Disclaimer: No.
A/N: Another chapter! I wanted to tell you that I upped the rating, it's now PG-13. Just being incredibly safe, but in later chapters (wars and romancey stuff), it might be a tad more than PG. Now the Tamora Pierce- created characters come in! Yay for Kel, Neal, Merric, Owen, and Dom!
Anyhoo.
Chapter 9 - One Legged Battle
Keladry of Mindelan looked through the trees, her neck prickling as if something wasn't right. Inside the small roadhouse the men were playing cards and talking about women. Typical men things that Kel had never gotten used to. Particularly the talking about women part.
Kel was several months over nineteen, and a lady knight for about a year and a half. After New Hope had been rebuilt, in more ways than one, she's been sent away from her charges to patrol areas where the Scanrans would most likely next attack. Kel had light brown hair she wore a little past her shoulders and dreamer's hazel eyes framed by long lashes. Her mouth was set in a suspicious line as everything in her body hummed in warming. Something, somewhere was wrong. Someone was in trouble.
But the catch was that she didn't get the familiar tingle like she did when her friends were in trouble. This was an electric shock, cold as ice, running up and down her spine in a frenzied panic. She shivered involuntarily, and her eyes again strayed to the trees.
This was spidren country, mixed with a few killer centaur colonies. It was dangerous for anyone unskilled with a heavy weapon, or without proper battle training. Kel and her companions, Nealan or Neal of Queenscove, Merric of Hollyrose, Domitan or Dom of Masbolle, and Owen of Jesslaw, were all full knights or able soldiers. All friends from page and squire years, they lived somewhat harmoniously in the small roadhouse. Kel smiled evilly as she thought of the two small bedrooms. She got one all to herself, as she was a girl so she couldn't sleep in the same room as the boys, and they shared the bigger of the two rooms. However, they were prone to late-night rows in which one boy or two would come barging in at midnight or so and sleep on Kel's floor. Last night Owen had been the object of teasing as he had found a young lady to court, Rhiannon of Riversedge.
She smiled at her friends' antics. Would they ever grow up completely? She shook her head despite herself. No one, or no one who was a male, ever did.
"I think she's quite pretty actually." Came Merric's halting voice. Everyone yelled and there was the sound of upturned furniture, and laughing Kel went inside to see a chair overturned and Merric pinned to it by Dom, who was giving him a rough head rub.
"I give! Uncle! Ow!" Merric shouted. Dom and Owen laughed, and Neal deftly healed the knuckle burn on Merric's scalp. Kel snorted in disgust as she looked at the mess of food and general stuff spread around the roadhouse like butter on bread. The boys looked up at her, grinning madly. She got a little of a shock at Dom and Neal's twin grins, as they were cousins, and about the same age. Neal had started page duties late, when he was fifteen, and was now twenty-four.
"Clean this up, guys. You have a lady living with you." Kel teased, stepping over Merric gingerly and taking a drink from the water pail. As soon as her fingers touched the water, she heard it. Cackling. It was low and evil sounding, from a centaur possibly.
"Did you hear that?" Kel asked breathlessly. The boys stopped to listen, and this time with the cackle was a loud yell and a piercing whinny. Kel heard a definite female tone to the cry, and she looked outside the roadhouse door. There was a dim glow behind the trees. The centaur colonies had found a new captive.
*~*~*~*
Devon's eyes fluttered open, her pupils adjusting to the flickering light of the bonfire. Her leg throbbed strongly, as if reminding her that it was useless. Her kneecap was thrust out of her skin at a strange angle, and she winced as she sat up. Her hands were tied behind her back, a gag was in her mouth, and her legs were tied at the ankles. With intense eyes she looked around the camp. Two muscular male centaurs guarded her, and one huge stallion centaur stood at the fire. A few mares were beside him, their slender hands folded in respect.
