About a Dragon
Page 54
Immediately, the two women turned toward her. They looked so different from each other. One had golden brown hair, green eyes, and a very recent knife slash across her face. The other had white hair, blue eyes shaped like a cat’s, and the mark of a witch on one cheek. The witch blocked her, so Talaith had no idea how powerful her Magick. And she had no time to figure it out.
“You must leave. Now.”
They didn’t. Instead they stared at her. Not in fear or confusion, but in curiosity.
“Did you not hear me?”
“We heard you,” the brown-haired one said before dropping her head back into the water.
And that was all either one of them said.
“Unbelievable,” Talaith muttered. “Now I have to protect their stupid hides as well as my own.” And she was stupid. She could run, in theory. The men would find enough sport with these two so chances were high they wouldn’t bother coming for her. But she couldn’t do that to any woman.
She heard the men stomping through the trees toward them. She knew a fire spell that should handle them pretty well. And possibly destroy the entire forest. Oh, well. Can’t be helped.
The men stepped past the line of the trees, but looked past her. Quickly glancing behind her, she realized that both women had gotten out of the lake. By the gods. Those bitches are huge!
“Focus, Talaith,” she chastised herself.
At least they’d thrown on some clothes. One had on her witch’s robes. The other simple leggings, cotton shirt and leather boots. They didn’t appear worried, though. They should. Unless the witch had great power. That would definitely help at the moment.
“Well, well. Look what we have here, lads.”
Talaith rolled her eyes. Why these idiots never came up with anything more original before the raping and pillaging, she’d never know.
She counted. Fifteen men. Fifteen to their three. Eesh. She would have preferred better odds than that, but nothing she could do about it now.
Her attention on the men in front of her and the chant on her lips, Talaith readied herself to destroy an entire forest—or start a small bonfire, she wasn’t quite sure which—when the brown-haired woman walked past her.
“You know what I love, gentlemen?” the woman asked with a big smile. Good gods, why is she talking to them? Talaith glanced back at the witch, who gave a helpless shrug. As if this were an unruly puppy rather than a woman who would get them all raped and killed.
“And what would that be, luv?” one of the men in front asked with a knowing smile.
“When the gods throw sport my way.”
She moved so fast, if Talaith blinked she would have missed it. Missed the woman ripping the man’s sword from his scabbard, expertly hefting the blade, and swinging.
Talaith watched the man’s head roll away. It would have been comical if it weren’t a bit vile.
Taking a step back, the woman watched the other men, her newly obtained sword raised.
“Come on then, you lot,” she encouraged. “You’re not going to leave me standing here, are ya?” She looked over the men before her. “Which one of you is man enough to fight me?”
Man enough? Try stupid enough.
That’s when other men stepped from the trees. Based on their ages and a distinct lack of bitterness on their faces, Talaith knew these men were not with the ones who had been tracking her. They were with this woman. They wore dark red surcoats over chainmail shirts and leggings. The crests on their surcoats were of a black dragon with two swords crossed behind it.
Well, there went Talaith’s brief theory the brown-haired woman was a poor, sole mercenary.
One of the woman’s warriors, a tall handsome man who couldn’t seem to stop grinning, glanced at her. “Do we really have time for this?”
“Don’t rush me, Brastias. You bastards want me relaxed. This will relax me.” She turned back to the confused men. “Well?” the woman challenged again. “Anyone?”
The cornered men glanced around and realized the warriors with the dark red surcoats surrounded the entire lake—and them. They had no choice but to fight her.
Two men charged her at the same time. She blocked both their blades with her own, kicked one, knocking him to the ground and gutted the other. She took his sword as her own and finished off the man still on the ground at her feet.
That’s when the rest decided to attack the woman as one.
Talaith looked to the warriors to see if they would help. They didn’t. Their swords remained sheathed, their sighs indicated boredom. The witch moved up to stand beside her. “This won’t take long.”
She had a distinct feeling the witch was right.
A grin spread across the warrior woman’s face as she blocked a blow with one sword while slashing at another attacker with the other. Blood flew, splattering across her shirt, but she didn’t even notice it, instead turning to another man and gutting him from stomach to throat. She took his head, turned, cut another man in half; crouched, slashed, took another man’s legs. She moved so fast, Talaith found it hard to follow her. But within seconds, she’d killed them all…except one.
The warrior woman cracked her neck as her green eyes locked onto the last man. He raised his sword, but she knocked it out of his hand with one blow from her own. She kicked him in the chest, sending him crashing to his back.
Then she placed one extremely large foot onto his chest and crouched down, pinning him to the ground with her weight.
