Thanks to all my reviewers. Hope you enjoy. - Tomb Raider X


Chapter One

New Militia

At a Roman fortress in the north of Italy, a caravan rolled into the courtyard of the fortress, followed by three chestnut horses. A blonde girl, a red-haired girl, and a dark-blonde girl sat on the three horses.

"Is this where we're meant to present ourselves?" the red-haired girl asked.

The blonde girl nodded. "Yes. General Luaus said that we should locate Captain Butane, and that he would introduce us to our new leader."

The three girls dismounted and started asking around, eventually managing to find Captain Butane.

"You're the new militia?" Captain Butane said mockingly, as he looked them over.

They nodded, looking slightly confused.

"Oh well, I think I should take you to your new leader," he said, sighing.

"Before you go, girls," a Roman soldier piped up, "here's a tip. Don't say or do anything to overstep your bounds with your new commander, or you might not wake up the next morning."

The large group of soldiers started to laugh, leaving the three girls completely baffled. After some time, the soldiers stopped laughing, and Captain Butane led the girls away.

They walked through and down many streets, before coming to a halt outside a section of training grounds. Captain Butane conversed with a guard for a moment; then motioned for the girls to follow him into the training grounds.

He led them over to a stone bench. "Wait here," he said; then walked off.

The three girls sat down gratefully, and waited for Butane to return.

Suddenly, they heard a voice from behind them.

"So you're my new militia."

The three girls looked behind them, startled.

A figure, which stood in the shadows, was firing arrows at a target set up on one side of the grounds. The figure stood tall and erect, firing between two and four arrows at once into the target.

"Are you our new commander?" the dark blonde girl asked.

"I am," the figure replied curtly; then fired one last arrow into the target. The figure picked up the quiver of arrows, and strode towards them.

The figure stepped out of the shadows, and the three were astounded. Their commander was a woman. She stood there, looking them over, and cocked her head.

"I didn't expect you three to be quite so gaunt," she said.

Her voice and face were impassive, and betrayed no emotion. The three girls could not deduce what their leader thought of them, for her face and eyes were unreadable.

"Clarify where each of you are from, and provide some specific personal history," their leader said, pulling up two chairs, sitting down on one, and resting her feet on the other.

The three sat back down on the bench.

"My name is Tári," the blonde girl said. "I am half-Roman, half-Gaul. My father was a Roman commander, and my mother was a Gaul noblewoman. I started learning how to fight at the age of 11. When I was 13, I joined a Roman garrison under the command of a friend of my father. I have served the last five years with that garrison. A month ago, I was given orders to transfer to this outpost, where I would serve my last five years under a new commander; which I assume is you," Tári finished, gesturing to the woman perched on the chairs.

"You are 18, Tári?" their leader construed.

"Yes, I am," Tári replied.

Their leader dipped her head slightly.

"I am called Nessa," the red-haired girl said. "I am from Ireland; both my parents are Irish. My entire family was taken to be a slave family in Rome; and a wealthy Roman family bought us. Shortly after my 10th birthday, my master noticed that I was interested in the art of fighting. He trained me, and when I was 12, he obtained me a position in a Roman garrison, under the command of General Luaus. I served with the garrison for five years. A month ago, I also received an order to transfer to this outpost, where I would serve a period of five final years under a new commander; you," Nessa said, and finished.

"You are 17 then, Nessa?"

"Yes," Nessa replied.

Their leader glanced up at the three; then looked back down.

"I am known as Merenwen, most of my friends call me Meren. I am half-Lusitanian, half-Amazonian. I started to learn how to fight when I was 9. After 2 years, the chief of my village decided to find me a place of service elsewhere. I was all right at fighting, but I wasn't in the skilful Amazonian class. My chief found me a position in a Roman garrison when I was 11, under the command of a General Luaus. I served under his command for five years; and then, was told to report to serve with a new commander for my final five years," Merenwen said, and fluttered her hand at the woman sitting in the chairs, who was sharpening one of her daggers.

"You are 16." It was more of a curt, calm statement, than a question.

Merenwen nodded.

