Post by Charlie Brown on Dec 3, 2011 16:05:08 GMT -5
Things were doing well enough for the plans that had been discussed before she’d left the city to join this unless march to save a people that were beyond saving. She’d pointed that out in a much nicer way but Cauldwen would have none of it. They were his wife’s people and while his wife was most likely dead he still felt this duty to these people. She of course couldn’t let her irritation show and she hid it perfectly. She’d been a royal once upon a time, playing people was something that was in her blood. And she couldn’t complain too much. The sex was fantastic. He was strong and possessive in bed and in that she didn’t mind giving in to that power under the furs.
She sat atop her war horse wrapped in furs against the cold and snow. He teased her at night at her aversion to the snow and the cold. She was a fan of summer and warm breezes off the ocean. She did well enough, and kept her complaining to private at least.
Pulling her horse to a stop she turned in her saddle, looking back at the line of troops making their way through the mountain passes. This was dangerous and a ripe place for an ambush if these orcs that Cauldwen had told her about decided to attack. She’d never faced these foes and the warrior side of her spirit was eager for a confrontation while the tactician in her dreaded something of the sort in this pass. Her horse gave a nervous whicker, dancing a few steps from side to side and she quieted it with a pat of her hand against its neck. What did the animal know that she didn’t.
Pushing her hood back off her head, the wind wiped stray strands of blond hair that had fallen free of her ponytail around her face. She turned her eyes up at the stone walls that stretched overhead then back along the line and forward. Standing in her saddle she gave a whistle, getting Cauldwen’s attention before riding in his direction.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
~~
Cauldwyn glanced up as the whistle echoed off the mountain passes stony walls, the sun was at its highest point of the day but its light was obscured by gray clouds that theeatened to rain snow down upon them. The only thing worse than being caught in an ambush is these mountain passes was getting trapped by a snow storm in them. They wouldn't last long if they didn't make good time through it.
Cauldwyn clucked his tongue and reigned his horse into a quick canter as he rode up the line of weary infantry and cavalry, pulling his horse to a stop as he trotted in beside Andraia. Cauldwyn said nothing at first, his eyes scanning the horizone and the peaks of the mountains and the distant opening that would eventually feed them into a valley, from there it was a much less strenuous march into Attavar (although technically everything east of the pass was part of Attavar, including the valley).
Cauldwyn's breath was caught in the air.
"You sense it too?" It was more of a statement than a question. The one eyed general turned his gaze back down the line. "Our recently acquired mage predicted an ambush. If I were to plan one, this is where I would do it." He said, his hand absently thumbing at the hilt of his sword, cold in the winter air.
To the enarest officer Cauldwyn barked an order "be ready for an ambush, tell the men that when we reach the valley, we'll make camp and I'll have ale for every man in the best damned legion in the empire."
The news was passed down the line and were met by cheers from the men who crashed their swords on their shields as a sort of soldier's applause.
Cauldwyn shifted in hus saddle as he turned his eyes back to Andraia draped in her furs, as most others were. Cauldwyn himself wore a simple cloak of hides and furs about his shoulders, his stony face impossible to read, at times it was as thoughhe didn't feel cold or pain. Andraia certainly kept him warm most nights, though the old general knew he should abstain, he couldn't help but allow her to return night after night, much like his wife had been, she was an engaging woman, a warrior, a strategist. He was in some ways captivated, though it was impossible to guess at what thoughts when through his head.
"they'll attack before the sun begins its descent" He commented idly to Andraia
~~
More of her life had been spent as a warrior so it was to those instincts that she fell to now. He asked if she sensed it and she nodded once. She could feel the adrenaline already starting to flow through her blood, making her shift in her saddle again as she pulled her horse up tight and controlled, the animal picking up on the change in its rider. She took a deep breath of the cold air, letting it roll over her tongue as though she could taste the impending battle on the air and in a way she could.
“Just seeing this stretch of the pass and I don’t need a mage to predict and ambush for me. It’s to perfect. The high walls make this as easy as shooting rabbits in a cage. With the sun overhead we’re blind to seeing anything on those ridges.” She didn’t like this one bit though for all of her talk she still looked calm in her saddle, only her horse gave away the change in her body.
She flinched at the sound of swords on shields. She knew he was just trying to keep moral up but the sound echoed and made it hard to listen for falling rocks or any other tell tale sign of things to come. Looking back to the general beside her she nodded in agreement. “Do you have any men that know the lay of these passes? If so some scouting would do us good.”