All at once they were all in front of her, and she looked up at the stallion's muscular chest and wiry beard. His eyes were light gray, and filled with malice. He reached down and tilted her head up, and she growled deep in her throat. Without withdrawing his hand, he touched her shoulder, feeling hard, bunched muscles underneath her blouse. She narrowed her eyes again in warning, and there was a splintering of wood as Psyche galloped into view, half a hitching post tied around his neck. He knocked the stallion away fiercely and stood over Devon's body, ears laced back in fury.
"A feisty, strong female." The leader of the centaurs said scathingly, "A fine addition to our slave ranks." Psyche angrily stomped his feet, stirring up dust and ashes from the previous night's bonfire. The centaur mares drew back, their eyes afraid.
"Untie her. We'll see how long she survives." The centaur stallion hissed at the other stallion and at Devon, as the centaur guards took the gag from her teeth she spat curses at him, her eyes blazing gray. If these disgraces to centaurs wanted a fight, she would give them one, one legged and all.
She stood shakily, then lost her balance as her bad leg touched the ground and crumpled beneath her. There was a thud as she hit the ground, and the head centaur emitted a low cackle, evil and spine chilling. She stood again, using Psyche as support, and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, though the cloak itself was coated in mud, blood, and dried spidren saliva, and was torn on the side where the large spider's pincers had taken a shred at her ribcage. It didn't show her face, except her lightly pointed chin and mouth set in a stern line. A bronze layer of hair fell from under the hood as well to snake down over her front.
"If you want a proper fight, I want my sword." Devon snapped threateningly, though her balance wavered. Her gray eyes were hard and cold as ice in the mountain glaciers underneath her hood. If she was going to die, which she was fairly certain she would, she would go down swinging her sword at her attackers until her last breath. The guard nearest her tossed her the blade, and she grabbed the hilt, examining the iron to make sure it was the same sword. The weight felt familiar.
"Now, human." The centaur said silkily, and Devon expected a forked tongue to come out of his mouth as well as his words, "You have two minutes. Run as far as you can, and then we'll attack you."
"But." Devon began.
"Tsk tsk, your time is already running out." The centaur sneered, "Run."
Devon turned on her heel and jumped onto Psyche's back clumsily, sliding on as he galloped through the trees. Her limp leg banged uncomfortably against her stallion's side. Suddenly there was a dim light ahead of them.
"To the light, Psyche! Don't stop!" She cried amidst his pounding hooves and the sporting yells of the centaurs she was leaving behind, if only temporarily. Psyche surged forward and almost unseated Devon, who let out a yell. The two minutes were almost up.
*~*~*~*
Kel hadn't heard any noise from the woods in the past few moments, so she shook her head and continued to work at scrubbing her woolen breeches, trying to get the stains off of the knees from practicing falling.
Inside, Neal sat at the table, doing nothing. His eyes seemed not to see the water jug in front of him, but instead things from the past. For some reason or another, he felt dejected this particular night. His cousin Dom and Kel had been getting on, Owen had his own sweetheart, and even Merric had a girl he liked. But what did that leave him?
Neal seemed quickly in and out of crushes, but they were mere infatuations, and that was it. He could only dream about what Kel and Dom thought when they looked at each other. It was as if the room melted away and they were the only two in the world.
A few months ago he had thought he had a girl to share everything with, a Yamani lady-in-waiting named Yukimi, Yuki to him. She had been spunky, alive, and beautiful in everyone's eyes. But she had heard that her previous lover from the Islands had returned home after being thought dead, and she left on the soonest boat to meet him, leaving Neal behind.
"Ugh, why me?" He asked no one in particular. "Is this punishment for all my poetry?" He looked up at the ceiling and said irritably, "If you have anything to say don't say it to my face please." There was a laugh from the stairs, and Dom came down, shaking his head.
"Conversing with the gods again, Meathead?" His blue eyes were laughing.
"Sir Meathead, and I'm not in the mood right now, Dom." Neal said in annoyance. Dom look positively shocked.
"Not in the mood for cynicism? Are you feeling well?" He asked, half serious. Neal stood up and stalked outside to find Kel coming in with washed breeches. She smiled at him and went inside, and within seconds there was soft laughter. Neal scowled and leaned against the porch of the roadhouse. If only.he wished.
"Time's up, milady!"