The woman went back to sharpening her dagger. The silence crawled by, and for a couple of minutes, nobody said anything.

"So, what's your name?" Nessa asked.

"That is none of your concern...yet, Nessa," the woman replied, slipping her dagger back into her boot.

"Can we at least know what to call you?" Merenwen asked.

"I will converse with you three presently. I must speak to someone," the woman replied shortly.

She got up from her chairs, and strode a short distance away. Tári, Nessa and Merenwen glanced over to where their leader was walking.

An older man in rich clothing and finery, with a church vesture, stood at the entranceway. Tári, Nessa and Merenwen recognized the man as Bishop Gnaeus Germanus; which sent of all their transfer papers to them.

While their leader spoke to the Bishop, Tári, Nessa and Merenwen took the opportunity to study her closely.

She was tall, and stood at least a half-foot higher than all of them. She was well built and strong, yet also appeared quite agile.

Her hair was a rich brown, and hung just past her shoulders, and was done up in braids in various places, and eyes that were a deep hazel brown. Her facial features were strong, and she bore two black, long and thin arrowhead tattoos on her prominent cheekbones.

She wore a thick, high-collared and long-sleeved, olive green shirt and bronze-coloured trousers. Over her shirt was a short-sleeved, olive green and grey metal-ringed jerkin that ended just below her hips, and was kept form fitting by a leather belt at her waist. She wore a black, non-fingered glove on her left hand, and she wore dark grey, knee-high boots.

The feature that amazed Tári, Nessa and Merenwen most was that their leader carried a substantial quantity of weapons.

Besides her bow and quiver of arrows, which lay on the ground at her feet, she had a small axe in her belt, two daggers in either boot, and an oriental-style sword strapped across her back.

Just then, Tári, Nessa and Merenwen saw Bishop Germanus hand their leader a thick scroll. After a few more words, he left the training grounds.

The woman looked at the scroll in her hands for a while; then walked back to the three.

"We leave for a mission tomorrow. I want you ready to go at first light," the woman said.

"Where are we going, and what's our mission?" Merenwen asked.

"We are to go to Germanium. I will explain the rest later." Their leader motioned a young man over.

"This is Cameron. He will show you to your rooms." She nodded; then whispered in Cameron's ear.

"Give them rooms in the same fortress wing as mine." She paused. "If they ask you questions; just give them my name, no more, no less."

Cameron nodded, and the woman left without a backwards glance.

"Well," Cameron said," if you would please follow me, I will take you to your accommodation."

"What shall we do with our horses?" Tári asked.

"Do not worry, they have already been stabled, and someone will bring your weapons up to your room," Cameron said, smiling.

The three girls nodded, and started walking with Cameron. Nessa started up a conversation.

"So Cameron, how long have you been at this fortress?"

"I live here," he replied. "My parents work here. My mother is a cook, and my father is a servant supervisor."

"That's interesting," Nessa said.

"What do you know of our leader?" Merenwen asked.

"Not much. She is a silent and mysterious person," Cameron replied.

"How long has she been stationed here?" Tári asked.

"A month, maybe two. People here hardly ever see her around the fortress, though," Cameron said.

"Can you tell us what you know of her?" Nessa said.

"No, I can't. But I can tell you her name, if that is of interest to you," Cameron said.

"That would be nice," Tári said.

"Very well. Her name is...Tiriel," Cameron said.

"Tiriel. That's a nice name," Merenwen said. "Do you know what it means?"

"No, I do not. Ah, here we are." Cameron opened a door into a balcony corridor. "Your rooms are the last three on the left. Tiriel's room is the black door at the end of the corridor."

"Thank you, Cameron," Tári said.

He smiled and turned to go. "Oh, I just remembered. If you like, you can have dinner at the tavern. The soldiers are always there, and it's a good place to meet people."

"Thanks, I think we will," Nessa said, looking at Tári and Merenwen.

Cameron nodded and walked off.


Tári, Nessa and Merenwen arrived at the tavern courtyard. Captain Butane saw them and invited them to join his table. They accepted and sat down.

"So, what do you think of Tiriel?" Butane asked.

"She's mystifying, silent, impassive," Nessa said.

