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Chapter 2
"Listen to me, girl,
You have castles inside your bones,
Coronets in your heart,
If he threatens you with battle,
You raise him a whole war,
The last time I checked,
Queens cower before no man."
-Nikita Gill
The light of our Force blades dancing against each other, casting sinister shadows around the moor. He makes me hesitate and it goads my anger because I swore when I stepped onto the battlefield, I would never falter.
I rush him, closing the gap and he lifts his blade seconds before mine can pierce his chest. The strength of his parry makes my ears ring and sets my fingers tingling as our swords clash. I can hear his blade whispering, the runic carvings glowing brightly.
Our gazes lock and for a second time I see his eyes as they widen in surprise. I wonder if he can hear my blade whispering as well. This is something...new.
Master Kenobi never told me Force blades could speak to another.
"You," he growls as he twists his arm sharply, trapping my blade between his own weapon and body, "have some skill. Impressive, for a girl."
I snarl at the insult and pull the dagger from my hip, taking a swipe where helm and cowl leaves a gap at his throat.
He shoves me away, freeing our blades, seconds before I can cut his throat. I cross my dagger over my sword making certain my footing is secure in the soft soil of the moor.
"A dirty trick, unbecoming of a warrior. You," he points the tip of his blade at my face, "have no honor. Not that I expect a common peasant to have any to begin with."
"I am not a knight," I remind him as I make a jab with my blade but he evades with little effort, "and I fight for no master. I fight," I throw the dagger at his head, he turns it away as if swatting a fly, "to survive!"
"A paltry effort then if you expect to beat...ugh!"
I smile grimly beneath my cloak as the vines snake down from the trees to wrap around his wrist, halting his movements. I never expected the dagger to hit, merely a distraction to buy me some time.
Controlling the vines and using the Force blade is nothing I have had to do in tandem and the strain of maintaining both is nigh unbearable.
Sweat beads my brow, head throbbing as he struggles against them and I clench my teeth in an effort to hold him in place. My strength feels as though it is being drained out of me.
'He is strong. Much stronger than those guardsmen from before.'
A twinge of admiration disturbs my heart and I ruthlessly ignore it. I will never admire an enemy of Alderaan. To do so would betray everything I and the great rebellion have been striving for.
"Stop struggling," I move closer to where he stands, "it is futile. No one has ever broken free of my vines."
His armor is thick, but my blade is unique and will pierce steel. "Tell me what I wish and perhaps I will spare your life."
I do not enjoy killing and though I have no doubt this man deserves to die, I pray he will listen and yield to my demands. Again I feel a twinge in my heart, as if it skips a beat.
"I have no need of mercy from the likes of you."
His arrogance is astounding and my feelings of leniency, slight as they might be, vanish in an instant.
"Very well," I lift my blade to align with his heart since he has chosen not to yield, "then I...NO!"
I scream as he yanks his left arm down, my vines snapping as their death cries drive me to my knees. The cut of his sword against the other hollows my bones and I cannot breathe past the pain, my vision blurring.
Master Kenobi warned me of this and I refused to listen. Connecting to the natural world will leave one vulnerable to attack if used as a weapon. I had never met anyone who could free themselves once I entangled them.
The heat of his blade makes the air burn and I gasp beneath my scarf as the tip of his blade rests just below my chin. I have no choice but to tilt my face up or fear burning.
"Yield, Maiden and I will forestall your death today. You are beaten."
I have never yielded to a man in my short life and he will not be the first to make me do so. Fury overrides the pain, an energy I have never experienced turning my blood to flame and I draw quickly on this new found strength.
"Never!"
I use a child's trick and grasp at the sandy soil and throw it in his face. He is close enough that I have a chance of reaching his eyes through the slits in his helm. If any of the forgotten gods are still with us, mayhap I will blind him.
"Wench!"
He pulls his arm up to protect his face and I use those precious seconds to roll away, snatching up my fallen blade and making for the cover of the trees. I clench my fist, calling for the vines and reach for the earthy ropes as they lift me high into the treetops. The renewed vigor from earlier is gone and I am nearly drained to the dregs. I am shaking as if caught in a winter storm and fear I may drop my blade.
"So now you run away like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs?"