Even with the threat of a battle looming so close to them she could see the way he eyed her. She smiled at him, that secret smile that he so often saw late at night. Beyond that his thoughts were hard to read and she hated that. As much as she had gotten under his skin, she still hadn’t cracked the shell of the man. That was proving harder than she’d anticipated.
~~
Cauldwyn nodded at the comment about the signing blinding them from firing at the overhanging ridge. They'd be like corralled cattle for any archers that had made their way up there as they almost certainly had. he shifted again in his saddle, his mouth tight set, eyes hard and piercing as he took in the lay of the land. He seemed to consider her question for a moment, yes, there were scouts, two infact, but one was completely untested in the field and the other had chosen a different path than that of his people. The rest of the Pathfinders hadn't been heard from since Cauldwyn had sent them through the pass a month previous before leaving to join the king at Eldenur. Cauldwyn nodded once again. To an officer at his right hand, he spoke quietly
"Bring me Thrand and the wilder elf." It was then that his eye caught a figure silhouetted aaginst the sun on the ride. His voice boomed out over the clamor of armored men marching in unison. "BATTLE FORMATIONS!"
Instantly the men sprang into action, in the close knit passageway there was little they could besides put themselves in a square formation, their shields forming a barrier on all sides. The first arrow plunked into the ground at the feet of Cauldwyn's horse. Andraia seemed forgotten for the moment as Cauldwyn began shouting orders pulling his horse into the centre of one of the square formations. Then ti began to rain, arrows were falling from above every which way, thudding into shields and inflicting little damage, here and there a man suffered a grievous wound.
Then a mass of cries broke the day as the sun began to dip, from the hill in the road f the Orakhan came streaming over the crest their savage battle cries rattling some of the untested warriors, one soldier, barely a man, turned at the sight, fear wild in hi eyes, but he stopped as a bracing hand on his shoulder stopped him, the soldier turned to see the general, his outstretched hand touching him.
"Hold fast, son." he said, the man nodded and gulped as he turned back to the screaming horde. Cauldwyn's voice once more ringing out "Hold this spot like it were home, NOT ONE STEP BACK"
As the Orakhan charged the soldiers began to take up their own version for a war cry, their crashing smashing on their shields drowning out the sound of their voices and then suddenly they were smashing into their lines and the cries of men sounded mingled with steel on steel
"Hold the line!" Came Cualdwyn's voice once more as he joined his troops on the front line, standing beside the soldier whom had just tried to run, and then he was face to face with an Orakhan, his wicked long sword slashing out, only to be parried by Cauldwyn would loosed his fist into the face of his opponent, the wet smack of his nose breaking resounding as Cualdwyn leveled the Orakhan back with a kick to the chest.
Unlike their genetic cousins, the orcish races, the Orakhan were a cut above, they had intelligence that rivaled that of any human, their culture was ancient, warlike, tribal, but complex, intricate, as were their tactics as Andraia was now finding out. Now that the infantry were engaging the 7th legion on the ground their archers were having better luck downing his men with arrows.
"I Want those archers taken out, bring up the yeomen!" his voice called out as he cut down another Orakhan soldier. He moved amongst the battle delivering death to any unfortunate soul who crossed his path, he seemed in synch with the he ebb and flow of battle as though this was where he was meant to be. For the first time he noticed Andraia fighting next to him, distracted for that brief second, Andraia ran an Orakhan through as his sword slashed out, intent on felling the general. Cauldwyn offered a curt nod and then he was engaged again, the battle joined n full.
~~
Knowing that a battle was coming and having it actually break upon the lines was something completely different. There was an energy in the air as everything started to happen at once. The figure outlined by the sun, the guttural call and the sound of arrows in the air. Her horse screamed as an arrow embedded in its flank and she was turning it, looking back to the line as the sounds of wounded men rang in the air.
Her voice was strong as she called out for the men that had come with her when she’d joined with the 7th Legion. There were four in total, all tall and muscled. They came riding in, forming up on her sides. Just seeing the five of them together it wasn’t hard to tell that they’d fought together before. Like the veterans of the legion that formed the strong front line of battle, these four men and one woman were veterans of a war of their own when they were less than free men.
She called out to the lines as they road behind the forming battlement. She called encouragements just as Cauldwyn did. She might not have been their leader but she was still a knight and she was a leader of men. Her sex had nothing to do with it now. In the heat of battle a woman could die or fight as well as a man.
