TwistofShadows - My 1st review! I was so happy to hear that someone loved my story! I was quite stunned and quite excited to get such positive feedback. I do think my characters through very thoroughly before I even start the actual writing, from their appearance to their family, as well as their past and future. I'm also happy that you found it so realistic. Thank you for such wonderful comments. I hope you will continue to be pleased.
KnightMaiden - Thank you, I'm so glad you like my story. I'm very excited about this and where it will go. As to a pairing, I'm not saying a word, you'll just have to wait and see. .lol. I don't plan to reveal just whom her brother is yet either, though you may get some clues. Haven't decided yet. Sorry, I love a bit of mystery. . .lol.
Mandamirra10 - Thank you very much, I'm glad you like my story. I have so many exciting ideas for this I can't wait to get them out!
A/N - Sorry this took so long, I've been sick and had a bit of trouble getting started with this chapter. Hopefully the next will come a little more quickly. Please keep R&Ring. . .let me know how I'm doing! Enjoy!
Chapter Two : Hope Renewed
It had been a week since they had brought the stallion into the encampment. A week in which Atoll had tried, unsuccessful as of yet, to break him. He had begun with his trademark beatings, and then, when that only served to further enrage the animal, he'd started withholding food and water. He'd hoped to starve him into submission. Instead, however, the stallion appeared to have no ill effects of the starvation, whatsoever. Atoll grew angrier and, if possible, more violent as the days passed. He could not figure it out. . . until one evening. . . he did.
Brenna had been sneaking water and food to the stallion.
She knew it was foolish to even attempt such a thing, but she could not bear to stand by and allow the beautiful creature to be treated as she was. She had gotten away with it for days but had,in one horrifying moment, beencaught.
Atoll was livid beyond belief, and had beaten her savagely, until even his lieutenants thought he'd finally gone completely mad. Her salvation had come in the unexpected form of a Saxon scout, stumbling mortally wounded into the camp. He brought news of the reconnaissance party sent out almost two weeks prior, and the second sent out mere days before.
Dead, all of them dead.
They'd been ambushed and had never even seen their attackers. Their rankshad beenthrown into confusion and decimated by a shower of arrows, before they could even form a defense.
Upon hearing this, Atoll flew into a screaming rage, ordering some of his troops to prepare for battle and the others to stay behind and guard the encampment.
Forgotten and unnoticed by all, Brenna had dragged herself to her tent where she collapsed in a bruised, bleeding heap, and passed into blissful unconsciousness.
Atoll and his men moved out before dawn, leaving behind Brenna, the other two remaining slaves and a only a few dozen Saxons to guard them. That would be a mistake he would live to regret.
Brenna took a cleansing, albeit painful, breath of pine air as she limped slowly down the path to the pond.
Her footsteps silent in the grey dawn, muffled bythe thick layer of pine needles and moss, that blanketed the forest floor.
A squirrel chattered a happy greeting from the treetops as she passed by, and she glanced up at him, watching as he scampered along a branch several feet up.
She loved the forest, with its tall trees, plants and especially it's animal inhabitants. It calmed her to walk through the early morning serenity of the woods, listening to the animals going about their daily routines. Escaping for a few moments the harshness of campfire smoke and Saxons.
This morning, however, there was no peace to be had. All she could think of was the pain. It seemed to radiate from every inch of her body with a life of its own. Her head pounded, and her left eye was swollen shut, a deep purple/black. Blood still trickled slightly from a gash on her forehead at the hairline, and another on her right calf. She was sure her left arm was either broken, or at least very badly sprained, as it was swollen to nearly twice it's usual size. The rest of her body was a mass of bruises, small cuts, and scrapes.
Upon reaching the pond's edge, Brenna set down the basket she was carrying and knelt by the water. She glanced over her shoulder to the path behind her, and gave a small sigh of relief. Usually a guard or two followed her on her morning excursions to the pond, though not always.
As they grew to trust her more and more (especially when Atoll was away) they allowed her new freedoms. Without them there it meant that she could take her time and relax her constant guard.
Turning back to the basket, she pulled out the dishes she had come to wash and set them before her on the mossy ground. Quickly cleaning the pot, wooden bowl and utensils, she replaced them in the basket and withdrew a rag. This Brenna dipped in the icy cold water and began to bathe her wounds with slightly shaking hands.
She drew in a sharp intake of breath as the cloth came into contact with the gash on her forehead, but quickly stifled it. Fighting a wave of nausea brought on by the pain, she rinsed the cloth again and again. Submerging it once more, she held her left arm in the water for a few moments, hoping to numb the throbbing at least a little. Pulling the rag out, she bunched it up and held it against her black eye, the icy coldness bringing a slight respite to the bruise.
Closing her good eye, Brenna took several long, slow breaths. Trying to will away the pain and the rising desperation and hopelessness of her situation. She'd been strong for months, but this last beating, worse than any before, had brought her very close to the breaking point. There was only so much one soul could take.
"Will I never escape this place? Never see my brother again?"
She questioned the air around her. Thoughts of her brother, her twin, filled her mind. His hair, so like hers, dark and unruly. His smiling eyes as they laughed and played, carefree children roaming the brilliant green hills surrounding their village. But then the Roman soldiers came and took him, and those same eyes filled with sadness. She knew not if he still lived, but clung to the hope that he did indeed. He was all she had left in the world, he had to be alive.
A sudden noise to her right snapped her back to the present, as her eye flew open and looked for the source.
There, on a mossy stump about a foot away, sat a small brown hawk. His inquisitive eyes meeting her gaze without a trace of fear, not that that was unusual, animals were rarely afraid of Brenna. She glanced quickly over her shoulder towards the path, ensuring herself that she was still alone, then spoke aloud.
"What are you doing here love?" The bird held out his foot towards her and she noticed for the first time that he carried something.
"What have you got there?"
She reached out her hand and he dropped the item into it. Looking down she was surprised to see a dagger, with what appeared to be a piece of bark tied to it. Clutching it to her chest she swiftly looked to the path once again, before untying the leather strips holding the wood to the blade.
Raising her eye to the hawk, she saw he was still there, gazing upon her serenely, waiting.
Unrolling the piece of bark she read the single word carved there,
'Tonight.'
With a soft gasp of shock, she scanned the forest around her, but could see no one. Returning to the bird, her green eye stared into his questioning brown ones.
"I'll be ready."
With a nod of his head, the bird took to the air and was gone.
Wrapping the dagger in the bloody rag, she hid it securely under the dishes in the basket. Climbing to her feet, Brenna picked it up and turned toward the path. Just then footsteps could be heard tramping through the forest, followed by an angry voice.
"Where are ye wench? What's taking ye so long?" Before the owner of the voice even came into view she knew who it was. . . Andsaca.
Brenna ducked her head and started shuffling towards the path, a perfectly obedient servant.
"I am coming my Lord, please forgive me for taking so long." Coming up behind her, he shoved her in the direction of the camp, sending shock waves of agony through her body.
"Stupid Sarmatian whore, get ye self back to camp and get about yer chores. Lazy wench."
Clenching her teeth and clutching the now precious basket to her side, Brenna scurried down the path. Ignoring the beastly man who followed close behind. Her mind flooding with plans, she walked with a new sense of purpose.
Her heart filled with hope renewed.