The Warrior’s Way Part 2 of 6

Previously Part 1

Lyssa swayed in the saddle, every now and then Bouda stopped to take a bite of a bush or leaves from a low hanging branch of a tree. They were mostly sheltered from the sun by the trees but every now and then light would break through to remind her of the unrelenting heat waiting out of the shade. That’s what you got for traveling south.

She didn’t bother to kick Bouda on but she did pat her shaggy neck to remind her to keep going. The horse snorted and flicked her head in response. She deserved this time to go at her own pace, especially when Lyssa had pushed her so hard in the past. There was nowhere they were in a rush to go, the war would still be there no matter how long it took them to get there. After all it had been raging for a good few decades now. A couple of weeks wouldn’t make a difference.
She could feel herself drifting in the peace of the forest. That was very dangerous but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Maybe it was arrogant, but she felt sorry for the person or people who tried to cross her when they thought her guard was down. Better they attack her than someone who couldn’t defend themselves. There was so much blood on her hands already, it was hard to care about a few more who thought they could be warriors by attacking the defenceless.

Killing in self defence would be the least of her sins and soon it would all be over anyway. She’d give her life to atone for the wrongs she had committed.
A scream pierced the air. It was so shrill that for a moment she thought it was a great beast of the war god come to take her back, even though she’d taken great pains to disappear from the god’s sight.

She held the reins on her startled horse tight to stop her bolting. Her ears were stood at attention and she shifted underneath Lyssa with agitated energy. The sound of her hooves echoed through the trees as she danced on hard packed earth, ready to charge into battle.
Then the wind changed and those otherworldly noises turned into something much more human. She’d kicked Bouda into a run before it had registered in her mind that she was doing it. Bouda didn’t need much encouragement and quickly reached a canter. The path curved through the trees reducing visibility considerably. Lyssa refused to let her go faster, not when she didn’t know the road or what she was heading into.
The screams started to fade with longer pauses between as whoever it was lost their voice.
She heard the river before she saw it and she pulled Bouda to a stop before they exited the trees. The river was a lot higher than she expected for this time of year and there was no clear bank separating the land from the water.

There was a stone bridge that stretched across the wide river, just barely above the water. It looked surprisingly sturdy for the area. The further you travelled from a capitol city the less effort seemed to go into upkeep. All the other structures she had come across so far had been made of wood and varied from brand new to so dilapidated she hesitated to step foot on them. This river separated Cahan, the country she had just travelled through, and Ghanda whose borders started on the far bank. If you could call it a border. This land wasn’t known for being an official country. They spoke the same language as the Cahans but they didn’t answer to lords or government. They kept to themselves.

What caught her attention though was the group of people stood in the middle of the bridge. They had gathered in a semi circle around a priest. Lyssa could just catch the red tint of his robes. They all had the darker tone to their skin that was common for the area.

Beside the priest stood a bound man, who had his head bowed and was shrinking away from the others, as if he was trying to disappear into the stone. The other bound person was a woman with much darker skin than those around her. She was stood on the wall of the bridge and appeared to be studying the river. The priest hefted his book aloft and recited something that Lyssa couldn’t make out. The crowd repeated it dutifully.
Lyssa lightly tied Bouda’s reigns to a tree branch, this was more to remind the horse to stay put than to secure her. Short of finding something metal to tie her to there wasn’t much that would stop Bouda.

She approached the bridge cautiously. This crowd was too small to be a threat to her, unless they all turned out to be warriors, but killing civilians wasn’t what she wanted to do. If someone did die then Cahan law would be on her side as a warrior keeping the peace but Ghanda could be involved and she knew little of their politics. The aim was to disperse these people without hurting them. Too much. They were about to commit murder after all, a little fear and pain went a long way to discouraging that kind of behavior.
The closer she got to the bridge the soggier the ground became until her boots were splashing through a very shallow layer of surface water.

Once on the bridge she couldn’t help but notice its’ age. The stone was so worn as to be almost smooth in places. There were patterns in the stone walls that probably depicted gods and other religious symbols she couldn’t place. It didn’t look like Cahan religion or architecture. They used flowing shapes and sparse detail. This bridge must have been built by the Ghandans. Their gods were unknown to her.