Without warning a stallion thundered out of the trees, a magnificent liver chestnut. His mane was white against his nearly black coat, and his white blaze and four white stockings glowed in the darkness. He reared as a crossbow dart whizzed by him and a black heap fell from his back, then immediately drew a sword, solid iron glinting in the dim light.
"Psyche, come here, I need your support." The figure said, waving towards the horse. It was a girl's voice. There was a crash and a gray centaur stallion leaped out of the bushes followed by two spidren. His eyes glinted maliciously as he stared long and hard at her, clinging to her horse's mane like she couldn't let go. The girl turned towards them, but nearly fell over as her horse moved.
"The game's over." The centaur hissed through his teeth.
"Not yet." She retorted, but as the stallion started at the lunging centaur, she crumpled to the ground, disarmed for the moment.
"Psyche, no! Come back here!" She cried desperately, reaching her hand out at her mount as he moved away. The stallion was held at bay by the centaur as the two spidren advanced on her kneeling figure. She held out her sword and they stopped. With an effort, she struggled to stand. What was wrong with her? Neal thought.
"I won't go down without a fight!" She yelled with all her voice, and sloppily lunged at the spidrens, slicing off one of the arms, leaving an axe to fall to the floor. Suddenly she was in motion, her jaw set. She spun, blade held out, slicing cut after cut in the wounded spidren's side. He shrieked and lunged, but she dodged carefully and nicked his head off like it was all in a day's work.
Neal stood up quickly and grabbed his sword from the tabletop, running outside just in time to block a strong strike from the spidren. There was a whinny and the liver chestnut kicked at the centaur, breaking his neck cleanly. Then he leaped over to the girl and she slid onto his back, not dodging fast enough to block a dagger strike to the shoulder. The knife went in to the hilt. With the spidren distracted, Neal skewered it on his sword, and looked at the girl, who was wavering in the saddle. He caught her as she fell and her hood settled over her face, her sword loosened in her hands.
Neal carried her inside, and the others weren't downstairs. Sweeping everything off the table with an arm, he laid her down on the hard wood. Beads of sweat trailed off her face and onto the small exposed part of her neck, her breathing was laborious and came in short bursts like she'd run a marathon.
"Kel, get down here!" Neal called urgently, looking over at the girl from the bottom of the stairs. She looked fit for a funeral in her black cloak, and that was exactly what was the problem. Neal couldn't heal anything unless he had somewhat direct touch with it, which allowed for a few layers of clothing, but not the huge, billowing layered cloak she was wrapped in.
Kel came down with her nightdress tucked into her breeches, her eyes wide and concerned.
"What is it, Neal?" She asked. He led her to the table and motioned meaningfully at the pitiful figure stretched across it, though she was so tall that parts of her draped over the edge of the wood.
"Where did you find her?" Kel asked, her voice nearly a whisper.
"She was battling two spidren and a centaur leader by herself. She was doing fine until her stallion bolted, then she couldn't stand for some reason." Neal explained, somewhat impatiently.
"Where's the stallion now?" Asked Kel. As if in answer, there was a whicker and the handsome liver chestnut trotted into the house, his coat spread over with mud, blood, and water. He nudged the girl on the table gently, ears pricked, eyes bright. At the peak of his withers, he had to be almost eighteen hands high.
"Psyche." She whispered through cracked lips. Kel nodded and carried the girl to her room.
She laid her on the bed and with a knife cut the cloak until she pulled it away to reveal a white blouse, shredded badly, covered in a black leather vest. Her black leather breeches were ripped at one hip, revealing parts of a huge, poisoned gash. Spidren pincer marks adorned her side and hip. She reached out to touch the lurid green poison and her fingers found a pocket in the girl's breeches with something in it. Kel withdrew a piece of damp parchment, grayish at the edges, and she unfolded it carefully.
With a gasp, she dropped it.
Don don da! An almost cliffie! Hurray for me!
Questions? Comments? Review and I'll answer!
Flames? Call 1-800-I-Don't-Give-A-Rat's-Arse!