I glance down at the Knight with his sword raised in my direction. I give him a mocking salute as I sheath my own and douse the light. The dark green of my cloak will hide me well among the leafy canopy.
"I live to fight another day," I murmur the words but they are bitter on my tongue, "and the next time we meet, I promise you it will not end the same way."
The next time my sword will hone its edge on your bones.
"The next time we meet, Maiden of the Moor, your blood will coat my blade and that is a promise I intend to keep."
His words chill my soul, freezing the blood in my veins. He is a formidable enemy and I doubt there is any among my companions who could defeat a man such as he.
"To the death then, Crimson Knight." The world turns gray and I should leave now but I cannot pass up this chance for last parting shot, petty as it might seem, "Give your mongrel king my fondest regards! I pray he never sleeps well so long as I live."
His snarl of rage is darkling music to my ears and I laugh as I disappear into the woods, the treetops my path to freedom.
I touched the hollow of my throat where his sword kissed my skin. For a moment, I thought my time had come.
'A fearsome monster indeed.'
I shiver as I make my way back to our encampment. I might have escaped with my life but I still had no idea how a mercenary knight came to wield a Force blade...
"Rey, wake up, it's dawn."
I blink sleepily at the sound of Finn's gruff voice. That dream...I keep reliving my meeting with the Crimson Knight. His promise to kill me, the echo of his thwarted rage, still fresh in my mind. After finding my brothers last eve I explained who had been pursuing us.
I didn't know Poe could swear like a back-alley sailor and Finn's stoic silence was nearly as bad.
Poe stalked off, probably to go hunt and work off some of his frustration. Finn looked after the children who were still with us at camp. Poe and Finn had deemed them unfit for travel for at least a day, if not more.
Most of the children simply collapsed for exhaustion as soon as they were let down from the horses. I learned this later when I arrived.
Since dusk had already fallen and I was swaying on my feet, my brother sent me to bed straight away.
"Oh," I yawn again, stretching from my sleeping pallet, "why are you now just waking me? I thought I told you I would stand last watch."
"You were in no better shape than the children," he gave me a slight smile, "so I took your place instead. You can make it up to me with honey cakes."
I make a face at my brother. My cooking skills, or lack thereof, were legendary around camp. When it came my turn to prepare our evening meal I swear every one of my friends finds an excuse to be absent.
Except when we have an additional luxury of honey and sugar and I can make dessert. Then I cannot get rid of them fast enough.
"We will see, now go so I can put on cleaner clothing." My brother he might be but I am not dressing in front of him. I might live and fight like a man during these dark times but I am still a woman.
I do have some dignity left.
"As you wish, my lady."
"Oh, begone with you!"
He ducks, laughing, as I throw my pillow at him. I retrieve the wadded up blanket that acts as my pillow with a sigh.
Sometimes I wonder who is fooling who around here. I cannot recall the last time anyone called me 'my lady' without a mocking edge to it.
"Never mind," I strip out my dirty tunic and leggings for something a bit cleaner, "it doesn't matter if I'm not a proper lady. I am a fighter and that is good enough."
I rummage through my pack until I find something suitable.
A long sleeve tunic of pale, spring green that might have been closer to emerald if it had not been washed a hundred times over. More than a bit loose around my chest is must have belonged to Poe at one time or mayhap Finn but it is mine now. I quickly twist the leather strap around my waist. Loose leggings, wool not cotton, and soft deer hide boots that I lash around my ankles and calves with a bit of leftover thong. The soles are so worn out I can feel the pebbles beneath my feet as I walk.
Sighing, I use a bonetooth comb to tidy my hair. I stare at the length, my one vanity. I should have it cut as Poe insists but the color, mahogany with just a hint of true red, is a reminder of my mother.
She had the exact same shade as I do. I think. My memories over the years have dimmed but I am certain her hair was long and beautiful.
It also serves to remind me that long ago I was someone's daughter. Not just another soldier in the war against King Hux.
"Enough woolgathering you ninny. Keep this up and Poe will tease you again on why women don't belong in battle."
As if having long hair and wanting to wear a dress now and again makes me less of a fighter than he. I can win our mock duels seven falls out of ten. Finn no longer spars against me for the same reason.
