Lady’s army marched north, stopping where they could to trade for additional food and supplies for the march using gold from the treasury. The children of the towns and farms would follow behind the war horses, laughing and singing as they idolized the soldiers, and dreamed of their own adventures. Spirits were high during the early days of the march.
Unseen by the playing children and trading folk were the advanced scouting parties, sent ahead of Lady’s army. Lady believed that even this deep into the Dukedom there may be agents of Mardok among the shadows, perhaps even skirmishing parties waiting for opportunities to strike on unsuspecting villages. Her scouts would find them.
Lady convened with her officers one quiet evening in the command tent, discussing likely holdout’s for Mardok’s host beyond the borders of the Dukedom. The topic moved on to masking the army’s movement as they entered the wild when Lady began to feel light headed. She doubled over in sudden pain, her hand rising to clutch the left side of her chest.
“Lady!” Sir White rushed to her side to assist her, but she waved him off as she steadied herself.
Lady let out a long breath before rising back up, fighting to regain composure. “Don’t worry, Sir White,” she murmured. “It’s nothing that can be helped. The shard just digs sometimes.”
She returned her attention to the officers. Sir White could swear that her violet eyes had shown just a bit brighter for a moment, as though self-illuminating, but shrugged it off as play of the candle light.
Sir White attempted to focus on the discussion at hand, but his mind remained elsewhere. His own village had been among the first stricken by the terrible monsters of Mardok, when he had just begun his career as a member of the Duke’s Guard. He had not been on duty when the Duke was assassinated, but still he never forgiven himself, feeling he could have made some difference had only he volunteered for watch. He took a silent vow to protect the children of the Den, to redeem himself. But now politics had demanded he leave Wolf’s safety to others back at Lucern, and the safety of Lady’s own life seemed out of his influence.
He shook the terrible thoughts of disasters to come and fought to return his attention to the strategies being debated.
Several days passed without incident. Camp had been set for the evening and the army relaxed, men and woman gathered around fires telling their tales. The guards of the forward perimeter were enjoying their brew when a shadow emerged from the trees. They scrambled for their weapons until the scout emerged from the shadows, his garbs spattered with mud.
“You scared us half to death,” one of the guards laughed in relief.
The scout did not pause, continuing past the guards into the camp. The guard peered into the woods from which the scout had emerged, searching the shadows as though something were missing.
“Where are the other two?” he said, turning once more, but the scout had already disappeared into the heart of the camp.
Lady emerged from her tent as the distant commotion grew closer. A host of men tailed behind the scout as he approached, all begging questions to him without respond. Lady stepped forward.
The scout knelt before her, bowing his head as he spoke. “My Lady, I have urgent news.” He then stood and met her gaze. “We’ve spotted skirmishers, a full party of boned archers. They aim to march on a village near the border.”
Sir White emerged from his own tent during the scouts report and took a place beside Lady.
The scout continued, “My comrades remained behind so that I could return to you. They will do their best to harass and distract the enemy, but we fear they’ll be upon the village by the sun’s setting tomorrow eve.”
“Thank you,” Lady said with a nod. “Take a moment to rest your feet and feed yourself, then return to me.”
The scout bowed his head once more and turned, disappearing into the gathered men.
Lady turned to Sir White. “I need a party of riders saddled up as soon as possible. We must be swift. I will leave the army to you for the duration of my excursion to continue the march.”
“Begging your pardon, my Lady, but you’ll not be getting into a fight without me beside you.”
Lady opened her mouth as though to protest, but thought against it. There were other capable captains who could be trusted to march an army, and there was a reassuring feeling that her comrades would refuse to leave her side.
“Very well, report when the men are mounted.” She turned and re-entered her tent to don her armor once more.
The company rode through night and day, pushing their mounts as they desperately tried to intercept the skirmishers before they could do any more damage. They came to the foothill below the village as the sun set once more, slowing their pace as they neared without sign of attack. A sense of unease lingered in Lady’s mind, a foreboding which had been with her since noon’s passing.
The scout rode up beside Lady. “We should have encountered them by now. My comrades are not the kind to leave these matters to chance.”
Lady’s chest began to ache, a sudden soreness as though her wound had only been made the day before. Her hand instinctively moved to her heart and while attempting to calm it her mind flittered with strange whispers. The illegible noises danced in her mind alone before dying out.
Arrows flew through the air, striking one rider and another’s horse, tossing the second rider into the air as his mount flailed to the ground wrenching Lady from her inner thoughts.
“Ambush!” Sir White called out. The company drew their weapons and pressed their mounts forward.
