Young Writers Society

Birds erupted from some brush a few feet away, complaining loud at the disturbance.

Eira tackled him as he took a deep shaking breath, preparing to cry out again. “Stupid child,” she hissed in his ear as he squirmed beneath her. “A horse doesn’t mean the rider is your friend.” She slammed an open hand over his ear, making him still for a dazed moment.

His heart thrilled as a neigh travelled through the air, and the sound of hoof beats came closer. “Over here!” he called out, tucking his chin against his chest when Eira tried to cover his mouth. Laughter bubbled through him even though he wasn’t sure anything was extremely funny about the situation except Eira’s defeat.

She took his hand, lifting him to his feet, and tried to run. When he dug his feet in the ground, refusing to budge, she picked him up and staggered forward.

“Why-why d-d-don’t you j-j-j-just leave me-me?”

The horsemen were closer than the ones from earlier. Kaynen could hear the jingle of their bridles. He squirmed around so he could see behind Eira. He watched the first few crest the hill Eira was running down now and lost his breath. “Th-th-they-they-“

“Happy now?” she snarled between gasps.

He stared at the brightly painted bandit, one of the infamous rogues roaming the brittle, sun dried hills of his father’s land. His blood went cold at the rough language that traveled down the hill. “I-i-I’ll r-r-r-run-run n-now.”

She rolled her eyes, dropping him unceremoniously in a minute pause, and continued on. She cursed when the strip jerked her back. “Come on, you fat little waste of life,” she spat, sounding desperate, her voice high pitched and breathy. “Don’t let them catch us.”

Kaynen struggled to his feet and started to run as the bandits spilled over the crown of the hill, their long hair with colorful ribbons and beads braided in flying behind them. Those in the lead drew their axes and rough swords. They were a fearful sight, and he forced himself to focus on Eira’s back, wheezing from exertion and fear. He was afraid if he saw more, his legs would refuse to work and his knees would melt away to nothing.

Eira dodged a thorn bush, and Kaynen went the other way in an attempt to miss it. The strip of cloth caught, and both looked at each other in accusation. Eira pulled fiercely as Kaynen attempted to do the same. They went sprawling in opposite directions when the abused cloth broke. A relieved sob breaking through her lips, Eira scrambled to her feet and sprinted forward. Kaynen tried to follow, but he tripped again, sprawling flat again. He let out a shriek of terror as the ground rumbled with the threat of horse hooves.

“E-e-e-e-e-“ He couldn’t even get her name out. He started to run, unable to catch his breath in the short pants his fear allowed. They were right behind him. He didn’t dare glance behind him. He looked for Eira desperately.

She told herself not to glance over her shoulder, but she did at Kaynen’s desperate cry. She knew what would happen to them if the bandits captured them. All Kaynen saw were big scary men with swords bearing down on him. She knew that they would use her as a sex toy until she got pregnant or too broken to use. She wouldn’t have a chance to get too old. Kaynen would be used for a while as a slave, sold out eventually to another master who could possibly offer relief but would probably be even worse.

Kaynen would not survive the first month in bandit company.

She should not care. She told herself not to as she plastered herself to the ground behind a bush whose leaves hadn’t shriveled yet. But she had brought him here, and though she would have left him to die, she couldn’t make herself leave him to torture before an untimely death. She had been in a kind of enslavement for the last three years, and that was nothing compared to what the bandits would do to Kaynen.

There were four of them, all on horseback. She knew better than to try to engage in any physical altercation. They were all men, all bigger, all stronger, all armed better.

She watched, hoping against hope that they would fail, as they surrounded Kaynen, and though she had terrorized him since she had taken him from his home, she was angered by the way they played with him, taunting him.

They would part for a moment, allowing him a way to escape, only to come together when he dashed for freedom.

Their rough laughter mocking him made her even angrier. One stuck his foot out, pushing Kaynen down.

The child covered his head with his arms as their circle got smaller and smaller around him.

Eira stood suddenly, surprising herself as she shouted at them. They wouldn’t understand her. Most of their troupes were made of exiles from neighboring countries, but it got their attention. She swallowed as two broke off towards her. She could see their mouths moving, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. Her thoughts raced as they galloped towards her, and one was prevalent, shouting over the rest, I’ll kill that boy when this is over. She shook that away, determined to survive for another day even if it was only to reason was to murder the child responsible for putting her in this mess.

Her heart pounding in her ears, she studied the quickly approaching riders for any weakness. She gasped in relief when she caught it: a slight inconsistency in one of the horse’s strides. From what she could see, she could guess that the left foreleg was weak for some unseen reason. Perhaps it was just chance, perhaps it was a stone, maybe a cut that went on festering unseen. Eira couldn’t really come to care, and she wasn’t truly sure if it was the left foreleg with the problem or if the existence of the inconsistency was a symptom of a weakness that could help her. She had no time to second guess herself though.

She got in position, feet apart, staff firmly in her hands, smile upon her lips.

She couldn’t die, not yet. She had just started living again.

She could hear the surprise in their voices as they continued their charge, as she stood her ground and maybe- if she wished to flatter herself- admiration. Most people, little boys and grown men alike, ran from the bandits of the hills.

