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Betrayal's Hands

By: Phineas



This is a long story and should have at least one, but probably two sequels. This story does not contain graphic sex in any quantity - it is about the lives of the characters, not who's bumping uglies with who. That said, there is some adult content to be found herein - but if you're looking for a short read ending in satisfaction, you are advised to find another story.

*

Prologue

Captain Annalyse Promus moved through the ranks of her soldiers, tapping some on the shoulder or arm, or giving others a comforting smile. She did this each time they were soon to be joined in battle, and because of it, she commanded more than their loyalty, but also their hearts.

They were on the western flank of the assault, as they had been many times. Her elder sister, Sharlotta, had organized the assault, a counter-strike by the Free Peoples of Nordlamar against the Kingdom of Aradmath. The two nations had been at war for years, ever since Aradmath had discovered that a group of radical dissidents, folk who had secretly fled their borders some sixty years past had not only survived, but were thriving in the harsh northlands.

"We're going to put those bastards to rout, eh Captain?"

Annalyse forced herself to focus on the soldier speaking. She smiled and nodded to him. His name was Valus, a young man filled with enthusiasm and promise. Her other soldiers did their best to protect him, as he was the youngest in her unit. They were all veterans by now, but even still with the average age of a soldier in the People's army being closer to thirty than his tender age of seventeen, the more seasoned warriors did their best to see to it that one day Valus would make it home to sire a family. 

Annalyse' own age had once been called into question, for she was only twenty and three herself. She had proven herself many times on the field, however, and few questioned any more. Valus was as she had been once, born for the thrill of battle and freedom of the road. As she had many times before, she vowed to keep an eye on him and take him under her wing.

Before she could give more thought to it, trumpets sang their brassy song to the winds and the armies were moving. Annalyse raced to her chariot and drove forth, shield and reins in hand. Her horses, matched in all but color, pranced and jogged, picking up the intensity in the air. Anna's brave soldiers marched alongside her, shields and spears held at the ready. It was a good day for battle.

The vanguard of the People's army clashed into a wall of Aradmath soldiers, sending a concussive wave of sound up and down the line as metal crashed against metal and flesh was split upon sword. Annalyse howled her battle cry, an inarticulate wail which chilled the blood of her enemy. Her soldiers rallied at her cry and charged forward, catching the footmen of Aradmath completely off their guard and neatly slicing into their ranks.

In close quarters, and with spears already blooded, the Nordlamar men and women drew their swords and pressed the attack. Annalyse drove up and down the line, throwing spears from her cache and urging her soldiers on. A few enemies drew close to her from time to time, but those she cut down with either her long bladed spear or the wicked blades set in the hubs of her chariot's wheels.

Suddenly they broke through the first ranks of the Aradmath flank. The soldiers cheered and turned to Annalyse. She looked about to quickly survey the situation, the colors of the kingdom's armies still featured too prominently on the field. She then urged her company onward, turning toward the van where they had planned to strike next to aid the fighters of Red company.

As she moved her chariot into position, the world fell in on them. Hidden Aradmath archers fired upon them, cutting heavily into Anna's forces. The shaft of a black fletched arrow pinned her forearm to the heavy wooden frame of her chariot. Reinforcements rose up out of hidden dugouts in the ground to surrounded Anna's small group. They fought bravely, but in one fell swoop, victory had been taken from them.

Anna's right hand chariot horse went down and the yoke of her chariot dug a deep furrow into the soft ground. She had long since broken off the arrow in her arm and torn free of it, leaving nothing holding her in the chariot. She flew over the front, landing on her back, dazed, before stumbling to her feet. She drew her sword, and circled warily in the maelstrom of combat. She shook her head in vain to clear it and help her focus. From behind, she was struck a glancing blow to the head from the flat of a heavy Aradmath broadsword. Her vision swam and she dropped to her knees, then the darkness took her and she knew no more.

*****

Having both flanking attempts ambushed and defeated, Sharlotta had no choice but to sound the retreat. Another day of savage fighting with no ground gained or lost, only heavy casualties for both sides. It had already turned into a war of attrition between the two nations. Aradmath refused to let them live in peace, something they had sought to do so many years ago by fleeing the kingdom. Shar cursed and gave the order to retreat, refusing to show worry for her sister, even though she had been informed that Anna's company had fallen behind enemy lines. 

Anna was young and not yet a mother, something Shar could not understand. She assumed that the girl had followed in her footsteps, hoping to gain glory as her sister had. What Anna could never know was that Shar would trade all her victories for a life of peace and quiet with her husband and their children back in Argondiir, her home, and the capitol city of Nordlamar.

For now she had a stalemate to deal with, and many men and women that would need healing and a chance to recover from this latest stalled offensive.

Chapter 1

Annalyse awoke to a bucket of dirty water being dumped on her upturned face. She spit and gasped, coughing it up and tried to wipe it out of her eyes. Her hands were bound, however, and she quickly realized she had no idea what had happened to her since the chariot went down. A throbbing ache at her left temple promised some sort of blunt trauma as well.

"Listen up you scum!" A deep male voice growled from her right side. As Anna began to focus, she could see the owner of the voice standing upon a rough wooden platform before them. He was dressed in the trappings of Aradmath nobility. Anna realized, glancing around her, the number of warriors surrounding them gave further evidence of his rank.

"I am King's Baron Makan dep Nathmar, and all of you northern beasts belong to me!" He raged, spittle flying from narrow, cruel lips, as he shrieked at them. "My soldiers captured you in your pathetic attempt to surround the great armies of Aradmath, and for your treachery to Our Kingdom, I should have you all executed!"

His hard eyes grew more narrow as a thought occurred to him. "As a matter of fact," he rasped, "I believe I'll do just that with a few of you, as an example of just how worthless you are," Makan paced up and down the platform, eyeing up the prisoners. Each and every one of them able to do so glared up at him, the seething hatred in their eyes aimed at him and everything he professed to stand for.

"That one, that and that" Makan said, pointing to the three random prisoners that were unfortunate enough to have caught his eye. He chuckled, an insane little sound and smacked his meaty hands together, "Yes, I do believe I will enjoy this. Squashing bugs." He grinned again, drawing more antagonism from his ranks of captives.

"Leave them be, pig!" Anna shouted, struggling valiantly to rise to her feet.

A hulking guard stepped to her side and casually punched her in the face, growling, "Silence! Hold your tongue bitch, or I'll have it cut out!"

"Wait," Makan said, marching over to get a closer look at her. Anna raised her head and glared at him, blood running freely from her broken nose and split lip.

"Who are you that you think you can speak to a King's Baron that way?" He demanded of her, infuriated that a female would have the nerve to question him.

"Annalyse Promus, Captain of these honorable soldiers!" Anna spat blood in Makan's general direction, hoping to draw his rage against her.

"You have spirit, wench, something that I'll not tolerate in my slaves. Perhaps I should have you killed as well," Makan said, eying her and considering his options.

"No, I have a better idea. Bring her up here, Guard." He grinned again, gesturing to the makeshift stage he had had his men build for the executions.

The guard untied the harsh ropes from about her wrists and ankles and dragged her up some stairs and onto the platform. Although her hands and feet were nearly numb from lack of circulation, she fought to make his job difficult. When he tried to strike her again, prepared she ducked the blow and brought her joined hands into the side of his head. The heavy guard stumbled forward and Anna was on him like a cat, scrambling to pull his heavy sword free from its sheath.

Before she could fully commandeer the weapon, another guard had his hand atop hers. His other arm wrapped around her neck and pulled her to him, choking her. Anna managed to sink her teeth into his forearm, drawing blood and causing him to curse in pain. The first guard had recovered then, and tapped her smartly on the head with the pommel of his dagger. Stunned, Anna went limp and fell to the ground when the second guard released her.

"Yes, you definitely need to be broken," Makan muttered, listening the cheering her soldiers were giving her from their bonds.

"Bind her to that pole," Makan ordered pointing to a thick wooden beam that stood as a support for the hangman's noose that hung over head.

Still stunned and unable to comprehend, Anna was dragged over to the timber and lashed tightly to it. She was given no freedom of movement and scarcely enough slack to breathe. Her head hung low from the concussion but another bucket of scummy water flung upon her head helped rouse her. She lifted her head up, eyes squinting from the pain in her head, and turned her venomous gaze upon Makan.

"Watch and learn, you foolish female," Makan said to her, gesturing as three struggling Nordlamar warriors were led onto the deck and secured in various devices.

The first one, a grizzled old woman named Gretta, a pureblood northlander, struggled and spit on the guards who held her. They tied her kneeling and chest down to a stump, with her head laid across it. The second was a man by the name of Marcus, someone Anna had always been able to rely upon for his cool head in battle and keen aim with a spear. His head was placed in the noose and his feet upon another, smaller block of wood. The final prisoner was Valus, the young lad whose eyes were filled with fear.

Upon seeing Valus being tied to another headman's block, Anna's blue eyes grew wide and the blood of fury rushed to her face. "Leave him be, he's just a boy!" 

One of the guards standing next to her slapped her, hard. Her ears rung from the blow, but she used to pain to focus herself. Makan stepped over to Valus and looked down at him.

"Old enough to fight for the treacherous barbarians, old enough to die like one." Makan laughed bitterly, "I've a daughter that looks to be his age," he commented casually, "but I know enough to keep her safe from harm and on the winning side. She sides with those that the Gods favor!"

The guards around cheered and saluted Makan as he smiled triumphantly. "Besides," Makan continued. "I hear you treacherous barbarians let your women fight with your men, another sign of your blasphemy and the disfavor of the Gods. The younger we can kill you beasts, the less chance you have to breed more!"

More cheering ensued. Anna struggled at her ropes, tearing at her skin where it rubbed her raw. She refused to relent, despite of the futility of her efforts. Her eyes were locked with those of Valus, who saw her actions and actually smiled.

Anna stopped, shocked by his expression. Valus' smile reached his eyes and the fear left them. He nodded as much as his positioning would allow, letting her know all was well. He would meet his death with honor.

"What, has the fight been taken from you already?" Baron Makan said, looking at her and sneering. "The priests are right, you women truly are without souls to be cowed so easily!"