When the Orakhan fell on the line she moved alone it, watching for places that it might break. Cauldwyn was off to her left in the middle of the fray when the line started to buckle in front of her. “HOLD THE LINE!” She yelled, her horse screaming as it reared when an Orakhan came through and charged her. The horse started to fall but her feet were already out of the sturps and she was vaulting off of it with sword in hand. The blade cut through armor and flesh as one, black blood splattering across her armor before it fell. She moved into the line where it had broken, her men moving with her. They rallied the men around them, they pushed them forward till they were all crying battle cries of their own. She heard the names of cities, of women, of the 7th legion, and all manor of words. She heard the cries of her men as they screamed obstinacies in the tongue of their old home.
She and her four moved like one creature with five heads. They didn’t even look at each other and still knew where the other was. Their movements and skill spoke volumes of how long they’d been fighting together as the battle raged around them.
~~
The battle was in full pitch, The Orakhan having thrown everything they had at their lines, but the mountain pass made it less than effective as a dozen men could hold off an entire legion for days with spears and shields. Their saving grace were the archers who rained death from above. Cauldwyn fought as the lines formed up around him, Andraia moving about with her own retinue, helping where she could. His own officers doing likewise.
A scream broke the sound of battle as an Orakhan came hurtling from the cliff, followed by another and another, Cauldwyn backed off the front and into the centre of the square formation where he cupped his hands over his eyes, blocking the sun and looking up to the overhang where he could now see the Pathfinders making quick work of the Orakhan archers.
He could see the Orakahn infantry started to buckle as their archers came crashing down ontop of them. Cauldwyn lifted his sword, then thrust it forward shouting "FORWARD" The men began crashing their swords on shields as the column moved inexorably forward, Orakahn dying on their shields and swords if they attacked. Without the support of their archers the Legion was free to lower their shields and turn their focus solely onto the infantry without having to worry about arrows from above. Their Orakahn began to panic, a few turned to run and soon it had turn into a full on route.
"Loose the Cavalry!" he called and a hundred and fifty horses thundered by the column chasing down and slaughtering any Orakahn they could catch. Cauldwyn's heart was still pounding, his blood in his head. Slowly he came down from the high of the battle and the hand holding his sword began to shake, he sheathed it and stilled his hand, the heat of battle was almost a drug.
Cauldwyn turned to take inventory of the damage done, all things considered they had fared quite well, only a dozen or so were dead a few others with serious injuries.
Andraia was walking towards him, he turned to her.
"Many generals don't trust the pathfinders, or their skill" he commented as he watched them use ropes to shimmy down the overhang. "Only a fool wouldn't want men and women with such impeccable timing" he said, as close as he ever came to being humorous.
Culluhn was making his way towards the pair, he and Cauldwyn grasped one another's forearm and released.
"You cut it a bit close, Captain." Cauldwyn said wryly and the Pathfinder chuckled.
"You always said I had a flare for dramatics." he commented.
Cauldwyn nodded and added "get your men to the back of the column and get them something hot to eat." Cauldwyn's eyes shifted back to Andraia, finding it hard to stop his eyes from roaming the length of her body.
"You fight well." he said sincerely. Cauldwyn never offered a disingenuous compliment.
~~
She was a vicious fighter, as were the men that fought beside her. She didn’t fight with a shield, at least not in this instance. Instead she used two swords, short but with board blades. They where death in her hands, as she stood the line. The Legion men to her sides gave her protection from the arrows until she stepped forward into the rush of orcs. There was a blood lust in her eyes, a memory of battle that raged into her eyes. Her men were at her back as she hacked and slashed forward until there was nothing but orcs around them in the tight passage of the wall.
It wasn’t until a body landed with a heavy thud on one of the orc she was fighting did she realize that the tables had turned and the orcs were retreating. She let out a rush of air, her armor black to the elbows in the blood of the enemy. The calvery took chase and one horse passed so close to her that it kicked up the lose strands of blond and blood stained hair but she didn’t flinch more than her gloves tightening around the hilts of her blades before she passed them off to one of her men before turning to survey the damage.
She pulled her gloves off as she walked, pausing beside the body of her dead horse and sighed with a note of irritation. It had been a good horse but she’d find another. It wasn’t the first to be cut out from under her in battle. Continuing she made her way toward Cauldwyn she could still feel the heavy beat of her heart in her ears. It was the first time most men, even Cauldwyn had seen her truly fight. She’d spared with the men but from what they’d seen, she held back. He knew where she’d come from, he knew bits of her past and knew that fighting had been the bulk of her life. I showed today.