Chaos erupted around her as spiders descended from their perches in the trees, their eyeless riders drawing fresh arrows as javelins from Lady’s men flew out and met their marks. The sound of metal against bone drowned out her world as her men rallied into battle. Lady fumbled for her sword as she came crashing back to reality. Her sword freed from its sheath was immediately thrusted into the thick hide of a spider that wandered too close. She pulled her sword free from the arachnid as the rider jumped from its mount and drew its bow back for a shot at Lady, it’s first having missed its fast target. Lady raised her shield to block the shot, simultaneously jabbing her sword forward, the blade settling deep within the ribcage of her attacker. The tip found its mark, severing the spinal column and the tie that kept the bones animated. They became abruptly heavy as the corpse fell to the ground, pulling Lady off her mount as the sword failed to pull free.
Sir White’s blade found itself lodged deep within one of the many eyes of a stray spider mount, ending its life. As he freed his blade, swinging at the next opponent who stood in his way, his mind was clear and focused. He had been bitten on his shoulder, but luck would have it not on his sword arm. His blade swung true, hacking a skeleton down. With the foe dead, he managed to lay eyes upon Lady. She fought without mount and was slowing down from exhaustion, her body not as strong as the men under her command. She seemed unaware of her condition though as she swung her sword, severing an opponent in two. Her violet eyes struck him; they were burning with an intense light, the look almost inhuman and full of fury. The surreal image was interrupted as an arrow struck her, in the upper shoulder.
Lady screamed, her body being thrown back by the force of the painful bow. She spiked her blade into the ground, her hand tightening upon the pommel to steady herself. Stable in her stance, she turned with her blade up to meet the source of the arrow. At that moment she knew that this was the skeleton general who had struck her down those many turns of the moon ago. A smile struck Lady’s face as the idea of revenge entered her mind in a dark whisper. Without further thought, her training and a strength unknown to her took over, and she charged her mark.
The general stood his ground, several arrows notched upon the string of his bow. He let them fly, streaking at Lady with lethal speed. Two hit her, one in the arm and the other slicing open her side, but they did not slow her. She leapt over the body of a fallen spider and swung her sword at the unflinching general. His speed was impressive, having already notched another arrow, but he was not quick enough. Lady’s blade turned down and hacked off his arm, causing the arrow to fly stray past Lady’s ear. The general now defenseless raised his remaining arm to catch Lady’s blade. A pointless effort, as his bones snapped against the steel blade, and in his final moment he was aware of Lady’s blade connecting with his clavicle as she decapitated him.
A pile of skulls rested in the middle of the field, Sir White tossing in one last head. “Three to one,” he concluded. “They had never intended to attack the village.”
Lady looked upon the pile with scorn. She had been the sole target, and good men had died this night because of it. She stood there in contemplation for some time as the fit tended to the wounded, unsure of just how long it had been since the last blow was struck. Finally she departed from the pile, grabbing a shovel to begin digging graves for those who’d fallen, a duty which felt almost ritualistic to her.
She was broken out of her trance when a hand came to her shoulder.
“Come Lady, it is your turn to be stitched up, let someone else take the time to honor the dead.”
It was Sir White, his shoulder was bandaged and the bruises of fighting had begun to pepper his skin.
“I’m fine…” Lady trailed off, still bothered by the sounds she had heard moments before the fight.
“No, you’re not. You had to break off two arrows earlier, and-” Sir White pulled at the bloodied tear in Lady’s tunic, where during the battle an arrow had grazed her deeply, and beheld that her skin was whole and perfect beneath.
“Don’t mention this to a soul,” she said firmly as she continued her digging. “Is that understood, Captain?”
“Yes, my Lady.” White said in bewilderment. But the moment passed, and with his senses returned, he found himself a shovel and helped Lady dig. The roots of the forest were thick, and proper graves would take time.
After a few minutes of silent digging Lady finally murmured, “Before the fight I could hear something…” She hesitated, wondering why she was suddenly telling Sir White this possibly compromising information.
“Hear who, the monsters?” Sir White looked up at her and then quickly back down to avoid looking like they were having a conversation.
“I don’t know…” Her voice trembled with uncertainty as she confided in him. “I couldn’t understand it, but it terrified me to my core. It led my mind amiss, and I could not focus.”
There was nothing White had to offer to console her. The level of fear in her voice revealed just how terrified she was of the incident. “Do you think it is the shard?”
“Yes.” This was the only thing Lady was sure of. “It’s doing things to me…I don’t know what, but I need you to take an oath for me.”
“Of course, my Lady.” Sir White responded without hesitation.
Lady had stopped digging, her violet eyes staring directly into White’s with such an intensity that he was sure that she was looking past him and into his very soul. “If I should stray from my path, if my heart should turn to darkness, promise you will end my life.”
His chest twisted as he heard her request, thinking how he would protest. He couldn’t do what she had asked him. She was just a child.
And yet, here she was. Sir White could see in her eyes that she was no longer a child. She had somehow past him in age, and he could not deny her request.
“I swear it, my Lady” White whispered though dried lips.
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