His insult was answered with appreciative laughter from his underlings. Anna kept her eyes locked on Valus then slowly turned her head to behold her captor.

"No," she said when the laughter had died down. "I was admiring how much of a man that boy is, more than you will ever be."

Makan's cheeks flushed with anger and he clenched his fists. Angrily he held his hand up to stop the guard beside her from punching her again, then turned to the three captives and, one by one, made the gestures that started the execution in motion. 

Gretta's head rolled across the deck, severed by an axe, and was joined in bare moments by Valus'. Only valiant Marcus took some time to die, twisting and jerking from the rope that slowly strangled him after the guard had kicked the log out from under his feet.

When Marcus was finally still, Makan turned back to Anna and saw the rage in her expression. "Good, I was hoping you had some fight left in you," he told her.

"Untie her and strip her, then tie her where the boy was," Makan demanded.

Anna's eyes narrowed, but she had no choice, as she was approached by three of the heavyset guards. Her soldiers cried out in despair, but were silenced in as heavy-handed a manner as possible. In a few moments, her clothing torn and shredded and laying on the wooden planks around her, Captain Annalyse Promus was tied to the same battered stump where Valus had lain only moments ago. Her cheek was laying in his blood, the coppery scent of it rising to her nose and nearly causing her, a seasoned veteran, to retch from anger and fear.

"Kill me, you pig," Anna taunted him. "Kill us all, else one of us will return and take the precious daughter you spoke of from you. Then we will torture and kill your wife, and then your other offspring. We'll butcher every member of your honor less murdering family until you alone remain alive, then you'll die too."

"Oh," Makan replied, chuckling. His hands moved to his belt and he unclasped it. "I've no intentions of killing you, yet. First you need to be taught your place."

Anna's soldiers gasped in outrage and shock as Baron Makan moved behind her and proceeded with his intentions. She gritted her teeth and forced the tears from her eyes as he thrust into her brutally. His rape was savage and quick, and then he staggered away from her.

Unable to see him, Anna nevertheless spoke in a ragged voice, "That was pathetic, you pig! I would wager that your children are not even your own if that is the best that you can do."

Makan's cheeks flushed again at her crude insult. He considered beheading her himself for her impudence, but a better idea came to him instead. "Have your way with her, men, and keep her alive, but waste no energy being gentle with this heathen bitch!"

He watched for a short while as the guards took advantage of his generosity, one after another thrusting themselves into her broken body in every perverse way possible. He watched her until her pain and hatred began to fade from her face, being replaced by a blank stare. Laughing aloud, he turned to his other prisoners, who had long since been beaten into being quiet. 

"Learn your lessons well, and perhaps you'll live long enough to redeem yourselves in the eyes of King Doremath," he told them. Then he laughed cruelly at the absurdity of his suggestion. He turned and left the field then, heading to his tent.

*****

"My Lord, a carriage arrives from the south bearing your flag."

Baron Makan looked at the messenger, a squire barely in his 14th summer. He squinted, annoyed at the interruption, but rose from his chair and followed the boy from the tent he used as his field office. Sure enough, in the distance he could make out his standard flying from a carriage that approached the camp. He saw a full squad of knights riding with it as well.

"Damnation," he muttered, turning and heading back into his tent. "That fool woman has no business being out here."

"My Lord?" The squire stammered, concerned.

Baron Makan looked at him, surprised to see him still there. "Nothing lad. Go about your duties, I'll tend to my wife when she gets here."

"No, wait," he said, stopping the boy in mid salute. "Take this wretched wench of a slave and put her in a cage outside, just as she is."

"Yes Sire," the boy said, not daring to doubt his leaders wisdom. He expected the slave to freeze, if she were imprisoned naked for very long. They were far to the north from their own warmer lands in the south, so far north that many of them remained chilled around the clock. He did not know how anyone could live in such cold weather.

He went to the woman and grabbed her about the arm. She rose woodenly and followed him as he took her out of the tent. Makan watched her go, his thoughts distant. What would his wife possibly be doing visiting them out here? His mind also went to the vow spoken by the slave girl that he had just banished from his tent; she had said that his family would be killed one by one with himself saved for last. He shook his head. A slave's empty threats, made by one both a savage and a liar and female at that!

Makan chuckled and finished writing the report on his victory over the savages. He put his mark upon it and gestured for one of his servants to fetch him more wine. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and sighed, then begin putting quill and ink to it, writing another report. Makan longed for the days of glory, when his father, King's Baron Nathmar, had been in charge and he had simply led his father's men at arms into battle.

Baroness N'meria ap Makan held out a white gloved hand to the young squire who opened the carriage door for her. With his assistance, she stepped carefully down from the conveyance, mindful not to set a dainty booted foot into a puddle just outside the carriage door. Once both feet were solidly upon the ground, she gestured imperiously that her daughter, Lady T'leren be helped also to step down. Once both ladies were out of the carriage, the squire motioned for the driver to remove it from the center of the camp. Shooting him a disdainful look, the baroness took her daughter by the hand and, dragging her in her wake, moved gracefully to the tent flap. She stood impatiently, waiting for the squire to catch up and open the door, when her eye was drawn to movement just outside the field of her vision. Turning, she gasped in shock to see the heathen woman suspended in the cage. Her gloved hands moved quickly to cover her impressionable young daughter's eyes, but not quickly enough. T'leren had had a good look at the naked, disheveled and bruised woman. The thing that had really struck her, however was the eyes. They had changed from a look of blankness, of uncaring, in a split second to a look of absolute hatred. The girl shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

Their arrival at his tent flap having been anticipated, Makan sighed, and after he made sure they had experienced the cold for a short time, finally bid them enter. His wife brushed in, pushing past the servants and stood glaring at him somewhat impatiently. Makan found himself preferring the sullen brooding of the slave girl, she had at last finally been beaten and abused into her rightful place as his property. His wife, seemingly, would never accept such a role.

"What brings you to such a savage place, lovely N'meria?" Makan said diplomatically, rising to his feet. He paused when he saw his daughter enter the tent behind her, his face flushing in anger, and again his mind flashed back to the vow made by the woman in the cage outside.


Betrayal's Hands



"Why have you brought our daughter to this place? At one time I believed you to have an ounce of common sense. I am finding this more and more unlikely! The battlefield is no place for women, you should return to your salon and your embroidery!" He raised his hand as though to strike her, and she flinched, just a bit, but enough to let him know that she had some fear of his anger. Lowering his hand, he turned away from her and muttered, "I will not waste my strength." 

Turning to the page who stood just inside the tent flap, he growled, "Alert the men, we will be returning to Duth Darek as soon as they can muster." The boy scurried from the tent, hurrying to do his duty.

Shortly, one of the ranking warriors appeared at the tent. "What do you wish to do with the captives, M'lord?"

Makan took a moment to consider. "Load the cages on the wagons, we'll take them back to the slave market and make some money from them. Prepare the brands, and we'll make sure that this is a day they don't soon forget." The Baron laughed, a humorless cackle, totally devoid of human emotion. 

"Lady, you will remain in this tent, and keep your daughter here also. I will not have you mixing with the common warriors, or the slaves. They are dangerous heathens, as like to take off your head as look at you twice." With that the baron stalked out of the tent. He never considered that his orders would be disobeyed. The woman knew all too well which boundaries could be pushed. She would not dare this time.

*****

Anna watched with hatred burning in her eyes as the Baron walked out of the tent to the places where the prisoners were staked. His men were busily readying a single fire, piling on wood, making the embers glow hotter and hotter. One man brought out a strange metal contraption from one of the wagons. It appeared to be a cage of some sort with heavy leather straps on the back of it. The purpose of the object became somewhat clearer when the first of her remaining soldiers was grabbed by two Aradmath warriors, and the cage fitted over his head. The leather straps were buckled tightly to the post behind him, rendering him unable to move his head away from them. Anna frowned, wondering what new torture the Baron planned for them. Her breath caught in her throat, strangling a scream as one of the enemy warriors brought a red hot glowing brand from the fire and applied it to the still conscious soldier's left cheek. The screams and the sickening smell of burning flesh caused spots to swim in front of her eyes. The cheering of the enemy locked into her heart a hatred of these creatures, a burning need to free herself so she could wreak vengeance upon them. Throwing herself at the bars of the cage, she screamed, a primal sound, ripped from her body by raw emotion.

Baroness N'meria and her daughter remained where the baron had left them, inside the tent. At the screaming, the baroness turned pale. She released her daughter's hand, and sank down on the baron's plank bed. The sudden scream from just outside the doorway drew T'leren. She moved, captivated towards the tent flap. Peering out, she saw the crazed heathen woman throwing herself at the bars of her cage, and wondered for a moment what she had done to be put in such a prison. Quickly the sight became too much for her, and she too joined her mother on the cot.

One by one, Anna watched as her remaining soldiers were branded with Aradmath's 'S' for 'slave'. The rope holding her cage was cut, and she fell as the cage hit the ground hard. Pulled from her prison by the two men, she was lashed to one of the posts, and for all her fighting, the cage was placed upon her head as well. 

"Well, my little heathen, perhaps you have not yet resigned yourself to life as my property?" Anna looked up to see the leering face of Baron Makan. "This will be another step to breaking you..." He held out his hand and took the brand from one of his men. "I will personally deliver you into slavery, and it is by my hand that you are mine!" With that, he pressed the burning brand to Anna's left cheek. She screamed hysterically with the pain for a moment, then blissfully passing into unconsciousness.

"I had hoped for more screaming." The Baron complained as Anna slipped from the waking world. "Load her cage onto the wagon. Deliver her to my private playground upon our return to the city, and have her bathed. Even I will only stoop so low." The Baron laughed at his own crudity and went to collect his family for the return journey to Duth Darek.

Chapter 2

"My Lady General," one of the Nordlamar scouts called, hurrying up to her as she walked from one tired unit to another.

Shar stopped and returned the scruffy looking young man's salute before asking, "What news?"

"Captain Promus lives, General," he said, his voice betraying both his excitement and his anger. "As do many of her soldiers. They have been taken prisoner and I witnessed them being branded as slaves. The camp they were in was breaking up as well, I fear they return to Aradmath, to Duth Darek."