Bending her knees as they approached, she counted her breaths, inhaling and exhaling to the rhythm of the hoof beats. When they were almost upon her, about to trample her it seemed, she drew her staff back and slammed it into the horse’s supposedly afflicted leg, right on the knobby knee.

It screamed, rearing before falling back on its forelegs and collapsing. Its rider was so shocked that he wasn’t prepared and in consequence, was bucked off.

Luck must have been on Eira’s side for the man screamed as one screams only when something is broken and did not jump up to take his revenge.

She ducked behind the thrashing horse, watching the other bandit carefully, as the two left with Kaynen yelled in outrage. She broke out in a cold sweat as they began towards them, but a gruff shout from the bandit in front of her stopped them. She met his hard gaze, her chest moving fast as panic shrunk her lungs.

He jumped over the flailing horse, and she jumped out of the way just in time, working her way behind him as her mind whirred. She whacked the back of the horse’s knee, then again, moving on to the other knee in a frenzied hurry. As the horse fell to her knees, bringing the rider to a level she could swing at, she clubbed him over the head.

She could only hear her pulse and her rapid breathing as she whirled around in a quick circle, looking for her next opponent. When she looked back at Kaynen and his two guards, one was riding away, probably to get help for his brethren. The other was coming towards her, leaving Kaynen curled up on the ground alone. If the kid had a speck of a freethinking brain, he would run like the wind, but Eira couldn’t think about that now. She had no time. She forced herself to move away from the tortured horses though standing behind the only worthwhile obstacle nearby seemed like a good plan. Instead, she waited, ignoring every instinct within her that demanded she run as the horse bore down. Unlike the first two, he obviously wasn’t planning to slow down to capture her. He galloped with one goal in mind. He headed, not towards her, but towards his fellows’ restored honor. She was no longer a slave. She was a target.

She rolled out of the way as he charged by, opposite his blade hand, and turned toward him again as fast as she could. She assessed the situation, mind pulling at half formed ideas, unable to find a reasonable one. He wouldn’t fall for the same trick again. He would swing his blade the correct way or just turn his horse to crush her beneath its hooves.

She didn’t know what to do, she realized as he reined in his horse and turned it around, a cloud of despair settling over her. She stumbled back as he began towards her, slowly building speed. In seconds he would be upon her, and she would be extinguished.

Forever.

All because of some stupid kid who wasn’t even hers who couldn’t listen.

She tripped, sprawling. She abandoned her staff, crawling back, her hands searching for something, anything to defend herself with.

The grass around her trembled with the hoof beats.

She jerked her hand back and frowned at the blood running down her fingers. Cut. They were cut with a-

She looked behind for a moment, grabbing the sword one of the bandits had dropped. She held it out, closing her eyes as the horse got closer and closer.

She waited for what seemed like an hour but couldn’t have been more than seconds, less than seconds, blind, deaf to all but the horse. The impact of the horse impaling itself on the blade rocked through her, and she rolled out of the way as it tumbled down, sobbing. Still crawling on the ground, she found her staff and stood with it. Approaching the horse with hands shaking more than she would ever admit, she looked around for the last bandit, surely waiting to jump out and run her through, and then she was looking down at him coldly. He pale faced and struggling to free himself of his steed’s weight.

He looked up at her, wild rolling eyes calming as he met her merciless gaze. “Kill me,” he gasped, lifting his chin, words thick with an accent she couldn’t place.

She raised her staff, lips a tight white line and began the last blow. Stopping just before his temple, she sneered. “No.” The bandits put the same weight on honor as her people, nobles, put on heritage. He would be stripped of it now. “No. I don’t think I will.” She made sure his sword and his dominant hand were trapped, leaving when she was satisfied. He called out, his voice telling her what his words couldn’t. He was begging, and she ignored him.

She knelt by the two other horses, taking water bags. It must have been a short trip they were taking because there was no food on them. She went to Kaynen who was still sitting, staring at her in horrified fascination.

“You-you-you s-s-s-s-saved me-me.” He scrambled to his feet, eyes wide.

“Let’s go,” she replied curtly, studying the darkening horizon.

“Why-why d-d-did you-you d-do th-that-that?” he demanded, grabbing her hand.

She shook him off, glaring at him. He was shocked to see tears glittering in her eyes, and her voice shook, “Do you want me to leave you under one of those horses, so the bastards can find you when they come back?”

He shook his head silently, terrified and awed.

She watched him, waiting for something it seemed. Finally she looked away, facing the horizon again, and started walking. “You know what? Just go. You’re free. I don’t want to ruin my shirt anymore, and you’re obviously too much trouble. Just go home.”

Home. Kaynen thought about it. The only place he called home had stopped being home four years ago when his mother had died. His father wasn’t nice, and he was unhappy the majority of the time. Now, even his father was gone, and all that were left were loud guards and old cranky men his father had called advisers. He looked around as Eira got farther away. He didn’t even know which way home was, and there were more than bandits in the hills. There were animals with lots of teeth and long claws.

He ran after Eira and looked up as she glanced down at him. She didn’t say anything as she turned her eyes forward once more. “You-you’re r-really b-brave,” he whispered and accepted the water bag silently offered.

They walked into twilight, the sound of the screaming bandit slowly fading to nothing.