Sally Po, head of the Sanc Kingdom's Royal Guard, turned her brown stallion, blanketed ordinarily for protection from thieves or assassins, to a small clearing where a cool crystalline stream bubbled peacefully. She was lucky to have stopped at that inn for the night, because they had told her of this lovely spot to rest at noon when the sun was hottest. She dismounted and led the beautiful creature to the water, where he drank calmly, and took off her hat, laying back and pushing honey-brown hair away to feel cool grass against her hot neck.
"Who are you?" someone asked, and Sally whirled in surprise to find a young Chinese man leaning up against a gnarled tree trunk, gazing at the intruder through slitted dark eyes. Sally inconspicuously felt for the dagger in her waistband just in case he was dangerous and found that it was readily accessible, but did not draw it, preferring to wait and see if he was.
"I might ask the same thing," Sally replied, her pale blue eyes wary.
His face softened only the slightest bit as he shrugged. "You can call me Wufei. What are you doing here?"
"Sally," she said curtly, and answered, "The innkeeper in the last town told me about this spot, because I helped her daughter." She didn't bother to mention that she had saved the little girl from falling into a well. It didn't seem necessary.
The young man nodded, accepting the story, "You're a traveler." He observed, "That would explain why you have a knife that you're thinking about pulling.
Seeing her shock, he laughed, and moved beside the stream, only a few feet from her, watching her horse drink, but still aware of her presence. "One should be cautious on the road. But you need not fear me . . . unless I give you reason to fear." Wufei slid her a dark-eyed glance. "In any case, I would give plenty of warning if it were so. It would not be honorable to take on a defenseless woman."
Sally bristled. "I am probably a better fighter than you would think."
The young man startled her by bursting out laughing. It irked her, but at the same time she had to note how beautiful he looked when laughing. "You," he gasped, giving her a derisive head-to-toe, "are but a woman. You were born to make babies and take care of your sniveling weak husband. That a /woman/ would be as good a fighter as myself is laughable." He smiled, charmingly, but with a hint of chill behind it, to show just how "laughable" it was. "Women are weak."
Sally was angry now. How dare this sniveling, snot-nosed BRAT say that kind of thing! She was chosen /specifically/ by Queen Lucrezia to be the head of her royal guard. Not only were they best friends, but Sally could kick butt better than anyone else on the force, minus perhaps King Miliardo's brother-in-law, Prince Heero. "Care to prove those words?" she asked dangerously. Her men knew her when she was in this mood, when an upstart new guy dared test her, and the disbeliever usually ended up with a broken nose and his face in the dirt. She really considered herself kind to those boys . . .
But this guy pushed her buttons.
His eyebrows were arched elegantly, obviously not thinking much of the challenge, and Sally pushed her anger down, standing and switching into fight mode as she stood ready. The young man simply shrugged, smirking, and stood, standing instinctively in a battle position, falling into the stance as a trusting child would their mother's arms.
Sally lashed out with one foot, which was easily avoided. As she threw a punch, Wufei moved minimally and it grazed by his ear. He grinned and Sally became furious, losing her temper, and threw a kick at his legs, making him jump over it, before slamming a fist into his stomach and feeling it connect with a sickening sound. He fell to his back, before anger flashed in his eyes and he twisted lithely, wrapping his legs around her ankles and knocking her feet out from under her before rolling over and pinning her to the ground.
"Give up?" he whispered, face only inches from hers. With all she had done, he had blocked, never attacking, but when he had, it had completely taken her down.
Sally felt her eyes narrow and tried to kick him off, but his weight was on her and she couldn't move him. He put a hand to her throat gently, then pushed himself off her.
"I win," he said simply, "in a real fight you would be dead," and then looked at the sky, changing subjects abruptly, as if the fight had been no more than proof of a truth he had already known and had gotten boring. "Where are you going? I could give you directions."
"The castle," Sally told him coolly, dusting grass and leaves off her brown breeches, but still caught his surprised glance. "What?"
He only shook his head minimally and got that cool, emotionless look back again. "I know where it is. The main road will take you longer. I can lead you there the way I usually take."
"How do you know where it is?" she asked quizzically.
"I work for the king," he replied in a voice that provoked no more questions.
She mounted her horse hurriedly and followed where he had already started down a thin path, mounting and riding his own dark stallion bareback to lead her along a very scenic route. Sally noted how the loose white shirt he was wearing was jerked in the wind as he rode, showing off his slenderness quite well, then cursed herself in her mind, remembering what a chauvinistic, small-minded jerk he was.
"There are the main gates," he stopped and pointed, then turned to go in another direction.
"Wufei!" Sally called, and he looked back. "Next time I'll beat you!" He snorted and went on, amused, and she rode up to the main gate.