"Damnation," Shar muttered, her soaring hopes crashing to the ground. "Which camp? What is their standard?"

"Makan, Lady," the scout said. "His forces were the ones to capture hers."

Shar scowled and looked off in the distance towards the smoke that rose in thin spires from the enemy campfires to numerous to count. The soldier read her mind and spoke without being bidden, "They are far behind the lines, General, they are lost to us for now."

"Damn," Shar muttered again, but nodding her head at the scout's wisdom. After all, he had seen the situation, she had not.

"Send word to the Captains, I want one warrior from each; their sneakiest, dirtiest, most dangerous, and most likely to survive," She told him after a moment. Then she nodded her head, determined in her course. The scout saluted and was off, hurrying to do her bidding.

"Soldier," she called after him, halting him in mid stride. "Refresh yourself first, you've the look of the wild in you."

The scout smiled thankfully and hurried off towards the mess tent, already imagining the wonderful smell of baking bread and stew thick with fish, meat, and vegetables.

"I'll get them back one way or another," Sharlotta muttered to herself after he had gone. "You just hang on, Anna, and don't get yourself killed!"

*****

The caravan rolled slowly up to the imposing stone and wood East Gate of Duth Darek. Sentries posted on the walls had been alerted by the advanced scouts about the arrival of the baron and his troop. Just inside the gates, the caravan split into two, the baron and his family moving towards the wealthier inner city, and the slave cages and the bulk of the soldiers moving south, towards the often times unwholesome auction square and slave pens.

Anna looked out from her cage at the city, trying to note the twists and turns they took as the caravan wended its way through the buildings. The out sections, near the gate, were filled with downtrodden buildings often in need of repair. The further in they went the nicer the buildings and the people looked, being in better repair and growing larger. Soon enough the buildings began to show signs of abuse and neglect again. It was then that she noticed the stink of unwashed humanity mixed with death and decay. The final ingredient in her nasal assault was the bitter sting of lime, no doubt used to dispose of the dead.

Before the slave pens and the auctions square were fully in her sight, a warrior dressed in Baron Makan's livery rode his horse back along the line to her wagon and its escort. "You're to take this one to the house and have her bathed." He ordered the driver and the escort warriors. With a nod, the wagon was turned off, and Anna could only see her soldiers for a moment more. 

They moved along the twisting streets, among the buildings of unwashed grey stone for what seemed like an interminable amount of time. Anna, naked, bruised and dirty, crouched in her cage, trying not to give into self pity. Eventually, the driver of the wagon pulled up and stopped before a large house, as grey and featureless as all the others in this district. Her captors approached the door to the cage, one unlocking the iron padlock with a key from around his neck. She fought them as they dragged her from the cage, but in the end, she was one against many. She was moved, still struggling and kicking, into the house and through the halls to the bathing room. She could feel eyes upon her, but she saw no one as she moved through the building. Forced into the bathing room, she could see a large tub and smell overpowering perfumes. Anna found herself unceremoniously dropped, still struggling into the tub.

Sputtering, she surfaced, only to find herself the subject of a group of strange women dressed in simple robes devoid of any real color. They descended on her en masse, attacking her with brushes and soap, pulling at her hair as they scrubbed at it with flowery shampoo. She attempted to fight back, only to find herself pushed under the water until her breath nearly gave out. When she again surfaced, she was in much more of a mood to cooperate. The women finished her bath quickly and efficiently, washing her everywhere.

Once she was bathed, Anna was wrapped in a towel and returned to the soldiers. The eldest of the women looked to the oldest of the warriors. "Put her in the end room at the top of the stairs. I think you'll find that everything you need is there."

The warrior nodded, turning and gesturing to the others to bring the still fighting Anna. Up the wooden stairs they went, moving along the long balcony past multiple doors. The sounds coming from behind a few of them that had not been properly shut clued her in to the purpose of this house. The door at the end of the hall was opened by the older soldier, and he entered the room, watching the others as they escorted Anna inside. Against the far wall was a large, solid bed with heavy posts on each corner. Attached to each was a chain and manacle. Anna's eyes grew wide as she realized her captor's intent, and she renewed her attempt to escape with vigor. Laughing, her two escorts pushed her down onto the bed, and the free man attached the first of her flailing hands to the appropriate bedpost.

Screaming in anger, Anna swung her other fist, hitting the warrior in the side of the head. His tooth bloodied her fist, but she had the satisfaction of seeing his pain. Quickly, however, the warriors had chained all of her limbs to the bed. One of the younger ones draped a sheet over her naked body, and all three left the room. Anna heard a key turn in the lock, and then footsteps down the hall.

****

Baron Makan led the convoy of his family through into the luxuriant architecture of the inner city. The closer they came to the palace, the larger and more ornate the houses became. They stopped in front of a nearly palatial estate. As the carriage pulled to a halt, the Baron rode back along the lines to speak to his wife. 

"Lady, I will be out for most of the evening, I have several meetings to conduct. Do not wait supper on me." Nodding brusquely, he turned his sturdy horse and rode off towards the city.

The baroness sighed. She rightly assumed that his 'meetings' would be conducted in the gaming parlors and brothels of the outer city. She longed for the days when she held his interest. After the birth of their last child it was rare that he visited her bedchambers, and romance was nearly unheard of even then.

Baroness N'meria let a servant assist her in departing the carriage and looked about, wondering where Karoak was, the Captain of their Guard. He had been the most recent of her servants to sooth her loneliness on many nights and she was beginning to feel particularly lonely again. Of course if Makan would simply remember his love for her she would gladly give up her lover and return to his arms, but it seemed the older and the more influential the King's Baron became, the less human he seemed.

"Lady T'leren, Lord's Baron Darleth dep Katal called upon you while you were out," another servant said.

T'leren's face almost remained impassive. After a very brief pinching of her eyebrows she smiled and thanked the servant. "I shall have a letter sent to him right away," she said, inwardly dreading the experience.

"Nonsense, daughter, you should visit him! Yes, on the 'morrow, I think. A good night's rest and a bath and then we shall head out for there," the Baroness said.

"Shouldn't we wait for father?" T'leren said quietly, hoping.

"He worked hard for this union, of course he'll approve."

T'leren smiled again, hiding her sigh of discontent. She had no interest or desire in the ruthless Baron. Her mother might have high hopes for her, but her mother was a hopeless romantic and a hypocrite. T'leren knew full well that she was having an affair on her father; many of the staff knew of it. In fact, rumor had it that over the years more than a few of their servants had taken their turn at warming her mother's bed.

Yet all the while the baroness proclaimed such virtues as undying love and eternal companionship. Not for the first time, T'leren dreaded her future and wondered what could possibly be worse than to live in such slavery.

An image of the caged woman, naked and shameless, came to her mind then. T'leren shivered and realized that there were indeed worse things. The chains she dreaded were not the ones that the Nordlamarian wore. Then again, thinking of the many nights she had witnessed her mother hiding her tears at her fathers actions, she wondered whose servitude was worse.

*****

Shar stood on the wooden tower and watched as twenty sweat-stained warriors fought against another twenty. She marked several of them as they were defeated. Soon only a handful remained, defenders of the scenario that they had established. It was the fourth one of the day, and she was keeping a list of each soldier's performance.

"Regul," she said, turning to the older sergeant standing near her.

He turned to her and said, "yes, General?"

"Narrow it down to thirty by tomorrow morning, then give them two days off. Keep an eye on them. I only need twenty, the rest are to be returned to their units."

"My Lady," Regul acknowledged, saluting her with a fist to his chest. "I can tell you now who will lead them, he is a scout named Corillius Argondiir. I believe you know him."

Shar nodded. Corillius was her cousin, the son of Bethel Promus, her aunt and her father's, the Speaker's, sister. He was also the grandson, through his father's side, of Argondiir Fireeye, the chieftain of the Nordlandiirs when her people had fled Aradmath in secrecy. They had joined forces and created a new nation. She knew her cousin well, but not as well as Anna did. They had grown up together and fought and played together. He would see her free or he would not return.

Shar watched a moment longer and then turned and walked away. They truly were a dangerous group of people, she admired their skills and their dedication. They could sneak through the sparsest of cover as silently as a shadow, spring up and strike without warning, then be away before anyone knew they were there. She needed them, her sister was in trouble and well on her way to Duth Darek. Her little sister and her brothers and sisters in arms.

In three days they would be on their way to getting them back and avenging their fallen. Shar only wished she could go with them. The mantle of leadership was more responsibility and duty now than it had ever been in her life, and not for the first time she wondered when her duty to her people would be served.

Chapter 3

Corillius bit back the oath he wanted to mutter. It would do no good to his warriors if they saw his spirits flagging, theirs were already running low. They had lost two solid women within the first two days, both felled by spears and bows from trolls in the fens they had crossed. Long a nuisance, the Nordlamarian army had sent a detachment many years ago to beat the trolls back into the fens and try to eliminate them once and for all. It had been thought successful, but now Corillius and his unit knew better.

Once they were free of the fens and within the border of Aradmath the going had gotten easier. Unfortunately they had to move as stealthily as possible, and none of them knew the terrain well. They had all committed to memory the ancient maps of the Kingdom, but an overhead map was of little comfort when skulking through the wilderness in the middle of the night.

Now, nearly three weeks later, they came within sight of Duth Darek. Patrols had been few and far between, with so many of the kingdom's warriors tied up at the border, but now the going was going to get much tougher.

"Captain, them walls is 30 feet tall if'n they's an inch!" One of the soldiers, a short but powerful woman named Marta, hissed, her voice carrying to him in the night air.

"Aye, hope you don't fall if we have to climb them," another soldier named Veera growled; she was Corillius' second in command, a solid veteran of many campaigns.

Some of the others laughed, but Cor shot them a look to silence them. "We go in small groups, if they ask your business, say you are travelers, mercenaries looking for work as caravan guards. Whatever you do, do not claim to be from the northlands! You've cut your hair and changed your clothes to avoid that, do not give it away now! Remember your squads and where to meet up."