A few of the people spotted her and she kept her hands up to show there were no weapons drawn. Their clothes were dull browns and greys. Few would have money for dyes around here. They looked uneasy but none of them made a move until one of them caught the attention of the priest who lowered his book and heaved a big sigh.
“This bridge hasn’t been used in weeks and all of a sudden it’s the place to be when I’m trying to conduct a religious ceremony.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured with the book to his followers. “Don’t just stand there. Remove her.”
Only two men stepped forward to do his bidding and they didn’t look confident. One had traces of dried blood on his face that hadn’t been cleaned off from a previous fight.

They looked even less confident when Lyssa arched an eyebrow and planted her feet. The only difference between them and the others were they wore leather instead of wool. Leather may be better protection while fighting but in reality unless it was well made its’ stiffness only slowed you down. Also the only weapon it would protect against would be a sword so blunt you may as well use it as a cudgel.
The woman on the bridge wall turned out to be younger than Lyssa had first thought. She let out a chuckle. “Now you’re scared, when it’s someone who can beat you all up. You’re cowards.” Her hair was wild in a way that only dark skinned women could achieve. The wind rippled it behind her like a banner following a warrior into battle.
“Be quiet girl.” The priest snapped. He was the most ordinary looking man Lyssa had ever seen. Short hair, average height, average weight and a face that would be hard to remember. The only notable thing about him was that he thought he could wield more power than he had.
“No, what are you going to do kill me?” She laughed again and almost succeeded in sending herself over the edge into the river.
The men advanced on Lyssa, goaded on by being called a coward by a girl half their size. They had crude short swords in their hands and obviously no idea about how to hold or use a weapon like that to be effective. She also doubted the sharpness of the blades.

