Ch 1. Bump In The Night
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293 A.C.
I knelt in the dancing shadow of fire awaiting instruction. Before me, on a dark, polished chair of dragonglass sat my father. The lit braziers lining the throne room helped enshroud my father in darkness, but I did not need my eyes to know his face or his voice. When he spoke, his voice deep and lined with steel, I heeded every word.
"Brigands," the disgust was faint, but I could feel it still. "Spotted along the Brimstone with two females in chains. You are to kill them and bring the women back here."
I waited a couple of beats before asking my question. "Will I be going alone?"
Father leaned back in his seat. "Will you be needing help?"
I prickled. "No."
"Then accomplish this task and send those lawless men to Hell; you know our words."
" 'We send them to Hell.' "
"Then go. See it done, Toren."
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I was already geared for a task from my father in plate mail with a spear and sword strapped along with my mask atop my tan hood. After 16 years, I'd come to anticipate the danger he'd point me towards. I stayed prepared, so I did not need to waste time. In instances like this, time was of the essence, and I could nor would squander any of it.
I flew through the open gates of Hellhold on the back of Dune, my sand stead. Dune was a stallion, unlike many others, fast as the wind and blended into the Dornish sands good as any rattler from a distance. On a moonless night like this, we were more akin to a sand spirit.
I knew the path from home to the Brimstone by heart; Dune did too, so it was easy finding the camp Hellhold's Outriders alerted my father of after their nightly patrol. I dismounted and assured Dune with a soft pat on her white-marked snout before creeping closer. I counted a dozen men, some beared, big, thin, or bald. They were all drunk or close to, half-clothed and merry for some reason.
"Don't touch me!" That reason revealed itself with a shove and scurry. I saw the two females and realized they were less women and more girls. The two girls huddled together as far as they could away from the men in dirty, tattered poor excuses for clothes.
Instantly, I grew disgusted and furious. The combination curdled in my gut, and my hand wandered to my spear strapped across my back. I unholstered it quiet as a mouse and crept closer. These types of men I'd only heard cautionary tales about from father or the maid-servents; men who held no honor and acted more like dogs than men. It made me sick to witness firsthand, and I moved quicker the louder they became. The scene need not get uglier than it already was.
"Haha!" One man laughed, then burped bodaciously. "I say fuck that lord and his wishes! Not every day you have a princess within reach."
"W-we should figure out where we…we at," one drunken man sagged in the sand, swirling his drink around like a boat against the waves. "Lost…We're lost? Hey, Reef, are we lost?"
"Fuck if I know," another giggled and leered at the two girls. "I only have one thing on my mind right now," he said and grabbed at his crotch. Every man in the camp erupted in laughs. The two girls cowered closer together visibly trembling. I was nearly close enough to attack, but then a man stood up abruptly.
He was a big man, broader and hairier than all the rest. The large man poured the drink into his mouth like a waterfall, splashing over his beard and chest. He wiped his mouth and threw the cup into the ground.
"Then let's get on with it!" He all but yelled as if to a crowd. His hands fiddling with the waistband of his trousers. "I'm more than ready for action."
"Don't come near us," the girl with darker, brown skin found some defiance in her tone and pushed the fairer-skinned one behind her. "Touch any us and– and I'll kill you! I'll cut off your cocks and feed them to you!"
The biggest of them laughed as he approached. The others watched on with bated breath, and I kept one eye on the situation as I closed into position; only a few more feet before I was in range. The big man reached for her, but she beat his hands away from her fiercely. The men cheered and jeered.
"Oh, she's got some fight still," one man chortled.
"I like em with some bite!" Another said to uproarious laughter.
SMACK!
The big man had lost his patience. The girl lie in the sand from the strike to her face. The other girl cried out and bent down to help the other up while every man laughed even louder.
Blessedly, I was in position. Any closer and the whole camp would spot me, but there were ways to initiate things without getting too close. I hefted my spear up like one would a javelin. I'd done this before, practiced it until I could hit a target moving on horseback, so I liked to think I was a good shot. Not that I needed too much skill to hit such a large man. Even so, I muttered a prayer to the Warrior my aim be true.
" 'Uncle Oberyn will save me,' " Another mocked as I evened out my breath and tensed my muscles. " 'The Red Viper will gut you.' Haha, the Red Viper will be dead before the moon turn. Looking for you two, he's searching for his death."