Nazzy Nazzy Nazgirl
A/N: Another chapter! I wanted to tell you that I upped the rating, it's now PG-13. Just being incredibly safe, but in later chapters (wars and romancey stuff), it might be a tad more than PG. Now the Tamora Pierce- created characters come in! Yay for Kel, Neal, Merric, Owen, and Dom!
Anyhoo.
Chapter 9 - One Legged Battle
Keladry of Mindelan looked through the trees, her neck prickling as if something wasn't right. Inside the small roadhouse the men were playing cards and talking about women. Typical men things that Kel had never gotten used to. Particularly the talking about women part.
Kel was several months over nineteen, and a lady knight for about a year and a half. After New Hope had been rebuilt, in more ways than one, she's been sent away from her charges to patrol areas where the Scanrans would most likely next attack. Kel had light brown hair she wore a little past her shoulders and dreamer's hazel eyes framed by long lashes. Her mouth was set in a suspicious line as everything in her body hummed in warming. Something, somewhere was wrong. Someone was in trouble.
But the catch was that she didn't get the familiar tingle like she did when her friends were in trouble. This was an electric shock, cold as ice, running up and down her spine in a frenzied panic. She shivered involuntarily, and her eyes again strayed to the trees.
This was spidren country, mixed with a few killer centaur colonies. It was dangerous for anyone unskilled with a heavy weapon, or without proper battle training. Kel and her companions, Nealan or Neal of Queenscove, Merric of Hollyrose, Domitan or Dom of Masbolle, and Owen of Jesslaw, were all full knights or able soldiers. All friends from page and squire years, they lived somewhat harmoniously in the small roadhouse. Kel smiled evilly as she thought of the two small bedrooms. She got one all to herself, as she was a girl so she couldn't sleep in the same room as the boys, and they shared the bigger of the two rooms. However, they were prone to late-night rows in which one boy or two would come barging in at midnight or so and sleep on Kel's floor. Last night Owen had been the object of teasing as he had found a young lady to court, Rhiannon of Riversedge.
She smiled at her friends' antics. Would they ever grow up completely? She shook her head despite herself. No one, or no one who was a male, ever did.
"I think she's quite pretty actually." Came Merric's halting voice. Everyone yelled and there was the sound of upturned furniture, and laughing Kel went inside to see a chair overturned and Merric pinned to it by Dom, who was giving him a rough head rub.
"I give! Uncle! Ow!" Merric shouted. Dom and Owen laughed, and Neal deftly healed the knuckle burn on Merric's scalp. Kel snorted in disgust as she looked at the mess of food and general stuff spread around the roadhouse like butter on bread. The boys looked up at her, grinning madly. She got a little of a shock at Dom and Neal's twin grins, as they were cousins, and about the same age. Neal had started page duties late, when he was fifteen, and was now twenty-four.
"Clean this up, guys. You have a lady living with you." Kel teased, stepping over Merric gingerly and taking a drink from the water pail. As soon as her fingers touched the water, she heard it. Cackling. It was low and evil sounding, from a centaur possibly.
"Did you hear that?" Kel asked breathlessly. The boys stopped to listen, and this time with the cackle was a loud yell and a piercing whinny. Kel heard a definite female tone to the cry, and she looked outside the roadhouse door. There was a dim glow behind the trees. The centaur colonies had found a new captive.
*~*~*~*
Devon's eyes fluttered open, her pupils adjusting to the flickering light of the bonfire. Her leg throbbed strongly, as if reminding her that it was useless. Her kneecap was thrust out of her skin at a strange angle, and she winced as she sat up. Her hands were tied behind her back, a gag was in her mouth, and her legs were tied at the ankles. With intense eyes she looked around the camp. Two muscular male centaurs guarded her, and one huge stallion centaur stood at the fire. A few mares were beside him, their slender hands folded in respect.
All at once they were all in front of her, and she looked up at the stallion's muscular chest and wiry beard. His eyes were light gray, and filled with malice. He reached down and tilted her head up, and she growled deep in her throat. Without withdrawing his hand, he touched her shoulder, feeling hard, bunched muscles underneath her blouse. She narrowed her eyes again in warning, and there was a splintering of wood as Psyche galloped into view, half a hitching post tied around his neck. He knocked the stallion away fiercely and stood over Devon's body, ears laced back in fury.