“Today I’d say their skill is commendable.” She said as she turned her head to watch the men and women descending. “Sadly I don’t know much about these Pathfinders. I think that needs to change.”
She sat atop her war horse wrapped in furs against the cold and snow. He teased her at night at her aversion to the snow and the cold. She was a fan of summer and warm breezes off the ocean. She did well enough, and kept her complaining to private at least.
Pulling her horse to a stop she turned in her saddle, looking back at the line of troops making their way through the mountain passes. This was dangerous and a ripe place for an ambush if these orcs that Cauldwen had told her about decided to attack. She’d never faced these foes and the warrior side of her spirit was eager for a confrontation while the tactician in her dreaded something of the sort in this pass. Her horse gave a nervous whicker, dancing a few steps from side to side and she quieted it with a pat of her hand against its neck. What did the animal know that she didn’t.
Pushing her hood back off her head, the wind wiped stray strands of blond hair that had fallen free of her ponytail around her face. She turned her eyes up at the stone walls that stretched overhead then back along the line and forward. Standing in her saddle she gave a whistle, getting Cauldwen’s attention before riding in his direction.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
~~
Cauldwyn glanced up as the whistle echoed off the mountain passes stony walls, the sun was at its highest point of the day but its light was obscured by gray clouds that theeatened to rain snow down upon them. The only thing worse than being caught in an ambush is these mountain passes was getting trapped by a snow storm in them. They wouldn't last long if they didn't make good time through it.
Cauldwyn clucked his tongue and reigned his horse into a quick canter as he rode up the line of weary infantry and cavalry, pulling his horse to a stop as he trotted in beside Andraia. Cauldwyn said nothing at first, his eyes scanning the horizone and the peaks of the mountains and the distant opening that would eventually feed them into a valley, from there it was a much less strenuous march into Attavar (although technically everything east of the pass was part of Attavar, including the valley).
Cauldwyn's breath was caught in the air.
"You sense it too?" It was more of a statement than a question. The one eyed general turned his gaze back down the line. "Our recently acquired mage predicted an ambush. If I were to plan one, this is where I would do it." He said, his hand absently thumbing at the hilt of his sword, cold in the winter air.
To the enarest officer Cauldwyn barked an order "be ready for an ambush, tell the men that when we reach the valley, we'll make camp and I'll have ale for every man in the best damned legion in the empire."
The news was passed down the line and were met by cheers from the men who crashed their swords on their shields as a sort of soldier's applause.
Cauldwyn shifted in hus saddle as he turned his eyes back to Andraia draped in her furs, as most others were. Cauldwyn himself wore a simple cloak of hides and furs about his shoulders, his stony face impossible to read, at times it was as thoughhe didn't feel cold or pain. Andraia certainly kept him warm most nights, though the old general knew he should abstain, he couldn't help but allow her to return night after night, much like his wife had been, she was an engaging woman, a warrior, a strategist. He was in some ways captivated, though it was impossible to guess at what thoughts when through his head.
"they'll attack before the sun begins its descent" He commented idly to Andraia
~~
More of her life had been spent as a warrior so it was to those instincts that she fell to now. He asked if she sensed it and she nodded once. She could feel the adrenaline already starting to flow through her blood, making her shift in her saddle again as she pulled her horse up tight and controlled, the animal picking up on the change in its rider. She took a deep breath of the cold air, letting it roll over her tongue as though she could taste the impending battle on the air and in a way she could.
“Just seeing this stretch of the pass and I don’t need a mage to predict and ambush for me. It’s to perfect. The high walls make this as easy as shooting rabbits in a cage. With the sun overhead we’re blind to seeing anything on those ridges.” She didn’t like this one bit though for all of her talk she still looked calm in her saddle, only her horse gave away the change in her body.
She flinched at the sound of swords on shields. She knew he was just trying to keep moral up but the sound echoed and made it hard to listen for falling rocks or any other tell tale sign of things to come. Looking back to the general beside her she nodded in agreement. “Do you have any men that know the lay of these passes? If so some scouting would do us good.”
Even with the threat of a battle looming so close to them she could see the way he eyed her. She smiled at him, that secret smile that he so often saw late at night. Beyond that his thoughts were hard to read and she hated that. As much as she had gotten under his skin, she still hadn’t cracked the shell of the man. That was proving harder than she’d anticipated.
