The Battle Maiden's Escape

Please be aware, this story contains suggestive sexual violence and gore.

Steel clashed as blade met blade. The tangy, metallic smell of blood and sweat permeated the air. People cheered and yelled, but they were just white noise. A massive foot connected with her abdomen. Elysha’s breath wheezed as the air was knocked out of her and she flew back, splashing into the mud.

The cool, wet slop poured into her helmet. She twisted sharply, raising her arms just in time. Clang! Sparks flew as the other broadsword crashed into hers. Mud dribbled down the side of her face, into her ear. The metal armor prevented her from stopping it, not that she had time to anyway.

With a heave, Elysha swiped her long leg, contacting her opponent’s ankles. For a brief second, she saw his widened eyes as he fell, arms splayed. His sword flew and disappeared in the muck. Using that same momentum, she twisted herself, a foot squelching in the thick liquid as she balanced and threw herself onto her foe.

Releasing her sword, Elysha pulled a dagger from her hip and whipped it to his throat. Her other hand crashed against his jaw, raising his head. The sharp blade slid under his helmet and over his metal gorget, pressing onto soft, sweaty flesh, and scraping against scraggly, black hairs that speckled his upper neck.

Breathing heavily, she yelled, “Yield, sir!”

His body was frozen, tense, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to try and throw her. Her eyes whipped to his gauntlets but they were submerged in the brown pool. Pressing her feet, her boots seeped further into the mud as she solidified herself on top of him.

Eyes locked on his, she furrowed her brows. He looked so familiar… Blowing it off, she leaned down and snarled, showing her white teeth like the wolf of her family’s sigil.

Honor, Ferocity, Freedom. The motto of her house. Words she dared not ever speak again.

“I yield.” Her opponent’s hazel eyes softened. He succumbed to defeat.

Hers widened, though. It had finally happened. She won! Leaping up, people cheered and exchanged coins amongst each other. An unarmed, portly man approached, but she turned, watching the broad shoulders of her contender walk away. He removed his helm; black hair, stringy from sweat and caked with mud, fell to his shoulders.

The little man spoke. “An unknown, the underdog. Who woulda’ thought this lad could defeat Logan, our long-lasting champion? Yet, he did. Our winner, folks!” He grabbed her gauntlet and raised it in the air. She was taller than him, so her arm didn’t extend fully, even though his did.

He procured a lumpy bag that clinked with gold inside. Elysa gawked at it. In her past life, coin meant nothing to her. Even now, it was the fact that she’d won, proven to herself that she could fight, that she’d earned the respect and cheers that deafened her ears. That meant more to her than all the bowing and scraping from nobles and lady’s maids from her past life.

“Before we give you your well-earned prize, how’s about you show us your face, good sir?”

“Oh…” she chuckled nervously, “…you don’t wanna see my ugly mug.”

He turned to the crowd. “I think the citizens of Verdonia want to see their new champion. Am I right?”

Everyone erupted. Elysa’s eyes scanned the crowd that circled the mud pit. Their ragged, sunken faces, gaps of missing teeth, and holes in their clothing made dread clench her gut. There was no way she’d get out of it. Maybe the mud that caked her face would hide it…

Slowly, she lifted her helmet. As if they’d looked upon Medusa, everyone’s bodies froze and silence pierced the air. Ragged, choppy, short blonde hair plopped down the side of her face. She had hoped her dagger-chopped locks made her look like a peasant boy, but obviously it failed.

Vibrant blue eyes, porcelain smooth, white skin, and a full set of pearly teeth shown. Elysa watched as everyone’s eyes slowly coursed down her body, shock etched on them as her body confirmed what her faced showed… a woman.

Through the crowd, she found the other warrior; the village’s prior champion. His hazel eyes pierced her through his black locks. His strong chin flexed and lips thinned. 

She knew they’d be shocked, but this… This was beyond the pale. Snatching the bag of gold, the short man didn’t fight her as she ran away. The crowd parted long before she reached them; her boots squelching and clomping as she exited the pit onto hard earth. She flew between tilted buildings, disappearing out of sight.

That night, Elysa sat on a barstool in a flea infested, straw strewn inn, not daring to sleep in anything nicer. She didn’t want to waste any gold that would soon be her ride out of here. A strong horse and a few supplies and soon she could explore the world as a free woman… a battle maiden.

She didn’t clean herself, so the mud-caked hair and sweat-stained baggy clothes hid her gender. Stomach empty, she just stared at the dirty bowl of slop that sat before her. It took everything she had not to smile as she relived her victory over and over in her mind.

This feeling was one she hadn’t felt in so long. Jubilation. When was the last time? It was definitely long before she married the duke, before he bedded her, and demanded an heir. Long before she’d disappointed her husband and his court with no news.

Sequestered in her grandly decorated bedroom, the duke didn’t want her to be “disturbed,” as if she was being punished for defiance. As if that would give him what he wanted. As if that would make her body obey.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Only one visitor came to her. It was nightly, at first, but after a few months, he stopped visiting altogether. Silence and loneliness unhinged her, so she resurfaced stances and drills from her weapons master back home.

“There you are,” said a low, smooth voice.

Elysa flinched and turned, staring into the beautiful hazel eyes of the warrior she’d fought earlier that day. Gasping, she looked away. “You have me mistaken—”

“Don’t even try.” He motioned to the innkeeper for an ale, sat, and took a sip.

Petrified, she could feel his eyes on her. What should she do? Keep lying? Run? Beat him up and flee?

“The name’s Logan. I must say, you are quite the fighter. Your techniques… your shiny, undented armor… I thought for sure I would best you.”