"A feisty, strong female." The leader of the centaurs said scathingly, "A fine addition to our slave ranks." Psyche angrily stomped his feet, stirring up dust and ashes from the previous night's bonfire. The centaur mares drew back, their eyes afraid.
"Untie her. We'll see how long she survives." The centaur stallion hissed at the other stallion and at Devon, as the centaur guards took the gag from her teeth she spat curses at him, her eyes blazing gray. If these disgraces to centaurs wanted a fight, she would give them one, one legged and all.
She stood shakily, then lost her balance as her bad leg touched the ground and crumpled beneath her. There was a thud as she hit the ground, and the head centaur emitted a low cackle, evil and spine chilling. She stood again, using Psyche as support, and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, though the cloak itself was coated in mud, blood, and dried spidren saliva, and was torn on the side where the large spider's pincers had taken a shred at her ribcage. It didn't show her face, except her lightly pointed chin and mouth set in a stern line. A bronze layer of hair fell from under the hood as well to snake down over her front.
"If you want a proper fight, I want my sword." Devon snapped threateningly, though her balance wavered. Her gray eyes were hard and cold as ice in the mountain glaciers underneath her hood. If she was going to die, which she was fairly certain she would, she would go down swinging her sword at her attackers until her last breath. The guard nearest her tossed her the blade, and she grabbed the hilt, examining the iron to make sure it was the same sword. The weight felt familiar.
"Now, human." The centaur said silkily, and Devon expected a forked tongue to come out of his mouth as well as his words, "You have two minutes. Run as far as you can, and then we'll attack you."
"But." Devon began.
"Tsk tsk, your time is already running out." The centaur sneered, "Run."
Devon turned on her heel and jumped onto Psyche's back clumsily, sliding on as he galloped through the trees. Her limp leg banged uncomfortably against her stallion's side. Suddenly there was a dim light ahead of them.
"To the light, Psyche! Don't stop!" She cried amidst his pounding hooves and the sporting yells of the centaurs she was leaving behind, if only temporarily. Psyche surged forward and almost unseated Devon, who let out a yell. The two minutes were almost up.
*~*~*~*
Kel hadn't heard any noise from the woods in the past few moments, so she shook her head and continued to work at scrubbing her woolen breeches, trying to get the stains off of the knees from practicing falling.
Inside, Neal sat at the table, doing nothing. His eyes seemed not to see the water jug in front of him, but instead things from the past. For some reason or another, he felt dejected this particular night. His cousin Dom and Kel had been getting on, Owen had his own sweetheart, and even Merric had a girl he liked. But what did that leave him?
Neal seemed quickly in and out of crushes, but they were mere infatuations, and that was it. He could only dream about what Kel and Dom thought when they looked at each other. It was as if the room melted away and they were the only two in the world.
A few months ago he had thought he had a girl to share everything with, a Yamani lady-in-waiting named Yukimi, Yuki to him. She had been spunky, alive, and beautiful in everyone's eyes. But she had heard that her previous lover from the Islands had returned home after being thought dead, and she left on the soonest boat to meet him, leaving Neal behind.
"Ugh, why me?" He asked no one in particular. "Is this punishment for all my poetry?" He looked up at the ceiling and said irritably, "If you have anything to say don't say it to my face please." There was a laugh from the stairs, and Dom came down, shaking his head.
"Conversing with the gods again, Meathead?" His blue eyes were laughing.
"Sir Meathead, and I'm not in the mood right now, Dom." Neal said in annoyance. Dom look positively shocked.
"Not in the mood for cynicism? Are you feeling well?" He asked, half serious. Neal stood up and stalked outside to find Kel coming in with washed breeches. She smiled at him and went inside, and within seconds there was soft laughter. Neal scowled and leaned against the porch of the roadhouse. If only.he wished.
"Time's up, milady!"