I yank my hair into a thick plait, a leather thong tying off the ends and toss it over my shoulder. I will have to go to the river to wash my face properly. I sniff and lift an arm, wrinkling my nose. I need a good wash as well.
Later, I promise myself, after the children are safely back with their parents.
I tug on the flap to my 'home'. It is nothing more than a cross pole with an oiled leather tarp thrown over it. My bedding is a pile of blankets stuffed with straw and easily packed away. We cannot have any permanent base to avoid detection. Dathomir is a large, ancient forest but King Hux is relentless in his persecution of our great cause. I have no doubt he'll be hiring trackers from the desert kingdom of Tatooine, or the winter kingdom of Hoth, as a means to better find us.
I should take this thought to the next council meeting.
Though I suppose 'council' is a loose term.
Poe and Finn await me outside my tent and I see my erstwhile brother is in need of a shave. Soon his whiskered face will resemble the wild men of the island nation Kashyyyk.
"So the fair maiden graces us with her lovely presence."
"Go shut your pie hole Poe."
He should know better than to tangle with me before I have my coffee. I am grateful our supplies still let us brew the stuff or I would show him the true meaning of a shrew.
He grins at me, unperturbed by my tone, holding a clay mug out in offering. The strong brew wafts through the air and I grab it quickly from him before he can do something truly horrendous, like take it back.
I gulp the hot liquid, singeing my tongue in the process, but I do not care. The bitter drink crawls down my throat. It is coarse, we must be out of milk and sugar again, but I swallow it down to the dregs.
My blood nearly sings with renewed energy and I sigh, handing the empty mug back to Poe. He makes a show of turning it upside down and shaking out the invisible droplets I certainly did not leave behind.
"I swear Rey, you become more of a man with every passing second. You could give Beaumont lessons on how to drink."
I throw a punch at his head and he ducks it with practiced ease. I swear, one day, I am not going to be joking and I will teach him not to tease me so.
I glance at Finn who is at our side but he merely flashes white teeth against dark skin. Of course he is no help. He always sides with Poe whenever we get into scraps.
Men, so...so...obnoxious!
Poe grins with expectation. He is trying to bait me and I have a mind to thumb my nose at him but one of us must be the adult.
"So where are we with the plans to take the children back to their homes?"
Poe sighs and all joviality leaves his weathered face. "Let's take a walk, the situation has become complicated."
I nod and fall into step next to him. Various companions hail me and I lift my hand in acknowledgment but do not stop to chat idly. He walks a familiar path until we reach the forge. It is a wonder with us constantly on the move that we can have a smithy at all.
I smile to see Rose in her working aprons, her dark hair pulled back into a messy bun. The soot smeared across her forehead does not deter from the long scar that runs jagged from her left ear down past her chin.
A memento from the first war that shattered our childhood. No one knows how she received such a mark. Rose hasn't spoken since Baron Brendol Hux burned our village to the ground, killing all the adults.
That was ten years ago and now his son, Armitage, has taken over the throne. We have exchanged one tyrant for another.
Only I believe his son is much worse than the father. It is a feeling in my bones, a sense of growing apprehension that I have long since stopped trying to explain to others. They do not understand.
They have not seen the dreams I have. I wish, for a thousandth time, Master Kenobi was still alive so I could pour all of my worries into his patient ear.
But he is gone and I must do this...alone.
"Ah, so Poe has managed to rouse his sister. Greetings Rey, I trust you slept well?"
Beaumont salutes me with his clay mug, his face a reddish hue from the forge fires.
"Good morning Beau and yes as well as any of us do here in camp."
"Alright, enough prattling. Beaumont, explain to Rey about what we have learned from the children."
Poe shudders and crosses his arms. I do not know why he has such an aversion to children, he forgets he too was once a child.
The thought gives me pause. Perhaps I have my answer after all.
"Right. These children are not from Alderaan."
I nearly fall off the log I'm sitting on.
"What? But where? Why?"
It was during the time of King Brendol slavery was once more introduced to our society. Since then, children and adults have been kidnapped and sold in the slave markets all over Alderaan. It was Master Kenobi and a handful of monks, still loyal to the Way of the Force, who set the spark of our great rebellion by freeing the first of the enslaved.
