Ghaul motioned Khirro to take cover behind a fallen cedar claimed by moss. Khirro crouched and stole a glance over the top of the log. The woman stood almost as tall as the men surrounding her, red hair spilling down her bare back. He averted his eyes from her nakedness, feeling a hot blush rise in his cheeks, but looked again when she shouted.
“Give me my money.” She wagged a finger at the biggest of the men, a stocky fellow with thick black beard and powerful arms. Her breasts jiggled with the movement. “Nothing’s free. Pay me what you owe me.”
The man laughed, caught her by the arm and pulled her into a bear hug, arms pinned at her sides. He kissed her on the lips as she struggled to get free, then he pushed her across the circle into the waiting arms of another, this man young with an eager look in his eyes. He repeated his fellow’s actions. Each time she pulled free, they pushed her stumbling into the arms of another man. Her curses and cries of anger rang through the forest. As she fell into the arms of the first man again, he pressed his body against hers.
“One more for the road, I think,” he boomed, laughing, but his laughter turned quickly to a cry of pain. He pushed the woman away and looked down at his own dagger sticking from his thigh, a dark patch of red spreading down his breeches.
“You bitch.”
He grabbed the knife hilt in his right hand and jerked the blade free as his free hand flashed out and caught the woman across the face. She tumbled to the ground, but when she looked up brushing hair from her face, she smiled defiantly showing teeth red with blood.
Ghaul signaled to Khirro and rose from his crouch, began to move away.
He wants to leave. We can’t leave her to these animals.
Khirro grabbed his shoulder.
“We have to do something,” he whispered.
The bearded man stood over the woman, hands clenched into fists as the others chided him on. Ghaul’s expression told Khirro they didn’t have time for this foolishness, that a search party was after their heads, but Khirro held his gaze without wavering. After a few seconds, Ghaul gave in.
“Go over there, quickly. Shout and throw rocks when you see my first arrow fly. Make it sound like you’re more than one man. Go. Hurry.”
Khirro stole from tree to tree, stooping to pick up rocks on the way. His movement was far from silent but he doubted the men would notice anything but the naked woman.
“It’s time you got that payment you deserve, whore.”
Khirro heard the bearded man’s words as he found cover behind a fir tree within throwing range. The man sheathed his dagger and drew his sword, raising it skyward. The woman kicked him in the groin; he howled and stumbled back a step, his compatriots’ laughter adding to his ire. Anger contorting his face, the bearded man growled and raised his sword again. The woman scrambled to get away, but the other men blocked her path.
When the arrow pierced his shoulder, the bearded man’s expression changed from fury to surprise. His sword hit the ground and he fell to his knees. Khirro took the cue, yelling and launching rocks toward the group, not worrying about aiming but still trying not to hit the woman. Caught off guard, the men panicked.
When Ghaul skewered the second man through the thigh, they’d had enough of their unseen enemy.
The uninjured man collected his companions and ran toward their whinnying and prancing horses picketed at the far end of the clearing. Khirro caught the bearded man in the back of the head with a good-sized stone and smiled, satisfied. The man with the arrow in his thigh fell screaming in agony as he attempted to mount his spooked steed. His fellows didn’t stop to help as they crashed into the forest without looking back. The man dragged himself to his horse, struggled into the saddle, and took off hanging from his horse at a dangerous angle. Khirro smiled, an unfamiliar feeling of triumph tingling his arms and legs with a flood of adrenaline.
So this is what it feels like to be a real soldier.
He rushed into the clearing, hooting and hollering after them. Ghaul did the same and they came together to watch the men disappear into the trees.
“They’re afraid of us and the rest of our company,” Ghaul said sweeping his arm across the empty meadow. “They won’t be back anytime soon.”
The woman stared at them, suspicion burning in her eyes as they approached. She pulled herself to a sitting position, knees hugged to her chest, blood running down her chin from her split lip. She watched them but said nothing.
“Are you all right?” Khirro asked when they were a few yards from her.
“Take what you will of me,” she said, neither fear nor resignation in her voice.
Ghaul laughed. “There is naught we want of you, my lady, except perhaps your thanks and direction to the nearest village.”
Her brow wrinkled beneath the red hair spilling across her forehead as though she didn’t understand what he’d said. Or didn’t believe it.
“Thank you,” she said hesitantly.
In spite of her unkempt hair and the blood on her chin, Khirro found her beautiful. Freckles peppered her cheeks and shoulders. She searched their faces with eyes shining green like the ocean and almost as deep.
Ghaul offered her his hand and something twinged in Khirro’s belly-Ghaul hadn’t wanted to stop yet now proffered aid. The woman placed her hand in his without reservation, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She stretched while Ghaul appraised her appreciatively. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care as she made no attempt to cover herself. Embarrassment spread across Khirro’s cheeks.
“I’m Ghaul. My companion his Khirro.”
“Elyea.” Her gaze darted back and forth between them. She’s looking at our armor. “Why would two men be hiding in the forest? Are you deserters? I’ve had enough of deserters today.”
“Oh no, my lady,” Khirro said. “Not deserters. We’re-”
“Misplaced wanderers in need of clothing and supplies,” Ghaul interrupted. “This is why we need your help. Could you direct us to the nearest village?”
She nodded. “I’ll take you.”
“But where are your clothes, my lady?” Khirro asked.
He attempted to keep his eyes from the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts, the patch of red hair between her legs, but found it difficult. She smiled.
“Does my body cause you discomfort, brave rescuer?” She canted her hips, her smile spreading from her lips to her eyes.
“No,” Khirro replied, fire burning in his cheeks. “I thought you’d be more comfortable clothed.” He looked at his feet.
“I’m comfortable either way, but I see you’re not.”
She strode to where her frock hung on the low branch of a tree, her steps slow, purposeful and full of grace. Khirro raised his eyes to watch her heart shaped buttocks swing side to side as she went. Ghaul made an ‘mmm’ sound in the back of his throat.
“One thing we need to get straight if I’m to help you: my name is Elyea. No more ‘my lady’ shite. I am no man’s lady.”
She pulled the dress unhurriedly over her head, the shapeless shift disguising her curves as she stood erect and elegant, wiping the blood from her chin with it. She returned at the same deliberate pace, curtseying as she reached them.
“Is that better?”
“Better for my friend,” Ghaul said continuing to eye her. “He’s shy.”
“I’m not shy. I… I’m married,” Khirro bumbled.
Elyea moved to him, put her hand on his chest; it brushed the vial hidden beneath. She smiled-most of the blood was gone from her teeth. “You’re not the first married man to see me unclothed.”
The redness rushed back to his cheeks, sweat jumped to his brow and he took a step away. Ghaul laughed.
“Why were those men treating you that way?” Khirro asked, desperate to change the subject.
“When I completed the work they contracted me for, they refused to pay.”