body was covered in lash marks that oozed blood. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he walked. He didn't dare look at Heinrich or I.

Luthias didn't say a word to either one of us, so it seemed we had escaped trouble for the moment. Some of the other soldiers didn't seem very fond of us. They ate their breakfasts in silence before taking down the tents. We were ready before the morning mist had yet faded.

I was told to ride a jumpy white gelding. I didn't protest, but the horse took some getting used to. He shied at every sound imaginable and I was wondering if he always quivered like this. Sometimes he would venture too close to Daredevil only to get nipped.

We traveled all day before finally arriving at nightfall. The British were close by; I could smell their fire and see the column of smoke rising. One of the British commanders was waiting for Luthias by the road.

"Commander Luthias Brandt, I presume?" the man called.

"Ja," Luthias said stiffly.

"I am Commander Nathaniel Higgins. We've been expecting you."

They shook hands, but the British soldier seemed to flinch visibly. Maybe Luthias's grip had been harder than necessary.

I lost track of what they were saying. I'm not sure what made me notice, but I did.

"Uh, sir…" I stuttered uneasily. Luthias kept talking. I leaned over my horse's neck and tapped him firmly. He looked up at me with those icy eyes and I knew I had about ten seconds to get out an explanation.

"They aren't invited to join us, are they?" I asked lamely.

Luthias and Nathaniel looked simultaneously. A wall of soldiers was emerging and they didn't look familiar at all. Luthias issued a stream of commands so quickly that I didn't have time to register what he had said. Everyone surged forward at once. I was confused beyond belief.

"YAH!" Luthias yelled to his horse, urging him forward. Musket fire was exchanged on both sides. I saw a few of our men drop and a few of the other side's drop as well. Heinrich yelped when a bullet grazed his shoulder. I was about ten seconds from leaving a puddle in my saddle when I was knocked out of it.

Stunned, I sat up. A sharp pain in my shoulder told me I'd probably been hit with something. One of the Americans was aiming his pistol straight at me when Luthias got there first. The sharp singing of his sword followed by a sickening thump told me I didn't have to worry about it any longer. I gave him a grateful smile, but he seemed too busy to notice.

"Luthias! Behind you!" I yelped, trying to get myself upright. Luthias whipped around and sliced through the man about to attack him. Blood stained the snow.

Another soldier came straight towards me, but I didn't have anyone to magically save me this time.

Remember what he taught you…I pressed my frightened brain. My hand went to the hilt of my sword almost automatically. I felt the coldness of the hilt in my hand. I felt the breeze on my arm as I swung. The feeling of the sword slicing through flesh was absolutely sickening. I watched in horror as the man's head nearly separated from his body, held on by half an inch or so of sinew. My field of vision flooded white and I think I fainted for a few seconds. The feeling of someone picking me up helped to pull me back to the edge of reality for the moment. The sounds of battle were waning rapidly. I recognized the feel of the leather armor against my face.

For a moment, I was not a soldier. I was a little girl again enjoying the safety of a man's arms. My face became buried in his chest for just a moment; I didn't care if the others saw.

I was vaguely aware of being lifted out of his arms for a moment, then being taken somewhere else. My vision was grayish-tinted and dim. My shoulder felt like it was on fire. There was also an awful pain in my gut. I let out a pained cry when the hands lay me down on the cot.

"Quiet," the firm voice snapped.

"Luthias…" I groaned, "what's wrong with me?"

I felt him pull my shirt loose. There was a sharp pain as the bullet was yanked out of my shoulder. I was trying to keep my mouth closed, but I was pretty sure that I screamed anyway. Another pair of hands cleaned and sewed the wound shut. I saw someone carry away bloody cloths and I wondered if it was my blood. It felt as though I was numb to everything but the searing pain.

"You were stabbed," his voice said in my ear, "and shot. You lost too much blood."

I shuddered involuntarily.

"Does that mean I'm dying?"

I felt him hesitate for a split second.

"No."

The unspoken not yet was left hanging in the air. Then I passed out.

(Luthias's POV)

She shuddered and went limp. For a moment, I regretted bringing her here. I had expected her to be much more trained when she met battle. I had been careless to think that there wouldn't be an ambush at one point or another.

Regret was a new emotion to me. I rarely allowed myself to regret anything. I was very skilled at reasoning my way out of guilt. I told myself that there was no such thing as true innocence and that it did not matter whose life I had stolen or whose blood I spilled. The young girl laying on the stretcher in front of me made me feel uneasy. I still held the bloody bullet in the palm of my hand. It seemed unusually hot.

Heinrich, the young boy who had become her friend, looked up at me with big eyes. I had heard him taunting her at first and was amazed that she so quickly forgave him.

"She will be all right, won't she?"

His voice pleaded with me to reassure him. In that moment, I saw a child and not a soldier.

"If she does not get an infection," I told him, "I have seen worse than this."

He breathed a small sigh of hope and gently touched her face.

"I don't mean to question you, sir, I really don't, but I'm just terribly curious. Why did you bring Adal to us? She's so….what's the word I'm looking for? It's just that something terrible could happen."

I made the last stitch in her stomach and clipped the thread loose.

"I do not believe in weakness," I said simply, "and she does not, either. She may cry. She may be in pain, but she would not give up. I saw her just hours after her mother died and she was alone. She was not afraid of me. She did not badger me with useless questions. It was a matter of survival and she was willing to do it. She could have run away. She could have protested much more."

Heinrich gently lifted her back while I bandaged up the wound.

"She is much stronger than most of these men," I told him, "she just has not learned to move out of the way yet."

I felt, rather than heard, the chuckle escape.

"You like her," Heinrich commented.

"She amuses me," I admitted, "I saw her strike Albrecht. I let the fighting go on a little longer than I should have. I wanted to see what she would do."

"What's her real name?" Heinrich asked.

"Ruth," I answered.

Heinrich's eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the tent.

"I recognize that name," he said, "it is from the Bible. There is an entire book devoted to a woman named Ruth. It suits her well."

By now, Ruth was tucked in under a pile of blankets. It promised to be an extremely cold night and we didn't want to take any chances. I heard my horse whinny outside and I knew he was hungry.

"I'll stay with Ruth," Heinrich quickly volunteered. Shaking my head slightly, I left the tent. He was still afraid of the horse…almost everyone was. I wondered if Daredevil would understand it if I told him not to bite so much.