"Naboo, from what I have been able to learn. The outer villages are not protected by their capital city of Theed." Beaumont sets his cup on the ground, his face pensive. "They tell me children from Lake Country to Otho have been taken from their fields and homes, crossing into Alderaan for the slave markets."
Nausea rolls through my gut and I fear I may lose the liquid I just swallowed. Citizens stolen from our allies. This is not the kingdom I grew up in as a child. It is well Queen Leia and King Han are dead for this would surely break their hearts.
"But with these actions, the other kingdoms will surely take offense and attack Alderaan."
"Not if enough nobles are conspiring with King Hux."
I glance up at Poe, praying to the old gods he is poorly timing his jest, but his eyes are hard as flintrock.
Poe may not abide children much but he is quick to defend the younglings against all manner of evil.
"So Naboo is giving way to the corruption of our false king," I murmur, an ache in my soul, "how far we have fallen to traffic children from other realms."
I clench my fist and jump to my feet, no longer able to sit quietly. "We'll stop them. We'll show all of those pompous nobles how we, the true citizens of Alderaan, should behave. Tell me what routes you have planned and I will-"
"Do nothing."
I gape, momentarily startled, by the harsh tone in Poe's voice. "Poe? What is this? You must take me with you."
"No, I'm sorry Rey but not this time."
Of all the times to throw his weight around and tote what little authority he has against me.
You may be the leader of our rebellion but you forget one little detail, brother mine.
"I am the Maiden of the Moor," I remind him, planting my fist on my hips, "How will you manage without me? Can any of you control the forest as I can? Communicate with the natural beasts as I do?"
I see the look in Poe's eyes, the crease between his brow. He is ready to argue and I am ready to answer his argument with my fist if I must.
Rose steps in between us, chestnut eyes narrowed as she begins weaving her hands into the strange language she managed to create in her silence in order to be heard.
I do not understand more than a handful of 'words' but Finn and Beaumont can respond with nigh fluidity.
"Rose is correct," Beaumont is translating for myself and Poe, "Rey, in lieu of your fight with the Crimson Knight it is almost certain King Hux is hunting for the Maiden. Why else would he pull his champion from the battlefield?"
I clamp my lips together and wish I could protest Rose's reasoning but that exact question has been plaguing my thoughts endlessly.
Why did the Crimson Knight come after me, specifically? It would make more sense for him to have abandoned me in the forest and given chase after Poe and Finn if they were sent to retrieve the stolen children.
But he did not. He went so far as to goad me into a duel, as if he were...testing me.
The more I think about him the more I wish I had sliced his throat instead of hesitating like I did back in the ruins.
My hesitation is not something I have revealed to anyone. Not even my beloved brothers who are dearer to me than life itself.
"But I-"
"Rey," Finn's hand on my shoulder, "you must see reason. Let Hux's anger burn itself out for the time being. We, Poe and myself, can slip between the borders of Alderaan and Naboo and return the children with none the wiser."
I understand their reasoning but I like it not. Since my battle with the Crimson Knight, I have become a liability to our cause. What use is the 'Maiden' if it draws the wrong kind of attention.
But another idea sparks in its stead.
"Very well," I sigh and resume my spot on the log, "The Maiden will not be a hindrance to your plans. How long will your journey take?"
My brothers exchange glances. Beaumont gives me a narrowed look. I smile glibly at him, pretending I do not see their suspicion about my sudden capitulation.
"Four days, perhaps five. We'll outfit a wagon to look like traveling merchants. We can move quickly and keep the children from being seen."
Rose weaves her hands and Finn nods enthusiastically. "Right, that's why we asked you to fix the axle on the wagon we salvaged those few weeks ago during our last raid. We'll have to go the long route but we will be able to cross into Naboo more easily and pick up supplies without alerting the nobles loyal to Hux."
They continue talking and I listen with only half an ear. Four day, perhaps five in total. That should work to my advantage.
My brother has made it clear the 'Maiden' must remain in hiding. So in hiding she will stay.
But I have other ways of getting around their decree. Perhaps it is time I once more visited the outer villages to sell my trinkets and see what useful information I can glean from the unwary.
The Maiden might be in hiding but the woman Rey is free to roam the kingdom of Alderaan.
No one need ever learn they are one in the same.