They all nodded and then, with another gesture, Cor started them off towards the gates. With no sign of anxiety or nerves, both Veera and two others stood and headed into the town. Because of the Aradmath attitude towards woman Veera went with no weapons, her two male escorts bore them all. They would quickly arm her once inside. Other groups were similarly arrayed as well. It was a gamble, but one they had rehearsed many times.

Corillius dispatched every group until, several hours later, he went in with two women, his pack on his back laden with knives and bucklers, in addition to the longer sword he wore at his side and the daggers in his boots. As with the others, the guards at the gate were lazy and uncaring. Duth Darek was the capital of the mighty Kingdom of Aradmath, what fool band of warriors would dare to assault it?

****

King's Baron Makan did not hear the ringing of his horse's hooves on the cobblestones. He did not see the giggling group of lower house maids returning home with their laundry. His mind had moved on to far more interesting and enjoyable pursuits. Upon reaching the city, he had sent a messenger to invite Lord's Baron Darleth to meet him at his pleasure house. Makan knew that his power and the possibility of his daughter's hand would ensure no refusal of his request. As his horse turned the final corner, he smiled. Darleth stood outside the house, leaning on the gate post. Makan dismounted and handed his reins to the boy who appeared from the stables. 

"Well Darleth, are you ready to inspect my newest acquisition?" Makan clapped the younger man on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him. Together they proceeded to the front door. Inside their cloaks were taken, and a scantily clad young female appeared to lead them to the bathing room.

"I trust you don't mind if I bathe first?" Makan began stripping off his gauntlets.

"Of course not," Darleth replied, his eyes passing coldly over the young slave girl in front of them. There was no passion in his gaze, no admiration, and no lust or desire.

Both men stripped down and let themselves be tended to in the large bathing pools by teams of naked serving women. Makan's treatment of them was chauvinistic and crude, but if any of them had been asked afterwards each would have said they would have far preferred his pinches and slaps to the cold disinterest and cruel look in Darleth's eyes.




Betrayal's Hands



Finished with their bath, Makan led Darleth out of the room, a goblet of wine in his hand and silk robes covering their bodies. He let another serving girl lead them down a passage and into a small room with a bed and a table set with two chairs. A dresser was nearby as well as a small closet. Chained to the bed was the naked slave from the northlands, Captain Annalyse Promus, now simply a slave with no name.

"She was the leader of a band of savages from the north... can you believe it, a woman in charge?" Makan said, laughing incredulously. "How we have been unable to finish them off this long amazes me if they are organized thusly."

Darleth nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps our warriors are loath to strike a woman, since they know the truth of their inferior nature. The soldiers on the front are, after all, mere commoners."

Makan chuckled. "That must be it, the simpletons do not realize that a woman is like a hound or a horse, they need a firm hand to guide them and when they are of no more use, well..."

Darleth nodded, smiling for the first time, "Indeed, there is that. But I find they can have a great many uses beyond mere entertainment. Their political power behind the scenes is impressive, my friend."

Makan shook his head and waved his hand. "Bah, cackling hens is all they are. Men rule the country and the home. I regret only that I have no son to pass my lands to, just a daughter. But she will serve you well, she has been groomed her entire young life for it."

Darleth smiled. "I have no doubt, My Lord Baron. I look forward to the day when our forces can be allied so strongly."

"Now then, back to this savage. She cried out both when I took her and when all of my men had their way with her. She's quite the whore, let me assure you!"

Baron Darleth turned his gaze back upon the woman chained to the bed, her look varying between sullen and openly hostile. "She seems to have some bitterness still within her. It appears you have not driven her spirit from her yet."

"Indeed, I have not. I find it to be a great sport, breaking this one. This is why I chose to have you aid me this day, if you will."

Darleth nodded, "Fine sport indeed." The man was lying, he had little or no interest in the slave bitch, but his grander plans required that he play along with Makan, for now at least. An accident later, after he had married Lady T'leren, and things would be different. Until then...

"Spread your legs, my pretty, and make ready to feel the righteousness of Aradmathian nobility!" Makan said, grabbing cruelly onto the slave's thigh and pinching it between his fingers.

Anna fought, as she always did, but the two of them easily overpowered her, bound as she was. Makan fell upon her first, abusing her as brutally as his short and chubby manhood would allow. She had laughed at him openly at first, which only drew his ire and his fists. She had learned not to respect him, as he had hoped, but instead to hide her disdain and loathing. Which she only managed to do most of the time.

Darleth was next, testing and teasing her. The teasing was not aimed at her pleasure either, for it involved the suspense of not knowing exactly when or how badly he was going to hurt her. Darleth mostly held himself back, content to slap, pinch, twist, scratch, and sometimes pierce her flesh. Makan felt no such compulsions, he would rut away in a more animalistic manner. Finally, Darleth had taken her, true, but it had seemed to her it was not for his pleasure. She had despaired he would ever finish until he had leaned down and bitten her left breast, drawing blood in the process. She had screamed in pain, and that had taken him over the edge. She shuddered again, remembering the look in his eyes when he had climbed from her body. He had enjoyed her pain, far too much, and little else about the rape.

Makan had not noticed his cohort's need to cause pain, he was too busy enjoying the fact that her spirit was being broken. Anna groaned in pain as she attempted to shift herself on the bed. She was truly beginning to feel that very soon she would be broken, in both body and spirit. For a moment she gave into self pity. 

Anna turned her face to the wall, not wanting to watch as the two men dressed and left her room. Each time one of them laughed, it made her flinch, and she hated herself for her cowardice, hated them for forcing it upon her. Eventually, they had tired of their sport, and now they left the room, still laughing to themselves. Only when she heard the key turn in the lock and the footsteps recede down the hall did she look up. Tears filled her eyes, one of which was already swelling shut from a particularly hard blow. Glancing down at herself, Anna winced. Come the morning, she would be a patchwork of bruises. Blood had run from her nose down the side of her face, drying and tightening the skin underneath.

"Oh Shar, I wish I could hope that you knew I lived. I would give nearly anything, if I had it, to see you and father again," Anna whispered after the door had shut. She stared vacantly at the ceiling, fighting the rising tide of despair within her.

Closing her eyes against the tears, she waited for the servants to appear, she expected that they would come to bathe her, as the Baron had let it be known he would return. That thought nearly broke her, she struggled to keep herself under control. She would not let them see her cry. It was all she had left, this resistance.

*****

T'leren nis Makan managed to maintain her composure as she walked through the large house and up the long stairs. Once in the relative privacy of her chamber, however, she gave in to her self pity. Sitting on the edge of her large bed, she sobbed brokenly into her hands. The idea of marrying and being forced to submit to Baron Darleth terrified her. When the tremors and sobbing subsided, she started to wonder if there was any way, short of disappearing, that she could avoid this union. For long moments all types of scenarios flashed through her mind. 

"I'll do it!" she whispered. Moving to her wardrobe, she rifled through her clothes, pulling out her most worn brown work dress. Quickly dressing in it, she braided her hair into a severe knot and tied a scarf over it. Satisfied, she put all of her coins into a small bag which she tucked into the waistband of her dress. Casting a last look around the room, she cracked the door open. Not seeing anyone in the hall, she sneaked out of her room and took the servant's stairs to the rear door of the house. In the waning light of the day, T'leren said goodbye to her life and headed on the quickest route to the East gate of the city. She did not know that as she was leaving the city through the east gate, she passed one of the many groups of infiltrators bent on rescuing Annalyse.

Chapter 4

T'leren strode down the road away from the city. She had never before felt this feeling, this freedom. The day was bright, the sky clear and blue with a faint wind that cooled her skin, and the world lay before her with its multitude of choices.

An hour later, she decided that she was a fool, sitting on a rock at the side of the dusty road to remove her shoe. A blister had formed on her heel and her legs ached. 

"I don't believe the cobbler meant these shoes to take this punishment." She spoke aloud, no one being around to hear her. Staring morosely at her shoe, she tried to decide what to do. Finally, she came to her conclusion, slipping off her other shoe, and tying them together by the ribbon laces. Slinging them over her shoulder she stepped back onto the road. With the dust already coating her toes, she set off again.

It still seemed to be such a wonderful thing, this freedom of action and purpose. As she contemplated her new world a village came into view. Villages this close to the city were all fairly large and in good repair, and each boasted an inn to house travelers who came from far away and wished to spare the expense of city Inns. T'leren entered the outskirts of the village, drawing the occasional odd look from the villagers for being a well dressed single female alone.

Entering the dim common room of the inn, T'leren moved to the bar. She quickly drew the attention of the grim looking innkeeper from where he was stocking several freshly cleaned cups behind the bar.

"I would like a meal and a room for the night," she said, enunciating clearly and respectfully. After all, she was in his world now, even though by all rights she was of far higher station than he.

The barkeep studied her for a minute, a scar on his cheek that ran over across his jaw twitching a little, then shook his head. "No rooms available, miss," he said.

T'leren felt her lower lip tremble. She took a deep breath and calmed it. Behind the man stood a pegboard with several room keys on it. She looked at the keys and then back at him. He shrugged, "Them's all reserved, sorry to say."

T'leren nodded. For a long and precarious moment she considered letting slip who she was, then she would see how fast a room might be made available. Her mouth opened and she spoke, "I see, how far is it to the next town?"

"A day's ride or so, if you head to the west. North outta here will put you half a day or so of walking to Halburg, a right decent little farming town," he said, clearly relieved that she was going to make no issue of it.

T'leren thanked him and walked out of the inn, slipping her shoes back off when she was back on the road. Her blister had split open and was bleeding by now, but even with a limp that cut into her pace, she hope to make Halburg on or before nightfall.

*****

A small group of men and women gathered in the shadows of a tanner's workshop. Among them were Corillius and four others. He looked into the darkened face of each person, judging how their time in Duth Darek had changed them. They were on the edge of the markets, where the slaves were held.

Slavery was a forbidden practice among the Free Peoples of Nordlamar, and the squalor that many of Aradmathian slaves were kept in was unfit for pigs destined for slaughter. Each wore a visage that promised no mercy for any who came in their way.

