FATEIII A Maid and An Archer

2 years later

“No! I will never submit to that tyrant you call a king!” Kellick Yarlion slammed his fist down hard on the wooden table. Captain Rederic Foltindon lowered his eye brows menacingly.

“No one insults Lord Lamord in such a way! You will pay for your insults, mark my words.”

“You won’t lay a hand on me, captain. You have no right to do this.” Kellick growled back. Rederic pulled the man from his chair by his shirt collar and put his face right up into that of Kellick.

“Lord Lamord does as he pleases and it is my job to bring these rebellious peasants into submission! So what will it be old man?”

Kellick stared into his eyes for a moment then uttered a single word.

“Leave.”

“What did you just say?”

“Leave my house. Now!”

“Fine. If you won’t come on your own will, then you’ll come by force. Guard!”

Two men who had been standing by the door now advanced, swords drawn.

“Father!” Kellick’s eighteen year old daughter, Thara, who had been waiting by the fire, stood up, grabbed her father’s old sword from the mantle and tossed it to him. Kellick caught it and spun it in his old experienced fingers. He made as if to lunge at the soldier to his left then quickly hammered the other soldiers shield knocking him flat. The one still standing was so confused he was just standing there and Kellick brought him down with a quick thrust to the middle. As Kellick turned toward the soldier on the floor, he was unprotected and the soldier (whose name was Dannflour) lunged forward. A quiet scream emitted from Thara as her father fell to the floor. Dannflour, who had never killed anyone and had never wanted to, stood, all shaky. He looked at Thara, longing for her to understand. “I didn’t mean to…. It was in self defense. Please. Please understand. I’ve never done such a thing in my life and…… please understand…..please…..” but Thara was on the floor her face whiter than snow, her eyes wide in shock. All noises to her were like far of echoes. She barely heard Foltindon call for a stretcher. When the men bearing the stretcher tried to lift Kellick she came back to reality. She tried to stop them but two more soldiers held her back. When they had made their exit, she finally relaxed and her stone sorrow turned to stone anger. The soldiers’ grip on her had relaxed and she wrenched free and ran to the fire place. Griping the fire stoker in her hand she started to throw it at the pompous officer but her tears over came her and she fell to her knees. The stoker clattered on the floor. She began sobbing again. Dannflour wanted to try and comfort her but knew Foltindon’s eyes were on him. He dropped his sword and shield and faced the captain.

“You may enjoy doing these things but I don’t. I won’t stand here and do nothing of any help. Dannflour gave him a withering glare with his last remark. “Your heart is blacker than the tar it’s covered in.”

“I may have you arrested for treason young man.”

“You and your villains can do what you will with me. At least I won’t be part of them.”

Thara stood and ran out the back door sobbing. One of the guards made as if to go after her but Foltindon stopped them.

“Wait! We’ll come back with a warrant for that ones arrest. She can’t go far.”

Thara ran. She didn’t stop until she was deep into the West Wood where she finally fell to the leafy floor and cried her heart out. She didn’t realize until she woke, that she had cried her self to sleep.

“What a silly thing to do.” She said to herself. Then she remembered her father and a slow trickle of tears ran down her cheek. But just then she heard footsteps. About six soldiers were marching through the woods in her direction. She looked about for what direction she should run when all of a sudden something dropped out of a tree right behind her and a hand grabbed her arm gently but firmly. A soft voice said,

“Don’t run. Every thing will be ok.”

Thara whirled around to see who it was but he had gone. Some branches shook above and the voice whispered, “Ssshhh!”

Sergeant Kayggen, a tough stocky fellow, approached Thara with a swagger. His gruff voice bellowed out,

“We have a warrant for your arrest miss. And I advise you not to run away this time.” He grabbed Thara’s arm tight so that she couldn’t wriggle free. Just then, a yellow fletched arrow flew from out of no where into Kayggen’s arm and all the soldiers crouched down, shields over their heads. A reprimanding voice called from the trees,

“Bad form old chap! Not the way to treat a lady you know.”

“Where are you!?” one of the soldiers called out.

“Right behind you.” The soldier whirled around to face a smiling Deodar Lightfoot. Before the soldier could swing his sword, Deodar’s hand had grabbed his wrist and twisted it, relieving him of his weapon; then knocked him out cold with the hilt of the dagger he was holding. Two more soldiers came at him. As one of the soldiers swung for his head Deodar ducked and the momentum of the swing carried the blade in a full circle and right at his comrade. The unaware soldier brought his shield up, but too late. The soldiers swing left him unprotected and Deodar dealt him a swift kick to the gut, then another to the chin. Then the last two came. He dropped the first with his bow then parried the second’s sword and thrust the dagger into his middle. The soldier fell with the dagger in his gut as Deodar aimed a menacing arrow at Kayggen who was clutching arm.

“Git! And take them with you.” he said, nodding to the two soldiers sitting on the ground, rubbing their bruised wrists, cheeks, bellies, and chins.

Kayggen walked over to the nearest soldier, kicked his knee and growled.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Deodar waited until they were well on their way then turned to Thara.

“Come. We must leave before they arrive with more men.” He took her hand and they raced off into the woods.