"My thoughts exactly," Butane replied, laughing.

The three girls ordered some food. They talked with Butane a lot, and got to know some of the other soldiers. One of the soldiers started telling Tári about something to do with Tiriel, when Butane suddenly nudged him on the shoulder.

"Quiet! Look who's here," Butane said, jerking his head.

Tári, Nessa and Merenwen looked up. Tiriel was standing in the entrance, leaning against the wooden post. As she entered the tavern courtyard, the occupants went silent.

Tiriel walked over to the bar and nodded a greeting to an older woman. The woman filled up a tanker of ale and handed it to Tiriel. Tiriel pulled out a coin and held it out.

"Don't worry, it's on me," the older woman said.

Tiriel shook her head and gave a slight smile. "You say that every time I come in here, Wilmarie."

"And since you don't come in here often, I suspect something's different," Wilmarie replied.

Tiriel glanced at her; then took a swing of ale.

"Are those three girls your new soldiers?" Wilmarie asked.

Tiriel gave a slight nod.

"They're a slight scrawny, wouldn't you say so?"

Tiriel watched them. "I said the same thing to them."

"Well, what are their names? Where are they from? How much do they know about you," Wilmarie asked, in one breath.

Tiriel frowned. "I am not one for long conversation. You know that."

"Sorry, I forgot. You have told me many times you prefer silence and solitude. You're not going to have that much longer with these girls now, are you?" Wilmarie asked. "They look like real chatter-boxes."

Tiriel scowled.

"You must, at least, answer one question."

Tiriel looked up. "Fine."

"How much do they know about you?"

"Only my name, nothing more," Tiriel replied curtly.

Wilmarie nodded; then looked outside and started laughing. "Oh, look at that. Those two soldiers are having a knife-throwing contest."

Tiriel watched as one soldier threw his knife. "And making big fools of themselves," she muttered, as the knife landed on the edge of the target. "One of the soldiers is cheating."

"How do you know?"

"His foot is a half-meter over the shooting mark, but the other man is so drunk, he won't notice," Tiriel replied, scowling.

"Why don't you show the girls some skilful knife-throwing? That would give them something to think about during the mission tomorrow."

Tiriel gave a slight smile as she looked at Wilmarie. She stood up and finished her ale in one gulp; then pulled two knives from her boot.

Wilmarie nudged her shoulder. "Go girl."

Tiriel stood in the shadows of the courtyard, about four metres from the group of soldiers, watching the knife contest. The cheating soldier threw his knife, and it landed relatively near the centre.

"There," he said. "I challenge anyone to beat that. Or are all of you too coward?"

Tári looked around at the other soldiers. No one moved a muscle.

"Then, I guess I am the winner," the soldier said, guffawing.

A knife suddenly flew through the air. It raced past the soldier and landed in the centre of the soldier's thin knife hilt. There was a collective gasp, as everyone began looking around.

"A challenge, you say?"

Tári, Nessa and Merenwen turned around. Tiriel slowly walked out of the shadows, a second knife in her left hand.

The soldier looked embarrassed.

"Because, I think I won," Tiriel said.

"Tiriel..." Tári began.

"How do you do that?" Butane asked.

Tiriel scowled. "I aim for the middle," she replied, waving her hand at the target. She pulled her knife out of the other knife hilt.

A drunken soldier walked over. "How about a kiss from the best shot?"

Tiriel sent him a death glare and walked off. The soldier tried to stop her, by putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Bad idea," Butane muttered.

In an instant, the solider was on the floor, Tiriel's sword at his throat.

"Don't ever touch me. If you try again, I'll kill you," she said calmly. She sheathed her sword, and turned to go.

"Tiriel!" Wilmarie called.

Tiriel turned around. Wilmarie threw an apple. Tiriel reached out and caught it. She glanced at Tári, Nessa and Merenwen, then walked off.

"I think we should go get some rest," Tári said. "We must get up at first light."

Nessa and Merenwen nodded and rose. They bid Captain Butane goodnight and headed to their room.


Hope you enjoyed it. What do you think of Tiriel? Please review. Will update soon