~~
Cauldwyn nodded at the comment about the signing blinding them from firing at the overhanging ridge. They'd be like corralled cattle for any archers that had made their way up there as they almost certainly had. he shifted again in his saddle, his mouth tight set, eyes hard and piercing as he took in the lay of the land. He seemed to consider her question for a moment, yes, there were scouts, two infact, but one was completely untested in the field and the other had chosen a different path than that of his people. The rest of the Pathfinders hadn't been heard from since Cauldwyn had sent them through the pass a month previous before leaving to join the king at Eldenur. Cauldwyn nodded once again. To an officer at his right hand, he spoke quietly
"Bring me Thrand and the wilder elf." It was then that his eye caught a figure silhouetted aaginst the sun on the ride. His voice boomed out over the clamor of armored men marching in unison. "BATTLE FORMATIONS!"
Instantly the men sprang into action, in the close knit passageway there was little they could besides put themselves in a square formation, their shields forming a barrier on all sides. The first arrow plunked into the ground at the feet of Cauldwyn's horse. Andraia seemed forgotten for the moment as Cauldwyn began shouting orders pulling his horse into the centre of one of the square formations. Then ti began to rain, arrows were falling from above every which way, thudding into shields and inflicting little damage, here and there a man suffered a grievous wound.
Then a mass of cries broke the day as the sun began to dip, from the hill in the road f the Orakhan came streaming over the crest their savage battle cries rattling some of the untested warriors, one soldier, barely a man, turned at the sight, fear wild in hi eyes, but he stopped as a bracing hand on his shoulder stopped him, the soldier turned to see the general, his outstretched hand touching him.
"Hold fast, son." he said, the man nodded and gulped as he turned back to the screaming horde. Cauldwyn's voice once more ringing out "Hold this spot like it were home, NOT ONE STEP BACK"
As the Orakhan charged the soldiers began to take up their own version for a war cry, their crashing smashing on their shields drowning out the sound of their voices and then suddenly they were smashing into their lines and the cries of men sounded mingled with steel on steel
"Hold the line!" Came Cualdwyn's voice once more as he joined his troops on the front line, standing beside the soldier whom had just tried to run, and then he was face to face with an Orakhan, his wicked long sword slashing out, only to be parried by Cauldwyn would loosed his fist into the face of his opponent, the wet smack of his nose breaking resounding as Cualdwyn leveled the Orakhan back with a kick to the chest.
Unlike their genetic cousins, the orcish races, the Orakhan were a cut above, they had intelligence that rivaled that of any human, their culture was ancient, warlike, tribal, but complex, intricate, as were their tactics as Andraia was now finding out. Now that the infantry were engaging the 7th legion on the ground their archers were having better luck downing his men with arrows.
"I Want those archers taken out, bring up the yeomen!" his voice called out as he cut down another Orakhan soldier. He moved amongst the battle delivering death to any unfortunate soul who crossed his path, he seemed in synch with the he ebb and flow of battle as though this was where he was meant to be. For the first time he noticed Andraia fighting next to him, distracted for that brief second, Andraia ran an Orakhan through as his sword slashed out, intent on felling the general. Cauldwyn offered a curt nod and then he was engaged again, the battle joined n full.
~~
Knowing that a battle was coming and having it actually break upon the lines was something completely different. There was an energy in the air as everything started to happen at once. The figure outlined by the sun, the guttural call and the sound of arrows in the air. Her horse screamed as an arrow embedded in its flank and she was turning it, looking back to the line as the sounds of wounded men rang in the air.
Her voice was strong as she called out for the men that had come with her when she’d joined with the 7th Legion. There were four in total, all tall and muscled. They came riding in, forming up on her sides. Just seeing the five of them together it wasn’t hard to tell that they’d fought together before. Like the veterans of the legion that formed the strong front line of battle, these four men and one woman were veterans of a war of their own when they were less than free men.
She called out to the lines as they road behind the forming battlement. She called encouragements just as Cauldwyn did. She might not have been their leader but she was still a knight and she was a leader of men. Her sex had nothing to do with it now. In the heat of battle a woman could die or fight as well as a man.