“So tell me, what were you planning to do with us? Eh? Going to make us scream? Beg for mercy?” She leaned in, forcing her foot into the man’s chest, her face filled with utter disgust and contempt. “Should I do that to you? Should I make you cry? Should I make you beg?”
“You must leave. Now.”
They didn’t. Instead they stared at her. Not in fear or confusion, but in curiosity.
“Did you not hear me?”
“We heard you,” the brown-haired one said before dropping her head back into the water.
And that was all either one of them said.
“Unbelievable,” Talaith muttered. “Now I have to protect their stupid hides as well as my own.” And she was stupid. She could run, in theory. The men would find enough sport with these two so chances were high they wouldn’t bother coming for her. But she couldn’t do that to any woman.
She heard the men stomping through the trees toward them. She knew a fire spell that should handle them pretty well. And possibly destroy the entire forest. Oh, well. Can’t be helped.
The men stepped past the line of the trees, but looked past her. Quickly glancing behind her, she realized that both women had gotten out of the lake. By the gods. Those bitches are huge!
“Focus, Talaith,” she chastised herself.
At least they’d thrown on some clothes. One had on her witch’s robes. The other simple leggings, cotton shirt and leather boots. They didn’t appear worried, though. They should. Unless the witch had great power. That would definitely help at the moment.
“Well, well. Look what we have here, lads.”
Talaith rolled her eyes. Why these idiots never came up with anything more original before the raping and pillaging, she’d never know.
She counted. Fifteen men. Fifteen to their three. Eesh. She would have preferred better odds than that, but nothing she could do about it now.
Her attention on the men in front of her and the chant on her lips, Talaith readied herself to destroy an entire forest—or start a small bonfire, she wasn’t quite sure which—when the brown-haired woman walked past her.
“You know what I love, gentlemen?” the woman asked with a big smile. Good gods, why is she talking to them? Talaith glanced back at the witch, who gave a helpless shrug. As if this were an unruly puppy rather than a woman who would get them all raped and killed.
“And what would that be, luv?” one of the men in front asked with a knowing smile.
“When the gods throw sport my way.”
She moved so fast, if Talaith blinked she would have missed it. Missed the woman ripping the man’s sword from his scabbard, expertly hefting the blade, and swinging.
Talaith watched the man’s head roll away. It would have been comical if it weren’t a bit vile.
Taking a step back, the woman watched the other men, her newly obtained sword raised.
“Come on then, you lot,” she encouraged. “You’re not going to leave me standing here, are ya?” She looked over the men before her. “Which one of you is man enough to fight me?”
Man enough? Try stupid enough.
That’s when other men stepped from the trees. Based on their ages and a distinct lack of bitterness on their faces, Talaith knew these men were not with the ones who had been tracking her. They were with this woman. They wore dark red surcoats over chainmail shirts and leggings. The crests on their surcoats were of a black dragon with two swords crossed behind it.
Well, there went Talaith’s brief theory the brown-haired woman was a poor, sole mercenary.
One of the woman’s warriors, a tall handsome man who couldn’t seem to stop grinning, glanced at her. “Do we really have time for this?”
“Don’t rush me, Brastias. You bastards want me relaxed. This will relax me.” She turned back to the confused men. “Well?” the woman challenged again. “Anyone?”
The cornered men glanced around and realized the warriors with the dark red surcoats surrounded the entire lake—and them. They had no choice but to fight her.
Two men charged her at the same time. She blocked both their blades with her own, kicked one, knocking him to the ground and gutted the other. She took his sword as her own and finished off the man still on the ground at her feet.
That’s when the rest decided to attack the woman as one.
Talaith looked to the warriors to see if they would help. They didn’t. Their swords remained sheathed, their sighs indicated boredom. The witch moved up to stand beside her. “This won’t take long.”
She had a distinct feeling the witch was right.
A grin spread across the warrior woman’s face as she blocked a blow with one sword while slashing at another attacker with the other. Blood flew, splattering across her shirt, but she didn’t even notice it, instead turning to another man and gutting him from stomach to throat. She took his head, turned, cut another man in half; crouched, slashed, took another man’s legs. She moved so fast, Talaith found it hard to follow her. But within seconds, she’d killed them all…except one.
The warrior woman cracked her neck as her green eyes locked onto the last man. He raised his sword, but she knocked it out of his hand with one blow from her own. She kicked him in the chest, sending him crashing to his back.
Then she placed one extremely large foot onto his chest and crouched down, pinning him to the ground with her weight.
“So tell me, what were you planning to do with us? Eh? Going to make us scream? Beg for mercy?” She leaned in, forcing her foot into the man’s chest, her face filled with utter disgust and contempt. “Should I do that to you? Should I make you cry? Should I make you beg?”