Without warning a stallion thundered out of the trees, a magnificent liver chestnut. His mane was white against his nearly black coat, and his white blaze and four white stockings glowed in the darkness. He reared as a crossbow dart whizzed by him and a black heap fell from his back, then immediately drew a sword, solid iron glinting in the dim light.
"Psyche, come here, I need your support." The figure said, waving towards the horse. It was a girl's voice. There was a crash and a gray centaur stallion leaped out of the bushes followed by two spidren. His eyes glinted maliciously as he stared long and hard at her, clinging to her horse's mane like she couldn't let go. The girl turned towards them, but nearly fell over as her horse moved.
"The game's over." The centaur hissed through his teeth.
"Not yet." She retorted, but as the stallion started at the lunging centaur, she crumpled to the ground, disarmed for the moment.
"Psyche, no! Come back here!" She cried desperately, reaching her hand out at her mount as he moved away. The stallion was held at bay by the centaur as the two spidren advanced on her kneeling figure. She held out her sword and they stopped. With an effort, she struggled to stand. What was wrong with her? Neal thought.
"I won't go down without a fight!" She yelled with all her voice, and sloppily lunged at the spidrens, slicing off one of the arms, leaving an axe to fall to the floor. Suddenly she was in motion, her jaw set. She spun, blade held out, slicing cut after cut in the wounded spidren's side. He shrieked and lunged, but she dodged carefully and nicked his head off like it was all in a day's work.
Neal stood up quickly and grabbed his sword from the tabletop, running outside just in time to block a strong strike from the spidren. There was a whinny and the liver chestnut kicked at the centaur, breaking his neck cleanly. Then he leaped over to the girl and she slid onto his back, not dodging fast enough to block a dagger strike to the shoulder. The knife went in to the hilt. With the spidren distracted, Neal skewered it on his sword, and looked at the girl, who was wavering in the saddle. He caught her as she fell and her hood settled over her face, her sword loosened in her hands.
Neal carried her inside, and the others weren't downstairs. Sweeping everything off the table with an arm, he laid her down on the hard wood. Beads of sweat trailed off her face and onto the small exposed part of her neck, her breathing was laborious and came in short bursts like she'd run a marathon.
"Kel, get down here!" Neal called urgently, looking over at the girl from the bottom of the stairs. She looked fit for a funeral in her black cloak, and that was exactly what was the problem. Neal couldn't heal anything unless he had somewhat direct touch with it, which allowed for a few layers of clothing, but not the huge, billowing layered cloak she was wrapped in.
Kel came down with her nightdress tucked into her breeches, her eyes wide and concerned.
"What is it, Neal?" She asked. He led her to the table and motioned meaningfully at the pitiful figure stretched across it, though she was so tall that parts of her draped over the edge of the wood.
"Where did you find her?" Kel asked, her voice nearly a whisper.
"She was battling two spidren and a centaur leader by herself. She was doing fine until her stallion bolted, then she couldn't stand for some reason." Neal explained, somewhat impatiently.
"Where's the stallion now?" Asked Kel. As if in answer, there was a whicker and the handsome liver chestnut trotted into the house, his coat spread over with mud, blood, and water. He nudged the girl on the table gently, ears pricked, eyes bright. At the peak of his withers, he had to be almost eighteen hands high.
"Psyche." She whispered through cracked lips. Kel nodded and carried the girl to her room.
She laid her on the bed and with a knife cut the cloak until she pulled it away to reveal a white blouse, shredded badly, covered in a black leather vest. Her black leather breeches were ripped at one hip, revealing parts of a huge, poisoned gash. Spidren pincer marks adorned her side and hip. She reached out to touch the lurid green poison and her fingers found a pocket in the girl's breeches with something in it. Kel withdrew a piece of damp parchment, grayish at the edges, and she unfolded it carefully.
With a gasp, she dropped it.
Don don da! An almost cliffie! Hurray for me!
Questions? Comments? Review and I'll answer!
Flames? Call 1-800-I-Don't-Give-A-Rat's-Arse!
Nazzy Nazzy Nazgirl