When the Orakhan fell on the line she moved alone it, watching for places that it might break. Cauldwyn was off to her left in the middle of the fray when the line started to buckle in front of her. “HOLD THE LINE!” She yelled, her horse screaming as it reared when an Orakhan came through and charged her. The horse started to fall but her feet were already out of the sturps and she was vaulting off of it with sword in hand. The blade cut through armor and flesh as one, black blood splattering across her armor before it fell. She moved into the line where it had broken, her men moving with her. They rallied the men around them, they pushed them forward till they were all crying battle cries of their own. She heard the names of cities, of women, of the 7th legion, and all manor of words. She heard the cries of her men as they screamed obstinacies in the tongue of their old home.
She and her four moved like one creature with five heads. They didn’t even look at each other and still knew where the other was. Their movements and skill spoke volumes of how long they’d been fighting together as the battle raged around them.
~~
The battle was in full pitch, The Orakhan having thrown everything they had at their lines, but the mountain pass made it less than effective as a dozen men could hold off an entire legion for days with spears and shields. Their saving grace were the archers who rained death from above. Cauldwyn fought as the lines formed up around him, Andraia moving about with her own retinue, helping where she could. His own officers doing likewise.
A scream broke the sound of battle as an Orakhan came hurtling from the cliff, followed by another and another, Cauldwyn backed off the front and into the centre of the square formation where he cupped his hands over his eyes, blocking the sun and looking up to the overhang where he could now see the Pathfinders making quick work of the Orakhan archers.
He could see the Orakahn infantry started to buckle as their archers came crashing down ontop of them. Cauldwyn lifted his sword, then thrust it forward shouting "FORWARD" The men began crashing their swords on shields as the column moved inexorably forward, Orakahn dying on their shields and swords if they attacked. Without the support of their archers the Legion was free to lower their shields and turn their focus solely onto the infantry without having to worry about arrows from above. Their Orakahn began to panic, a few turned to run and soon it had turn into a full on route.
"Loose the Cavalry!" he called and a hundred and fifty horses thundered by the column chasing down and slaughtering any Orakahn they could catch. Cauldwyn's heart was still pounding, his blood in his head. Slowly he came down from the high of the battle and the hand holding his sword began to shake, he sheathed it and stilled his hand, the heat of battle was almost a drug.
Cauldwyn turned to take inventory of the damage done, all things considered they had fared quite well, only a dozen or so were dead a few others with serious injuries.
Andraia was walking towards him, he turned to her.
"Many generals don't trust the pathfinders, or their skill" he commented as he watched them use ropes to shimmy down the overhang. "Only a fool wouldn't want men and women with such impeccable timing" he said, as close as he ever came to being humorous.
Culluhn was making his way towards the pair, he and Cauldwyn grasped one another's forearm and released.
"You cut it a bit close, Captain." Cauldwyn said wryly and the Pathfinder chuckled.
"You always said I had a flare for dramatics." he commented.
Cauldwyn nodded and added "get your men to the back of the column and get them something hot to eat." Cauldwyn's eyes shifted back to Andraia, finding it hard to stop his eyes from roaming the length of her body.
"You fight well." he said sincerely. Cauldwyn never offered a disingenuous compliment.
~~
She was a vicious fighter, as were the men that fought beside her. She didn’t fight with a shield, at least not in this instance. Instead she used two swords, short but with board blades. They where death in her hands, as she stood the line. The Legion men to her sides gave her protection from the arrows until she stepped forward into the rush of orcs. There was a blood lust in her eyes, a memory of battle that raged into her eyes. Her men were at her back as she hacked and slashed forward until there was nothing but orcs around them in the tight passage of the wall.
It wasn’t until a body landed with a heavy thud on one of the orc she was fighting did she realize that the tables had turned and the orcs were retreating. She let out a rush of air, her armor black to the elbows in the blood of the enemy. The calvery took chase and one horse passed so close to her that it kicked up the lose strands of blond and blood stained hair but she didn’t flinch more than her gloves tightening around the hilts of her blades before she passed them off to one of her men before turning to survey the damage.
She pulled her gloves off as she walked, pausing beside the body of her dead horse and sighed with a note of irritation. It had been a good horse but she’d find another. It wasn’t the first to be cut out from under her in battle. Continuing she made her way toward Cauldwyn she could still feel the heavy beat of her heart in her ears. It was the first time most men, even Cauldwyn had seen her truly fight. She’d spared with the men but from what they’d seen, she held back. He knew where she’d come from, he knew bits of her past and knew that fighting had been the bulk of her life. I showed today.
“Today I’d say their skill is commendable.” She said as she turned her head to watch the men and women descending. “Sadly I don’t know much about these Pathfinders. I think that needs to change.”