"The Red Viper dead in the sand. How poetic!"
"Stranger take you!" The girl snarled as she was helped up. She sounded as if she fought hard not to sob in the same breath. "You will all pay for this with your rancid lives! You won't get away with this!"
"Ooh, I'm so scared," The big one mocked as his buddies laughed. He spread his arms wide. That's when I threw my spear. "Stranger take me right now, the princess commands it," he said to the sky. Everyone laughed and laughed until my spear met its target. Then they screamed.
I saw my spear puncture the man's chest like a needle through fabric or an arrow through a neck; only this arrow was 7 feet long. I couldn't stop to admire my work. I slid my mask over my face, unsheathed my sword, and went on the attack.
The men devolved into panic and fear, and I took ruthless advantage. I lept from the shadows with my blade bared and nailed a man right through his chest. His death alerted the others my way as I yanked my blade out, now dripping with blood. Some spurt across my face, but my mask covered everything but my eyes. The press of leather on my cheeks brought a kind of security to me. In this mask, I felt more than a man, and so I'd act like it.
The others screamed incoherently, and I took a secret twisted pleasure in their terror. Men such as these deserved no less than to piss themselves before meeting the Stranger.
I hunted after them as they scrambled like rats for weapons or safety. I sliced one across the throat, ducked a punch, and took the arm off at the elbow. Their scream was silenced by my blade replacing their tongue. I yanked it out just in time to sway back from a drunken swipe of a mace. The weapon thudded against the sand, and I kneed the man hard in the nose. I grabbed his hair, yanked his head back to slit his throat, and then let him drop onto the sand.
That was six. Six more to go.
I flicked the blood off my sword and continued. Another screamed a war cry as he charged at me with a spear, but I dodged and cut his hands off before piercing his heart. Five. Two shirtless men joined together to attack me as another body dropped.
They both had swords and looked manic with wide eyes and heaving chests. I ducked slice after stab, kicked one in the balls, and thumped the other with an elbow to the side of his head.
"Die demon!" I heard screamed. I looked and found a bowman with an arrow ready to loose. The bowman let it fly with a twang, aiming right for my head. I tracked its flight from the moment he loosed it, and tilted my head left just enough to dodge.
The arrow found the chest of the one I kicked in the balls. The man died with a question on his lips and sand in his mouth. Four. Afterward, I'd admit how cool what I'd done was, but for now, the task was not finished. I killed the last near me and went after the bowman. Arrow fire was so annoying to deal with.
I heard quick footsteps from the left and had to sway back from the sword that whooshed for my neck. I stepped into the man's guard as he attacked again and cracked his nose with a headbutt. My mask made sure I didn't feel any of it while I am sure the man felt all and then some. I turned him around by the shoulder just in time to catch a spear with his gut.
My human shield was pierced through the gut and choked; harder as I shoved him further onto the spear. Three. I kicked him into the spearer, heard another arrow loose, and rolled to the side on reflex. I was fed up with being shot at and ran at the bowman. One more man with a sword stood in front of the bowman as if to guard, but he swayed where he stood. To be honest, he looked ready to throw up on his boots not kill.
"No!" The bowman screamed as I got closer, and he fumbled to grab another arrow. In his panic, he pushed his 'guard' at me, but it only bought him a moment. Two. A slash cut down the momentary obstacle, then my sword found the bowman's heart. One.
I pulled my sword from his body and found the lone survivor sobbing with a body cradled in his lap.
I may have felt a twinge of pity for him, but as it stood I did not. I stepped toward him, and his head swung up to look at me with fierce, tear-filled eyes.
"Demon!" He cried as his body shook with sobs, his tears splashing onto the face on his lap staring listlessly up at the stars. "You monster! He was my brother and you made me kill him!"
My father's voice told me to put him out of his misery. It was mercy at this point.
"I'll kill you!"
What happened was the opposite, of course. Said they were brothers, so it was perhaps fitting they die together.
I lifted my mask and whistled for Dune. In my peripherals, I saw the girls flinch, and I turned on reflex to see what had done it. Only a second after did I realize it was my fault.
"Who did you just whistle for?" I saw a young woman, with dark hair and brown skin poised to pin me with a knife. The other girl, fair of skin and hair, had a knife too. "Who did you whistle for?!"