"I've bribed a few locals for information, and tortured a few others for more," Corillius said, his voice low but meaningful. "Our people are being held in the barn over there, behind the public cages and the stage. They are being fattened up before being sold, as well as being disciplined to make them better slaves."

The squad leaders muttered oaths at this, and Corillius nodded in agreement with their anger. One woman even spit in contempt.

"There are six doors to it: two on our end, the eastern one; a large one for wagons on the south; one on the north; and another two on the western face. We have five groups. Everybody will take a smaller door and once inside, Veera, take your squad to the south and secure that door and try to find a wagon in case some of our people are injured," Corillius said.

"On the way out we'll need a distraction, so Arrik, your squad is to open the other slave cages and set them loose. If we're on a wagon then as many as possible will ride upon it, but if need be every one of us will run alongside to defend it so our countrymen can be returned."

Arrik nodded, the red stubble growing back on his cheeks from the flowing red beard he had been forced to shave to come on the mission.

"Captain," Veera said, looking at the other squad leaders as if to be sure of what she said before it was uttered. "What if we can't get them out?"

Corillius nodded thoughtfully. He had considered the possibility, but in hopes of it not ever reaching that stage he had given it as little thought as possible. "We kill them if they can't fight beside us, and not a one of us to be taken alive. Kill your own warriors if you must, understood?"

Everyone nodded, sobered by the thought that, after coming so far, some farther than they had ever journeyed in their lives, they might die unknown and abandoned. But still, to a Nordlamar citizen, freedom was worth more than life.

"Good, then let's be off. They have a bell that tolls on the hour, by my reckoning we should be in place by the next toll. Go on the last bell."

With not even whispered words of good luck they were gone, sneaking back through the darkness to their squads to relay the orders and to move into position. Corillius nodded in recognition of their skills and attitude. He was proud of them; how well they had come together so quickly. He moved back to his own squad and they moved towards the northernmost door on the east side of the barn.

The bell struck four times and they were rushing the door. The lock was a simple latch that gave with a kick, smashing the door open and startling a pair of sleeping guards awake from a nearby table. Before they could do much more than figure out they were under attack the Nordlamar warriors were moving down a hallway and wiping their blood from their blades.

Elsewhere the other squads met with similar success. So deep within the heart of the Kingdom the guards were lazy and soft. Security was something that protected a fat man's purse from pickpockets, not from attack by a band of highly trained enemy soldiers. In fifteen minutes every Aradmathian guardsman was put to the sword and the building was theirs without any alarm being raised.

The captive Nordlamarians could scarcely believe what was happening to them: they were being freed. They were all hale and hearty, with a few recovering injuries here and there but nothing to stop them from being fully mobile and able to wield a weapon. Corillius looked them over long and hard, looking for Annalyse, but finally had to admit defeat.

"Where is your captain?" He asked them once he had gotten them settled down somewhat.

"That bastard Makan took her," a man said. "They took her to a brothel or something," another woman said.

Corillius' eyes widened and his fists clenched in rage. Anna was a maiden! To be raped and tortured like this was unforgivable! Moreover, she was his cousin. "Where is she?" he asked.

The one that had spoken before shook his head in dismay. "We all love her, captain, and there's not a one of us that wouldn't lay down our lives for her. When that bastard raped her before us all, then let his men have their way with her, we'd any of us have traded places with her in a minute."

Corillius shook his head and glanced away, tears or rage and agony at hearing the news coming to his eyes. "How could this happen?" he wondered aloud.

"She fought back, Sir," another said. "Young Valus had his head put on a block and she spoke out, telling them to leave him alone. When they couldn't shut her up, they beat her and still she spoke out. Finally she'd nothing left but insults for Makan, trying to draw his anger to her instead of the others. She even told him that if he didn't kill every one of us then one of us or someone else would hunt his family down and kill them one by one and save him for the last."

Corillius almost chuckled at the vow. It sounded like something his cousin would say. She was given to speaking her mind and giving in to her temper. "What happened next?" He asked.

"The whore-son killed them and then, right there in Valus' blood, he stripped her naked and had his way with her," she continued, fresh tears running down her face at the memory.

"And you've no idea where she's at now?" Corillius persisted, staring at them all.

"I just heard that Makan had her taken to a private brothel. One of the guards was joking about it," the man from earlier again spoke.

Corillius nodded. "Thank you. Grab what spare weapons you can and clothing as well, then follow my warriors out of here. They'll get you out of the city in small groups, and you'll meet up again in a day or so. If not, my warriors know what to do, but if you find yourself separated head to the north, northwest, and do anything you can to get back home."

"Captain, you're not coming with us?" Veera asked, looking at him.

"I hope to meet you," he said. "But I'll not leave without Annalyse. She's a symbol to the army and the people."

"But Sir, you don't know where she is," Veera persisted.

"I'll find her. Nobody gets left behind, and nobody makes a slave or a whore of a Nordlandiir!"

"Captain, we'll come with you!" Three of the former captives stepped forward, then the rest followed suit.

It made Corillius' chest swell with pride to see the loyalty his cousin had instilled in her warriors. He shook his head and said, "No, we've too many people, I stand a better chance by myself, plus with Annalyse at my side nothing will stop us, you all know what a fighter she is!"

There was some chuckling and cheering, though muted to avoid alerting any passing Aradmathians. The would-be slaves were broken up into small groups and plans were made. By the time the fifth and final toll came from the bell, the building was deserted save for the rats and the corpses.

*****

Makan stood over his latest slave, grinning viciously. A whip hung from his hand and red welts, some bleeding slightly, crossed her body. She had tried to cover herself from his first blows, but that had infuriated him. With the help of some stone faced servants she had been tied to the bed so he could whip her freely.

Now he dropped the whip and stared at her. Tears ran down her cheeks and she lay panting and sobbing on the bed. Her body was covered in sweat and red lines. Makan loved the feeling of power that breaking in a slave gave him, and this one in particular was the best he had ever had.

"Enough foreplay, I think you're ready for me now," he growled at her.

He took off his robe and let it fall to the ground. He untied her legs and nodded appreciatively when they lay trembling on the bed. He slipped up between her legs and grabbed her feet, pulling her legs upwards and displaying her obscenely to him.

"Don't worry, my pretty, this time I'm going to teach you a new way to serve me," he said, watching her closely for a reaction.

Annalyse could handle the pain. It hurt badly, and it made her body betray her and tremble, but her mind could cope with it. Pain was life. It reminded her that she was still alive and that so long as she remained alive so to was there hope. She might one day avenge herself against the son of a bitch that raped her day after day; she might yet see her sister and father and her people again; she might one day return with the armies of Nordlamar and crush the Kingdom.

But the realization of what was about to happen to her struck a chord of terror in her. She felt him brushing against her, seeking her opening and she writhed on the bed, trying to break free. Her body was weak, undernourished and abused as it was. He laughed, enjoying the fight.

Anna's mouth opened and a tortured moan came out when she felt him hit home. He forced himself into her sending a tearing sensation through her bowels. She felt the sudden wetness and knew that something really had torn, for her blood was serving as the only lubricant that would be provided where he was. She shuddered and tried to fight again, but her body was finished.

Makan laughed again as she collapsed under him. She glared at him, tears streaming from her eyes, and then they began to close. He rutted against her, filling her repeatedly. His perverse excitement spared her life, for he was unable to last very long. He grunted and, after a final vindictive thrust into her bowels, he pulled free of her.

"Look at me, slave!" He ordered, slapping her on the face roughly.

The slave opened her eyes and he looked into them, chucking happily. He was somewhat disappointed though, for his sport was over. Her eyes possessed a dull glaze that he had seen in some soldiers who had spent to much time fighting. A thousand yard stare, they called it. She was done, her will was broken. He had broken her at last.




Betrayal's Hands



Makan turned and picked up his robe. He put it about him, wiping himself clean with a linen beside the bed, and turned to the door. He bade a servant to open it and watched as two servants came through the door, one with a pot of water and the other with some cloth to wash the slave with.

Something else caught his eye then, movement in the passage. He glanced up and saw another servant, though this one had a fire in his eyes. Makan gasped, realizing he was no servant, merely someone dressed as one.

Old but still spry, Makan stumbled backwards and took only a shallow cut on his arm from the sword in the man's hand. He backed away and realized that the only way out of the room was through the invader.

Corillius kicked the door shut behind him, glaring at the servants and then at Makan. The servants cowered, hiding as far from him as possible. Corillius advanced slowly upon the older man, sword held in front of him at the ready.

"Untie her!" Corillius demanded of the servants that were huddled near the bed. They looked to each other and the closer one reached up and started furiously working the knots binding her wrists.

The Nordlander waited impatiently. He had seen the way Makan had reacted and he knew the man was a dangerous fighter. He was going to kill him, but first he wanted to make certain Anna was safe. It had taken him very little time to find out which brothel Makan favored, with the help of a few well placed bribes. He still hoped to join up with his warriors before they moved out on the following day.

"Who are you?" Makan asked, trying to prolong things so he would have a chance to turn the situation to his advantage.

Corillius' eyes held a deadly promise for the Baron. "Be silent," was all he said.

"One yell and the guards will rush in here," Makan bluffed.

"I said, be silent!" Corillius again warned him. Then he added, "The sound in these rooms is deadened, there is no escape for you."

"Then I might as well charge you now," Makan said, eyes narrowing as he judged the man.

"Yes, you might as well."

Makan instead stood his ground, waiting to see what might happen next.

"Anna, get up," Corillius said, his voice a little softer.

Anna did not move at first. Then she woodenly got up and, wincing from the torture her body had endured, made her way over to him. She got next to him and stood there numbly. Corillius glanced at her and felt despair. The rag doll standing next to him was not his cousin, just a beaten girl who looked like her.

He turned back to Makan, fresh rage simmering in his eyes. The crafty baron had started to edge towards him but now he backed away again, seeing the big Nordlander's expression. Cor advanced on him, sword held at the ready. Makan held his hands out and low, a submissive gesture but also a stance that would let him spring quickly if he needed to. Blood dripped from Makan's right hand from the earlier graze.

