AN: There, three chapters at once, but only because this one is so short. Should have the fourth done soon, too. Thanks for reading!
CHAPTER 3: A Painful Start
"Ow!" Branches snapped in my face from my frantic flight. My horse suddenly stopped and reared as a black-clad man grabbed for its bridle. Horse? What the...?
"Just take the goods and the lady! Protecting them's not worth my life!" called a panicked voice behind me. He was one of maybe 6 men on horseback around me, and there was a donkey pulling a wagon. We were on a packed dirt road amid an old-growth forest. Scruffy men with naked swords, like the guy right next to me, were running at us from the trees around.
The man trying to grab my horse laughed, a laugh that sent a shiver down my spine. "I'll take 'em all right. But sorry, mate, I like the killin' part."
Fight or flight instinct clicked on and I kicked him in the head despite the dress I was wearing. Why was I wearing a bloody dress anyway? Oh well, good thing Mom made me take taekwondo when I was 6. Wait...
The memory slipped out of my mind like water, and my confused hesitation cost me. Swearing, my attacker grabbed my arm in a bruising grip and ripped me right off the horse. I tried to smash his nose with the back of my head, but I was somehow shorter than I expected to be, and I only hurt my head against a hard chest.
He literally threw me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. Crouching low, he grabbed my chin hard enough to make my eyes water. Waving a dagger under my nose, he snarled, "stay there while I finish this and you may live."
Terror like I'd never known wrapped icy claws around my insides and the psychopath smiled. "That's right, little girl." He turned to join his equally skeevy companions in attacking my cowardly escorts. Horses screamed and swords clashed as bandits overwhelmed the small party I'd apparently been traveling with. I could actually smell blood in the air and my mouth tasted bitter with fear.
But he'd made a mistake in calling me little girl. I detest nicknames, especially demeaning ones. Anger pushed some of the fear down. Like hell I'd wait on the ground like a frightened mouse. As soon as he turned away, I scrambled to my feet and took off in a random direction into the woods. The stupid dress and -- was I wearing an actual cloak? -- made it harder than normal, but I was highly motivated.
Every branch grabbed at my clothes or hair, but I never slowed. I would NOT be caught by --
"Ack!" I almost choked as I was pulled to a violent stop by a hand grabbing my cloak. I tried to loosen the offending article, but it was too late. I was spun around and my earlier attacker grabbed two fistfuls of the front of my cloak and lifted me off my feet. How freaking strong was this guy? He pulled me so close his rancid breath made me gag.
"You shouldn't've done that, girlie."
I don't know if it was his words or fear or what, but I went nuts. I kicked out with both feet and dragged my nails down the side of his face, spitting like an angry cat. He responded by throwing me backwards. My head connected with something hard, a tree, probably, and the world went dark.