No wonder they thought leather was good armor. Lyssa hadn’t bothered to put hers on. It would be hilariously over the top if she had come to this fight dressed as a proper warrior knight in gleaming plate armor. Not to mention it was too hot, despite the wind rushing across the water, and if these men could get the better of her then she didn’t deserve her titles or armor.
She drew her dagger, which may have been half the size of their swords, but was much better made. Her choice of a weapon quickened their steps, they were glad she hadn’t drawn the big sword strapped to her back. They would understand soon enough why she didn’t need to.
The closest lunged at her and she sidestepped using the hilt of her dagger to break his hand and send his sword flying. He howled in agony. He should be grateful she hadn’t cut it off instead.
The second took this opportunity to swing at her. She parried the blow with a clang of steel that had his sword rebounding back and she punched him in the face. He dropped the sword and fell to the floor clutching his bleeding mouth. He’d definitely lost a few teeth. At least it would match his broken nose.
The guy with the broken hand hadn’t given up. He scrambled to pick up the sword with his other hand. She put a stop to that with the swing of her leg. Planting her foot on the blade and trapping his fingers beneath the hilt. He howled in pain as his second hand was damaged.
“I hope you don’t work with your hands.”
“Bitch.”
She kneed him in the face and kicked the blade behind her. She turned round to look at the guy clutching his mouth. He looked up at her with wide eyes. The warrior cocked her head and looked at the sword laying within his reach. He backed away and took off running.
Satisfied she turned to the priest who was raging about incompetence and trying to push his followers to confront her. Literally he was shoving them forward and they were trying to move in any direction but at her.
Then a bigger guy pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He was all muscle with a few inches of height on her. When he drew his sword it wasn’t too bad either. Still crudely made, most likely by a village blacksmith and not an artisan but it was longer than the other two and could actually be called a sword. She considered drawing her own sword but the bridge was too narrow to swing a greatsword effectively. Not to mention he’d be very quick to swing that sword with the bulk he had. She’d stick to her dagger.
He sauntered across the bridge, arrogance lacing his every step. He knew how to hold a sword and that made him better than most men who decided to carry a blade as a deterrent. He might even be the local warrior who protected this area, but that wasn’t going to be good enough to beat her.
He took the first few swings at her and she parried every one easily, keeping him at a distance. She wasn’t in a hurry to end this, no matter how much that priest shouted or the girl goaded them all into pushing her into the river. He seemed to take this as a sign she was scared or couldn’t match him. His swings got bolder and less precise as the crowd cheered for him. She waited for his eyes to take on that gleam of victory and instead of parrying a swing she stepped neatly out of the way, watching him overbalance and hit the wall. He collided with it and the breath was knocked from his body. She stepped up behind him and used the hilt to knock him out cold. His body slumped to the floor.
“Enough of this nonsense.” The priest had abandoned his book and walked to the girl.
Lyssa knew he was going to push her in but there were too many people between them. even she couldn’t kill that many people quick enough to save the girl’s life.
She lifted the dagger above her head and aimed to strike him in the back. Not something she wanted to do under any circumstance. There was no honour in killing a man who wasn’t a warrior especially when his back was turned. The gods would be angry but a girl’s life was at stake.
Before she could strike the girl launched herself from the wall. Not into the river but at the priest. He reared back in surprise but all that did was make it easier for the girl’s weight to knock him to the ground.
The crowd were already backing away but they parted like a knife through leather as she ran to the struggling girl on the floor, who was attempting to kick the priest with her bound feet.
Lyssa hauled the girl to her feet but put one foot on the priest’s chest to keep him where he was. The bound man didn’t seem to understand what was happening. He kept opening his mouth to speak but never actually said a word.
“Anyone else want to challenge me?” Lyssa didn’t even bother raising the dagger she held in her hand. The crowd turned and ran as though they possessed one mind. “That’s what I thought.”
She cut the girl free and then the man. She let the girl get a few kicks in on the priest before lifting her off him. She turned to find the previously bound man running away across the other side of the bridge. If he could run that fast then he couldn’t be too badly injured.
The warrior turned back to the priest. “If I catch you doing this again, I’ll kill you.” Lyssa said lacing her voice with a growl. The girl took such a menacing step forward that Lyssa had to stop her. “Or I’ll let her kill you. Depends on how annoying you are.” She kicked him in the arse to get him moving. “Run.”
He took off like a rabbit, tripping a few times but quickly making the trees on the opposite side to where the male sacrifice had gone.
Lyssa could still see Bouda waiting in the shade. There were no people unconscious at the horse’s hooves so she could only assume none of them had tried to steal her.
“That was so good.” The girl was excitedly gesturing beside her, trying to act out the pivotal moments and gushing over how exciting it all was. Her clothes were dusty and slightly askew from her struggle on the ground with the priest. The band holding her black hair back had snapped at some point and she kept trying to smooth it back to keep it out of her face. It was a battle the girl was not going to win.
Lyssa sighed and headed towards her horse. How was the girl still talking when she had done all that screaming? Shouldn’t she be losing her voice by now?
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“No.”
“A home to go to?”
“Well yeah but it’s a bit far away and I’ve got something to do first.”
“See you around then.”
“Wait, you’re crossing the bridge into Ghanda?”
Lyssa had an awful feeling that she didn’t want to answer that question but if she didn’t cross here she wasn’t sure she’d be able to cross anywhere else downstream. “Yes.”
“Good, that’s where I’m going. We can keep each other company.” The girl looked like she was about to try and link their arms or hold hands.
“I don’t need company.” Lyssa stepped away.
“I do. What if they come back?” The girl moved closer but didn’t try to touch her again.
Damn, Lyssa couldn’t leave her alone after saving her. “Fine but we’re walking for at least an hour before we make camp.” Lyssa stalked to her horse and climbed into the saddle. “I’m Lyssa.”
“Abi.”
“Keep up.” Lyssa didn’t try to lose Abi but she didn’t keep Bouda to an easy walking speed either. Hopefully being out of breath would prevent the girl from talking.
“Great, while we walk I can tell you about the area and ask you some questions about other places. Where do you come from?” Lyssa considered answering the question by lying but the brief pause was apparently only to draw breath as Abi studied Bouda. “Actually, what type of horse is this? I’ve never seen one like her. She’s so big but I suppose a warrior like you would need a great stead to ride into battle.”
Abi continued talking as Lyssa considered what she would finally say when the girl paused long enough for her to answer. It was going to be a long hour.

To be continued…

Previously Part 1                                                                                                                           Next Part 3 

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