Makan lunged as Cor raised his sword. Then younger man turned easily and drove his fist into the back of the other man's neck while he kicked out with his foot, tripping him. The baron crashed to the floor, grunting and cursing in pain. He turned his head and tried to get up, displaying a broken nose with blood gushing from it. Cor's foot stepped on his back, pushing him back down to the wooden planks of the floor.

"This woman you have tried to destroy once promised you a fate," Corillius said, sheathing his sword and then grabbing on to Makan's neck and picking him up. The Northman threw him down on the bed so that the blood from his nose mingled with the blood already staining the sheets from his most recent and devastatingly brutal rape of Annalyse.

"I'm going to personally see to it that it comes true," he hissed, picking up the whip from the ground. "But first, here's a little taste of what you did to her!"

Cor ripped the robe from the beaten baron's body and struck him repeatedly with the whip, making the man grit his teeth from the pain. Corillius spared no strength, he flailed the man mercilessly, with each lash drawing blood.

Finished and panting from the effort, Corillius reversed the grip on the whip and introduced Makan to the receiving end of a brutal intrusion like that which he had inflicted upon Annalyse. Corillius stepped back, breathing hard and glaring with murderous fury at the man who was reduced to sobbing and groaning in agony on the sheets.

"Bind him!" Corillius demanded of the two servants. Having seen what he had done to a member of nobility, they hurried to obey. In moments Baron Makan was bound fast to the bed.

"Now one of you take off your clothes and help this lady dress in them."

After looking at each other one of them took off the skimpy rags they were forced to wear and tied them on Anna. Corillius then grabbed up Makan's robe and threw it over her shoulders.

"I meant what I said," Corillius said to the two servants. "And I came here all the way from the north. I found her, and I found her warriors. They are all free now. If you untie him I will find out and I will return to treat you to a worse fate than what is in store for him and his family!"

The two servants nodded, terrified of the large Northman, and cowered once again as far from him as they could. Corillius opened the door and, after looking out it, he led the still docile and uncaring Anna out into the passage.

In the early hours before dawn, escaping both the brothel and the city proved easier than he would have imagined. His return trip, once Anna was safe, would be equally simple he suspected.

*****

Despite Makan's ranting and raving, the two servants fled the room after Corillius and Annalyse left. They did not even stop by their beds in the servants' quarters, but instead fled out of the brothel and into the city. They had no idea where to go, but they were terrified of Corillius and had no desire to incur his wrath after what they had seen.

Thus it was that, of all people, Baron Darleth was the one to come and find Baron Makan in his predicament. He had hoped to call upon the man that next day to discuss some political shuffling he had been considering, and discovered that he had not returned home. So, naturally, he figured the Baron was still being entertained by his slave. With a new servant to show him his way, Darleth's surprise was considerable to see the man positioned as he was.

A chuckle broke from Darleth's humorless lips. Makan's body tensed, and he renewed his struggles against his bonds.

"Who's there?" he queried nervously. His only relief came from the fact that the handle of the whip had fallen free of him many hours ago.

"I see that your slave found a way to escape you and turn the tables, my Lord." Darleth's voice was full of humor. 

"Darleth? Is that you? Release me!" Makan's voice gained strength as he realized that it was not the return of the northlander. He flapped his arms and tried to turn his head to glare at the younger man who seemed to be taking his time in working the ropes.

Darleth grinned then, a frightening thing with little of humor in it. He quickly realized that this was most likely the best thing that had ever happened and would ever happen to him in his lifetime. Not only would he possess Makan's daughter, he would hold this over Makan's head for the rest of his life. He moved to release the older man's wrists and ankles from the ropes and wrap him in a loose sheet from the bed. 

"How long have you been like this?" he asked, once Makan was upright and feeling a bit more in control. 

"Moments, hours, I don't know. It was full dark when the northman attacked me to save the whore, what is the hour now?"

Darleth turned his head to the side so that Makan would not be able to see the smile that tried to move his lips. "It's late afternoon, after four bells." He replied.

Makan groaned. "They'll be long gone from the city by now." He didn't mention to Darleth the repetition of the threat to his family. The only power he had now was in keeping information to himself.

"They're northern savages, lucky, apparently, but no match for our forces," Darleth assured him. "Come, let us away and have our private guard immediately set after them. I have some excellent trackers amongst my men that have been denied the ability to hunt anything other than wild game for too long."

Makan nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" he hissed, hastening to the door.

"A moment, My Lord Baron," Darleth said, turning to the serving girl who had, through a miraculous effort of will, kept her face neutral throughout the exchange. Darleth motioned her closer to him and smiled at her.

"You will not speak of this... to anyone," he stated as well as asked. She shook her head emphatically. Of course she would have to tell some of the other slaves, news of this nature would have to be shared, but the nobles must not know of it.

Darleth nodded and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her to him before she could yelp in surprise or protest. He buried his dagger in her belly, point facing upwards to pierce her lung and heart. She struggled in his grasp for a few moments then slumped, dead.

"Of course you won't," he said, smiling softly at her. He turned to Makan, his eerie smile still in place.

"We must keep this little incident to ourselves," he offered by way of explanation. "Imagine what could happen if news of it were to get out."

Makan shuddered and nodded. He thought Darleth to be on his side, but he also wondered if perhaps the younger baron had just made a veiled threat as well.

The two men hurried out of the brothel, stopping only so that Makan could change back into his clothes. They gathered up their horses and rode off in separate directions, each gathering their private guards and meeting at the northern gate by the toll of the fifth bell.

At the older baron's house he hasted to ready his men, ignoring the pleas of the Baroness to talk to her. She seemed addled, but he was otherwise occupied. Finally she stepped in front of him and slapped him, gaining his direct attention.

Enraged, Makan backhanded her and sent her stumbling to the ground. "You foolish wench, I'm on important business! Whatever you want can wait!"

Stunned, with tears running down her cheeks, the Baroness stared at him for a long minute. He turned to storm out of the room before she found her voice.

"T'leren is missing, My Lord."

Makan stopped as soon as the words registered. His mouth dropped and he gasped imperceptibly. "What do you mean, missing?"

"Your daughter is gone, no one knows where. None of the guards or servants saw her leave, but she's not here," she said, her voice gaining strength and anger.

Makan closed his eyes and felt hopelessness sap his strength. Already the Northlander's oath was coming true.

"What of D'lariana?" He asked, turning to face her and feeling shame for his treatment of her.

"She is in her rooms, protected by your guards, My Lord," the Baroness said, clipping each word curtly.

Makan walked over to her and helped her up. "We should not have struck one another," he said softly, by way of apology. "I must tend to these affairs, I suspect it might bring T'leren's disappearance to light. I will return as quickly as I am able. We will talk more then."

She nodded, a part of her overjoyed to hear his words and hoping that perhaps things might come back around for them. "Be safe, husband," she whispered as he turned to leave. He paused, nodded, and then hurried out to his horse and his awaiting troops.

Chapter 5

Corillius looked over at Anna. She was slumped over the saddle on the horse he had stolen for her. He weighed the options, deciding quickly that Anna's health was worth the added risk of stopping early for the night. She had not spoken a word since he had removed her from Makan's brothel, and he was becoming increasingly worried that her spirit had been truly and irrevocably broken.

He reached out and touched her knee. She looked up and jerked her leg away from him. 

"Anna, honey, we're going to stop for the night." Cor said softly, trying his best not to feel hurt that she rejected his touch. She merely looked blankly at him and then turned her head away.

He led the horse into the woods by the side of the road, going in far enough so that their fire would not be seen by patrols who might be looking for them. He found a tiny clearing that backed into a huge evergreen tree which would provide them with natural shelter.

Cor reached up to pull Anna from the saddle. She whimpered and pulled away from him violently as soon as her feet hit the ground. She stumbled into the hip of her horse, gripping the back of the saddle for stability. Cor sighed and backed away, allowing her space.

He moved off to begin building the fire and gathering wood to keep it going through the night. Brushing up the leaves and supplementing them with pine boughs, he built a nest for their bed, spreading it with his cloak and the blanket he had stolen with the horse.

Anna leaned against the horse, fighting for control. Somewhere, deep inside her mind, she realized that Cor wasn't going to hurt her, that he would never consider doing the things that Makan and his friends had done to her. It did not matter. Her reactions to him were uncontrollable.

"Come and sit over here Anna, I've made a place for you." Cor motioned to the bed he had prepared, relieved when she took his direction and moved over there. She lay down on the softness, rolling herself up in the blanket. "I'll watch your sleep," he said softly, knowing that for her, the night would likely be filled with nightmares. He moved over to the fireside and wished that he knew what to do for her. 

'I hope that the People's healers will be able to help her.' He thought to himself as he sat staring into the flames.

Several hours later he heard her whimper in her sleep. He longed to go to her and comfort her, as they had once done for each other as children. Simply to hold her and assure her that everything would be okay. He almost got up and did it, but then realized that it could go so terribly, horribly wrong.

Cor stood up instead and moved off into the night, telling himself that he was keeping a proactive watch against pursuit, but in reality he needed to put distance between himself and her fearful cries that he could not help.

"You will suffer for this, Makan," Corillius vowed quietly as he leaned against a tree. "I will avenge Anna and deliver more unto you for the pain you have caused my nation with your inhumanity!"

*****

Night was falling quickly as T'leren walked barefoot down the road to Halburg. The nighttime noises were frightening to the girl who had never spent a night outside of her own bed, never mind outside in the wild. As she followed the road, she began to hear horse's hoof beats coming up the road behind her. She listened as they approached, and she realized that there were a number of horses approaching, and the jingling she heard indicated that they were armored war-beasts. Panicked that her father had found out where she had gone and come after her, she turned and ran blindly into the woods. 

She ran, crashing through the underbrush, running into branches that tore at her skin and her clothes. Her panic caused her to run blindly, stopping only when she fell to her knees after tripping on a large root. With tears of pain in her eyes, she looked up only to see a fire in the near distance. Her instincts warred with her fear of the forest at night, and making a decision, she approached the fire quietly, glancing around for anyone who might belong to it.

"Well what have we here?"

T'lerin gasped, turning around and trying to see where the gruff voice had come from. Something heavy dropped to the ground behind her, making her spin again. She stepped into a thorny bush and yelped in pain. Trying to back away from it only landed her on the ground.