I was left bereft of words, but before I could say anything Dune cantered up with a neigh of displeasure I'd heard many times. She bumped into me, imposing herself between me and the girls. I stuttered back and nearly tripped over the bodies on the ground. Dune told me about myself one last time, I guessed, then settled down.
"You done?" I asked the horse as I inched towards the reins carefully. Fool me once, shame on me. Dune let me rein her in without much complaint, but now came the hard part. I glanced over to the girls and, yeah, they still were ready to stab me. That needed to change if I wanted to bring them back with me.
"I whistled for my horse, my lady," I began nice and easy. "This is Dune. I am Toren Uller, son of Lord Harmen Uller of Hellold; a keep just north of here."
I let that all hang in the air between us. Maybe I was exaggerating, but it felt like even Dune had stilled. I could feel my heart pumping hard as the ladies were unmoved. Their knives didn't lower, and the looks I got didn't waver or change. I fought not to bite my lip.
"I promise you safety there," I just came out and said it. "A way to contact your family. A roof over your head and a bed to rest in. I can...swear it on my honor or swear it on the Seven if you'd prefer."
And that was all I had to say. It was the girls' turn to receive or reject my offer. If they did turn down my help, though, what was I to do? I guess I could disarm them, and technically kidnap them for their own good? But that would be a bad look, would it not?
"Where is your proof of your claims, Toren Uller?" She sounded as if my name was fake, which was a little offensive. If she knew what I had to do to earn the name she wouldn't be saying it like that.
I thought about how to answer when Dune plodded around, baring her other side to the girls. It hit me, the coat of arms. I promised myself to brush this damn smart horse as much as she wanted the next moment the chance appeared.
"My coat of arms on my horse," I say more to make sure that's what they pay attention to.
"You could've stolen that," was the reply I got. "It means little in the way of getting us to trust you."
"Well, then what can I do to show I am trustworthy and mean only what I say? I swear on the Seven I mean you two no harm, nor does my father or anyone there."
"Your weapons," the girl gestured with her knife. "Toss them to the ground, then kick them over to us."
I wasn't keen on getting that spear back, to be honest, so I just left it. Everything else, from my sword to my daggers, I tossed and kicked over to them. The fair-skinned one collected them together as best she could. At the lady's next command, I led Dune over and handed her the reins. The smaller, fairer one got on first with my weapons holstered in her arms, then the raven-haired one climbed on.
"Hiyah!" The girl went suddenly, but Dune didn't so much as budge. I'd have been angry if Dune not moving wasn't funnier. I fought a losing battle trying to keep my laugh in, and it spilled out between my lips. The cough I used to cover it couldn't have convinced a soul.
The girl looked from the horse to me balefully. "Don't laugh at me! It's not funny! What did you do to this horse?!"
I outright laughed at that and tried to sober up quickly. I managed after a few moments. "Dune is better trained than that. She was taught to only follow my voice." I held my hand out to her. "May I see the reins?"
"For what?"
"So I can help lead the way back to Hellholt," Obviously. "Dune knows the way, but she'd rather I not leave her alone again."
Dune neighed and tossed her head to agree. A clingy horse I'd say.
It took a moment, well, several moments before the girl handed me the reins to my horse. When had this all gotten so backward? I reached into the saddle bag and pulled out a dried-out piece of wood wrapped in cloth. I walked over to the campfire to set it alight and then returned to Dune and the girls. Pre-prepared torch for the victory.
I was set to go. The girls seemed, if not willing, than understanding I did not mean them harm. I gently pulled on Dune's lead and set off on an easy trot back home with the torch to light the way.
As I walked, I couldn't help but think back on the words of those men. Not the crass ones, but the ones about one of the girls being the princess and the mention of a Lord involved. If either were true, this situation will become more complicated than a simple rescue.
There was one princess in Dorne, but I couldn't trust the words of a drunken brigand. I didn't know what the Dornish Princess looked like, first of all, and, second of all, those brigands were drunk. Drunk men were not reliable sources of information; drunk outlaws even less. I needed confirmation of my own.
I realized I hadn't asked for the girls' names. I rectified that with a simple question but only got more distrust and a sharp retort from the supposed princess. Father would know, I decided, and what he decided would be best. This I knew for a fact.
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AN: *thunk* *thunk* *thunk* Ayo, Is this thing still on? Is anyone still out there? I wrote this thing. I hope you like it. Till next time!