The man leaned over her, his features hidden by the forest green cloak he wore and the growing darkness of the night. She did see the cruel looking dagger he held in his hand, however.

"On your feet, dearie," he barked, gesturing at her menacingly.

T'lerin stood up slowly, cringing both in pain and in fear. All sorts of horrible possibilities raced through her mind.

"That's a good girl," the man said. "Now where's your guards? Who rides with you... er, well, where's your horse or carriage?"

"I'm alone," she said, terrified by the man and also terrified that he might find out who she really was.

He laughed. "If that's true, then you're a fool, girl!"

"Now walk towards the fire, I'll be right behind you so don't you think of trying nothing!"

T'lerin nodded and moved past him, limping heavily from the abuse her feet had taken. In one of her falls she had lost her shoes as well, promising her no reprieve. In a matter of moments she walked, captive, into a small clearing where several men were lounging around a campfire. Some were drinking, others were eating venison from a small deer that was roasting on a spit over the fire. Others still were working on their equipment or playing dice. They all were rough, shoddily dressed, in varying levels of personal hygiene, and all suddenly very interested in her appearance.

"Who's this?"

"What'd you find, Sven?"

"Entertainment!"

A few other, less savory things were called out upon her entrance, but Sven, the man that had her at knife point, just grinned at them all for a long minute. "She just ran into the camp like something was after her, says she's all alone, she does!"

There were some bawdy cheers and a few suggestions as to what to do with her. A few of the men stood up and moved closer, making T'lerin shrink back. She backed into Sven, and felt the point of his knife against her back.

"Careful there lass, there's no need for you to be getting yourself hurt," he said, chuckling.

"What can you do for us?" A man with a scar running across his cheek and chin asked. The skin around it gave his expression a permanently leering affect.

"Aye, what skills have ye?" Said another man who was missing some teeth and had breath that a dog would find upsetting.

"Who cares!" Another man said, earning some laughter from a few of the others. He had a nose that had been broken a few times too many. "She's got all I want hidden under that fancy dress of hers!"

"And she'll learn right quick the skills to use 'em too!" Another man hopped to his feet beside the broken-nosed man. 

"I found her, I get her first!" Sven said behind her, putting his knife away excitedly.

T'lerin's eyes were wide and she was gasping for breath. She was terrified. It was as if every bad thing she could have imagined had come true at one time, in one place. She swooned and fell to the ground, passing out from her fright.

"Well where's the fun in that," broken-nose said.

"She's still breathin', that's enough for me!" Sven said, kneeling down beside her and putting his hand on her leg to tear her dress.

"Stop!"

The bellowing voice caused them all to turn and clear a path. A giant of a man walked through the aisle, looking down at the woman and frowning.

"She's a noble, you fools!" He snapped, turning to look at them all. Sven, the closest backed away quickly.

"Boss, she said she was alone and she walked into our camp," he said, hoping to get his prize back.

"Then she is a fool," he said, repeating Sven's earlier words. "But that does not mean we will harm her."

"Boss, what else are we going to do with her?" Sven said, nearly whining now.

"Wake her up... gently," he ordered.

T'lerin was repositioned on the ground and lightly slapped across the face, bringing her around. She looked up at all the staring faces and realized her nightmare had been the truth, she truly was doomed.

Then she saw the largest and perhaps the ugliest face she had ever seen. He towered over the tallest of the other bandits by at least a foot. His eyes were sharp but he had teeth that were yellow stained, large, and in the case of his canine teeth, pointed and reminiscent of tusks. The firelight flickered in his eyes, reflecting their pale yellow color. T'lerin whimpered in fright and nearly passed out again.




Betrayal's Hands



He knelt down next to her and looked at her, amazing her more with his size. He was surely strong enough to break a tree in half with his bare hands! He sniffed a couple of times and then stared at her face. Finally he spoke in a voice that was as deep as she had expected it would be, yet the rumble of it still made her gasp.

"What's your name?"

"T-" she started. She realized she did not want them knowing who she was or even that she was noble. T'lerin was a noble name, and letting them know it would give them power over her. "Teri," she said, hoping he would mistake her hesitancy as a frightened stutter. It would not have been so far from the truth.

He frowned. "You wear a fine dress and fine jewelry, Teri, who's daughter are you?"

T'lerin knew that he did not believe her. Terrified, she knew that she could only plunge deeper into the deceit. "No one important... I am a servant."

"Ha!" He barked, laughing scornfully. "You do not wear the clothing of a servant. Your hands and your feet would not be so soft either. You are noble."

She shook her head, tears of fright spilling from her eyes.

"Tell me who to send the ransom note to and you'll be spared the affections of my men," he said, encouraging her. Then he grinned, terrifying her with his sharp toothed smile. "Sven here seems to have a crush on you."

T'lerin could not stop the trembling of her chin, the tears continued to flow and she sobbed as she struggled to bring in breath enough to speak. The giant scowled at her, scaring her further.

"Crying won't do you any good, my pretty. Sven here likes it when his women cry... but some of the others prefer to hear them scream."

She gasped and hiccupped, closing her eyes and shaking her head, hoping to make it all go away. His hand, a meaty fist as big as her face, grabbed her jaw and pinched it mercilessly to silence her. "Speak, wench!"

Her mouth opened and she muttered the first thing that came to her mind, "tutor!"

His hand fell away and he leaned back some. "Go on," he urged her.

She took a ragged breath, pulling herself back from the precipice of madness, and continued with her lie. "I tutored children, I taught them numbers and how to read."

The man chuckled. "Well boys, we've got ourselves a smart woman on our hands!"

Many of them grumbled in return, a few chuckled nervously, not knowing what their leader had in mind. He laughed sharply before saying, "Here I thought no such thing existed!"

That brought laughter and cheering from the rest of the bandits, even Sven. "Can I have her now, boss? She's worth nothing if that's all she is."

"She's mine, Sven. I'm taking her. I don't believe her, yet, but we'll see. Until I'm sure I don't want any of your filthy paws on her, you hear me!" He said, turning his malefic stare upon them all.

"But boss, I found her!" Sven whined, pushing the issue when he knew he should not.

The large man grabbed T'lerin's hand and yanked one of her rings free. He stared at it, noting the small colored gemstones set in the gold, and then tossed it to Sven. "That's for your troubles, now get back on watch!"

Sven stared at T'lerin for a minute longer, his gaze promising her what would happen if he ever had the chance, then he turned and skulked back into the woods.

The leader reached down and picked Teri up. He threw her over his shoulder easily, frightening her with his raw strength and size, then turned and walked out of the firelight and over to where he had his bedroll set up beneath a crudely constructed lean-to made of pine boughs.

He dumped her unceremoniously on the ground and knelt next to her, tying a rope around her wrists and then around a tree. For safekeeping he tied another rope around her ankles, hobbling her.

"Now tell me about yourself, Teri," he said, picking up a large chunk of venison from the ground and flicking some dirt off of it before biting in. Juice ran down his chin, making Teri squeamish but also reminding her of how hungry she was getting.

Teri had no choice but to sink deeper into her lie, inventing and struggling to remember everything she created about the person that she was masquerading as.

*****

"My Lords, our scouts have returned and found few signs," a worried soldier said to Barons Makan and Darleth.

The two Barons stood in the morning air that was beginning to grow chilled with the onset of fall. Makan was staring at the lands that unfolded before him, looking to the north as though if he looked hard enough he could pierce the distance to find his quarry. Yet, in truth, he did not know for certain if they went to the north. Still, his instinct told him that was right, and seldom was his instinct wrong.

"Few signs are not no signs. Tell us what they discovered," Darleth said. Makan remained staring to the north, his bones chilled beyond the morning air.

"He brought this back, My Lord."

Makan turned and nearly choked when he saw the broken and torn slipper. It was his daughter's, he had no doubt of it. He had never noticed it before, but it was clearly of quality fitting a noble lady.

"Where was this found?" Darleth asked, his voice growing cold.

Makan ignored the look Darleth sent his way, desperately hoping that the baron would not understand the link.

"Near Halburg, My Lord, a few hours ride away. They found it in the woods but could find nothing else save a campfire that was abandoned. Whoever left it covered their tracks well, but the scouts think there were many of them."

"Then look again, fool!" Makan snapped. "Move the men that way, clearly they must not have gotten far."

The soldier saluted and hurried away. Darleth turned to Makan and studied him for a moment, searching for some telling sign. Makan shook his head slightly in disbelief of the unfolding events, then turned to stare hatefully to the north again.

"Why would the soldier find T'leren's sandal near Halburg, Makan?" Darleth asked quietly, although intently.

"I've no idea whose sandal that is," Makan said, not bothering to look at him.

"But I do," Darleth persisted. "It is one of her favorites, she wears it often. I ask again, My Lord, why would T'leren's sandal be found so remotely?"

Makan turned, his expression one of an exhausted man. "She took her," he said. He shook his head and looked anywhere but at Darleth. "The northland bitch told me that if I did not kill her and every one of her so-called warriors that they would be back to hunt down my family and destroy every last one of them, leaving me for the last."

"That's why I found you trussed up like a pig," Darleth said, nodding thoughtfully. "It seems they mean to make good on their promise."

"And my daughter is already gone. I have another, Darleth, and she'll be glad to have someone as powerful and wise as you, don't worry!" Makan said, trying to sound convincing and to keep Darleth his ally.

"No body has been yet found," Darleth said. "We must assume they mean to use her as a hostage until they can escape the Kingdom."

"We will find them," Makan said, suddenly filled with hope and conviction. "I'll not let my daughter suffer in the hands of such barbarians!"

"Indeed," Darleth said, seeing opportunities opening for him before his very eyes.

Chapter 6

Anna's moans and whimpers came with more regularity as dawn approached. Suddenly she let out a shriek and sat up in her bedroll. She saw Cor sitting near the fire looking at her with pity, and turned her face away from him.

'I'm so weak. He should just leave me here to die.' She thought to herself. She crawled up out of the pine bough bedding and moved off into the woods to relieve herself. The whole time she was alone, she shook and stared around her, wondering when the attack would come. Mentally berating herself for her cowardice, she hurried back to the camp. She would admit that although she could not bring herself to face Cor or let him touch her, she felt better in his presence.

"Are you feeling any better today, Anna?" Cor asked, genuinely concerned, both for her welfare and for the speed it would allow them. He worried that if Makan had managed to escape, the search parties would be well on their way to catching them. Cor had tried to circumvent that somewhat by heading west from the city and taking a longer route to sympathetic Nordlamar cities, but he still worried that they would send parties this way. 

Anna flinched when Cor spoke, not looking in his direction. She walked to a stump near the fire and sat huddled, as though she could not get enough heat. As Cor moved closer, her shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably. He stopped a few paces away and set down a tin mug of tea and a chunk of bread with nuts, meat, and fruit baked into it for her breakfast.

"We have to get moving Anna. You know the risks if we stay." Cor made an effort to avoid mentioning Makan's name to her, knowing that it would cause her pain.

When he moved away, Anna snatched the travel ration, wolfing it down and washing it away with the tea. Cor had already saddled the horse, and she moved to it, resigning herself to the fact that he would have to lay hands on her to help her into it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she reached up for the saddle horn. 

Cor reached for Anna's waist, lifting her into the saddle quickly. His heart broke a bit each time she whimpered. 

"It's OK Anna. We'll get moving." He took the horse's lead rope and made his way back to the road. Setting as fast a pace as his legs would let him, he headed out towards the west.

The following days were much the same. Anna seemed unable to come out of the protective shell she had built around herself. Cor gave her the space she seemed to need, all the while growing increasingly angry at what had happened to her. They traveled long hours, tiring the horse as well as Anna and Cor, and they slept only as much as they had to.

"The pack on your horse holds a Kingdom sword," Cor informed Anna after they had been traveling for over a week. Both were weary, but they were coming up on the fens that ran along much of the border between Aradmath and Nordlamar. The marshy lands were full of things best left undisturbed.

"We were harried by a tribe of trolls when we came through to rescue you and your warriors," he explained, continuing because she showed no response to having heard him. "We must expect more of the same heading back through."

Still Anna showed no response, but she did reach behind her and unerringly find the sword in the rolled up bundle behind the saddle. Cor nodded and smiled faintly, it was good to know that some of the old Anna was still there.

Anna, for her part, was looking forward to a confrontation with something not human. She hated Makan with a passion, but she was also terrified of him. It made no sense to her, and she knew she needed to get over her fear, but the thought of him made her tremble at times still. Maybe a troll would do her the favor of ending her miserable life.

The next day, at mid-morning, they entered the fens. A haze surrounded them, thickening the further in they went. Her horse whinnied nervously, catching scents of things unfamiliar and entirely unwholesome. The sound of his hooves splashing into the growing puddles was muted by the thick air, yet both riders knew that sound carried far into the distance.

The ground fell away from them gradually, leaving the horse to wade through water nearly halfway up his legs. Cor gripped the stirrup so that the horse could help him through the bog. The horse snorted and shied often when a splash would sound somewhere in the distance. Then Anna was nearly unseated when the horse reared up under her. Directly ahead of it something large and sinuous swam beneath the surface of the water, rippling the surface with it's passing. Only Cor's weight on the stirrup kept the animal from bolting.

"That's why I'll take a steady chariot or a ship any day," Cor muttered, having settled the horse back down enough to continue. "They're predictable and dependable, not skittish!"

Anna ignored him, peering into the depths and silently challenging something to attack them. More than challenging, begging. 

An arrow whipped past Corillius startling him with how close it was. He cursed and ducked low beside the horse. "Anna, get down!" he hissed, moving forward into the mists.

By the hand of the Gods alone Anna was uninjured. Arrows flew around her, three striking her horse and making it scream in pain. He cursed and moved back, coming up alongside of his hesitating charge, and grabbing the reins from her.

"Ride, cousin!" He snapped, flipping the reins and urging the horse forward. Forced into action, Anna crouched low over the mane and let the horse surge forward, its pain and panic putting it into action. More arrows came at them, but they quickly fell behind. Then Anna's horse collapsed under her, sending her sprawling in to knee deep water. She came up spitting and coughing out the tepid water.

Cor, following behind, ran up to help her. Cor patted the horse reassuringly, as he would a soldier. It was breathing hard, as though it could not get enough air, and the foam at its mouth was flecked with blood. Cor nodded to himself and pulled his sword, giving the horse a merciful death.

"Leave me," Anna said, making Cor turn back to face her, surprise on his face.

"What?" He asked, elated that she had spoken but concerned about what he had thought he heard her say.

"Leave me, I'm no use to you, I'll only drag you down, get us both killed."

Her defeated tone upset him more than her words did. He walked over to her and stared at her face, and felt even more rage when her head dipped down and her eyes stared at the muddy water.

"Men and women died for you, Captain," he spat out, urged to slap her to knock some sense into her but knowing better than to try it, in her condition. "Don't let their sacrifice be for nothing!"

He turned and pointed at the path into the fens "Get on that path and move, the People need you. Our people! If anyone stays behind it will be me, giving you time to return. Even if you've lost your nerve, they need you if we're to fight this war!"

She sniffed and started walking towards the path, obeying him. Cor clenched his fists in anger. The old Anna would have yelled back at him. She would have fought him kicking and screaming for saying such things. He despaired that she might forever be broken.

Heavy splashing alerted him a moment before a lumbering figure emerged from the mists. Cor pulled out his sword and slashed out, cutting the crude spear that had been thrown at him in half. He couched low as the troll drew a club and charged. The troll was larger than he was by two heads, and more suited to fighting in the swamp. Anna could see more of them emerging from the mists as well.

"Run, fool woman! Get back to Nordlamar!" Cor cried, dodging the first powerful swing from the troll and using his longer Kingdom sword to cut into the tricep of the troll.

It howled in pain and dropped its club into the water. It tried to back away but Cor lunged forward, sword striking it in the belly and digging in deeply. He backed away as the other trolls slowed their approach. 

Cor glanced behind him and saw Anna standing next to the path. "I can fight, you can not! Run or I'll kill you myself and save the trolls the bother!"

Anna shrank at his rebuke. He hated to say it to her, but it had the desired effect. She turned on the path and started running. Three trolls surrounded Cor and two more tried to reach her but she was moving then. She was away, fleeing again as though possessed.

Cor circled slowly, waiting for an opening. The trolls were wide and possessed long stringy arms. As such only the three could surround him, though he expected that was more than enough. He dodged a spear thrust, then ducked under a club. The third troll grazed him with his spear, making Cor grit his teeth at the line of fire that had suddenly flared across his lower back.

He spun and grabbed the spear behind the head with his free hand, pulling himself into the troll's reach. He held his sword out as he turned, cursing the longer length of the Kingdom weapon. It cut a shallow wound in the trolls arm and chest, however, making the troll let go of the spear and back up a step to draw its club.

Cor turned rapidly and thrust the spear out, catching the other spear wielding troll in the stomach and stopping its advance instantly. He yanked the weapon free and thrust blindly out at the third troll, coming nowhere near him but buying him time.

Cor turned again in time to see a club swinging in at him. He tried to slip the blow but grunted in shock and pain when it crashed off of his shoulder. His arm went numb and he dropped the spear in the water from unfeeling fingers.

The man lunged forward, instead of falling back as a sane warrior might. He dropped his other shoulder into the troll's midsection, rocking the larger creature back a step. He fell to his knees then in the water, feeling the wind whistle over him as the troll tried to grab him with its free hand. He thrust up with his sword and was rewarded with the hot and coppery splatter of blood upon him.

He yanked the sword free in a sawing motion and turned to face the remaining troll. The other two had given up their pursuit of Anna and were returning as well.

"Alright, let's get this over with," He muttered, not knowing if they could understand him or not. He pointed at the one with the club with his sword and nodded. "You die first!"

The troll sneered at him and spat out something in a guttural voice at him. The flowing language was beyond Corillius' ability to understand, but the tone and gesture were not.

Cor heard the splashing from the other two trolls running towards him. He cursed and threw his sword at the troll he faced. It brought its arms up and tried to dodge the blade, which deflected harmlessly off its arms, and then felt Cor shoulder slam it in the torso as well.

This troll was not off balance as the other had been. Cor was knocked back into the water, once again on his knees. He was where he wanted to be though. He reached down and his fingers gripped mud. A second grab and he found the spear he had dropped earlier. He grabbed it and waited for the troll to raise its club high above him.

Corillius lunged upwards, driving the spear from the water up and into the chin of the troll. His left shoulder ached but some of the feeling was returning to his arm, allowing him to steady the spear with that hand as the wooden point pierced the bone and brain of the swamp troll.

He turned to see the other two trolls come to an abrupt stop and then look at each other. The spoke to each other briefly then split up, each one coming from a separate direction towards him. Corillius cursed. These last two seemed smarter.

Then he heard the splashing in the distance again of something approaching. The trolls laughed and Corillius had a fresh reason to curse. He was running out of ideas and weapons, plus his shoulder was beginning to really ache with the return of feeling to it. Thinking about his injury he again felt the flare of the cut across his back as well.

Something came charging out of the mists, surprising Cor and one of the trolls. The other one could not see it, but it felt it when it bumped into it and sent it stumbling. Then it felt Anna leap onto it and latch onto its back, her hands going around its neck to hold on.

Anna bore the troll to the ground, keeping her head above water by driving its head under it. She put her hands on the back of its head and drove her knees into its lower back. The troll thrashed under her, much stronger normally, but unable to get any leverage with her repeated knee strikes on its spine and kidneys.

Cor seized the initiative, stepping up to the other troll that was stunned by the turn of events and using his spear to send the troll's spear into the water. He stabbed forward next, but the troll was on the defensive and ready, and was able to dodge the blow. The troll knocked the next lunge aside, and tried to close with Cor. He stepped back quickly; swinging the sharpened point across in front of the face of the troll and making it pull back. He thrust again, feinting and fooling the troll. He drove it home after the troll's missed parry, making the creature howl as the six foot shaft of wood sank several inches into its thigh.