Glaring at him, she grumbled, “Well maybe you ought not judge a book by its cover, then.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his clean, wavy hair. “Lesson learned! It did make me wonder, though. Everyone knows the only way to get any combat training is to become one of the Kingdom of Tallandria’s guards; be it for the king, one of his dukes, or barons. And yet, a simple, unassuming village woman received special training and armor that would take generations of work to afford. Not only that, but was also able to spend all her time practicing? A lot of time, by the number of bruises I have. How is that?”

She took his mug of ale, drank from it, and sneered. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is.” Logan slid a wrinkled, weather worn piece of parchment over. Elysa’s likeness had been drawn on it, with words, “Wanted” and “Large Reward” plastered in bold calligraphy.

Inhaling sharply, she grabbed the paper, crumbled it, and looked to see if anyone noticed.

“My, my. Looks like I found the Duke of Tallandria’s greatest disappointment. Those posters were up for a few months but then removed a few weeks ago. Everyone said they’d found you dead in your room. I stood guard during your funeral. You are definitely the duchess, though.”

“SShhhh! Hush your mouth!”

His eyes darkened. “Did he send you? It’s bad enough your kind throttle us with outrageous taxes, but now you’ve come to claim the leftovers too?”

She scoffed. “You think I’m here for gold?”

“Well, you certainly snatched that bag quick enough. You ought to give it back. Your kind have plenty and I needed that for my family.”

“Oh please. You’re healthy and strong, and from all accounts, you’ve won that tournament three years in a row. You can go without extra for a time.”

“Tell that to my mother and six sisters who are running a farm by themselves.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Six sisters?! Why aren’t you helping them, then?”

“I make more coin as one of the duke’s guards,” Logan grumbled. “I get to stand around in shiny armor all day, eat with my friends, play around with swords, and get paid well doing so. While my family, on the other hand, can barely get a moment’s rest, tending to the weed-ridden, half-dried carrot and celery plants.

“Do you know how shameful it is to watch your family work themselves to the bone? Be tired and exhausted day after day, when you’re not? It kills me to see that. That’s why I wanted that gold… to help ease their life.”

She turned away; guilt twisted her heart into knots. “I had no idea.”

“How would you? You were only sent here catch us off guard and steal our gold.”

“I was not!”

“So, you ran away then? Poor, pitiful duchess… did the duke not buy you a big enough ruby?”

Furious, Elysa reared back and punched him in the face. Everyone in the tavern froze as He cupped his nose and howled. Standing, she shoved him out of his stool. As he fell back, she turned and ran, pushing her way past smelly brutes and wenches out into the night sky.

Firey orange glows from various windows lit her path. The smell of grass and manure wafted as she jogged. Darting into a dark alley, she paused, putting hands on her knees and breathing heavily. A moment later, Logan appeared around the corner and collided into her.

The back of her head smacked the hard dirt, and his bulky form crushed her. She groaned, one hand on his chest and the other on the back of her head. “I think you cracked my skull.”

“I think you broke my nose.”

She looked up at his bruised and blood-spackled face, and laughed.

He chuckled, helped her to sit up, and sat next to her.

“Are you going to turn me in?”

“Maybe.”

She sighed. “I need that gold to buy a horse so I can get out of here.”

“Why? Was being a rich, powerful duchess all that bad?”

“I wasn’t any of those things. I was locked in my room for months and I’d had enough.”

“How did you escape then?”

She looked at him, lips thinned. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, too bad.”

“Tell me and I won’t turn you in, then. As part of the duke’s guard, I’d like to know if there are any hidden passageways into the castle… ways people can get in that shouldn’t exist.”

She swallowed. “It’s nothing like that, but it’s not pretty.”

“When you live in a poor cesspit, there’s not much that is.”

“As you know, I was deemed a great disappointment when I couldn’t provide an heir. I was locked away for months and needed a way out. I was able to coerce the maid that delivered my food to send out a message…”

“Please, this ring is worth more than you’ll ever see in your lifetime. It could change your life and your family’s forever. It’s mine, not the duke’s, so you don’t have to fear that you’re stealing from him. Just do as I ask and it’s yours.” The large gold ring glinted in the firelight. The opaline wolf’s head in the center, glowed.

“A few weeks later, I was pulling up a mass through my window in the moonlight. She kind of looked like me, the body they procured… but not close enough. I had to make it look as if she’d been beaten to a pulp so there would be no question.” Elysa’s throat bobbed.

Logan looked at her with furrowed brows.

“I went to my own funeral, dressed up as a man. I even wore a fancy hat. I remember watching from the gallery above. The duke was so… pleased,” she sneered. “He tried to look mournful when he spoke to the populace, but when he sat in the audience, he just smiled and whispered to his mistress.”

She tilted her head, eyes wide. “I remember you now. I bumped into you at the funeral. You were on the gallery too.”

“Indeed, I was,” he chuckled. “I recall seeing you, now that you mention it. The most feminine man I’d ever seen.”

Elysa laughed. “Anyway, where I grew up, women were allowed to learn how to fight. So yes, I was rich and capable of spending all my time practicing. I had no idea it’d be my ticket to freedom, though. Honor, ferocity, freedom. Those were my family’s words and what I will live by from now on.”

“I see.” He stood and helped her up. “And you’re determined to leave, then?”

“Yes. I’m going to earn a living by vanquishing monsters, thieves, or whatever evil each town is plagued by.”

His eyes glazed. “That sounds wonderful.”

“I thought so.”

“Well, I suppose this is where we part ways, then.”

Elysa wasn’t able to sleep that night. Plagued by her own demons, she couldn’t live with herself. How could she say she was honorable when she could, so easily, take from a family that truly needed the gold? She’d lived a comfortable life, and decided a bit of hardship was what she was due, especially if it helped others that already had a lifetime of it.

It wasn’t hard to find Logan’s family farm. After asking the villagers, it was the only anyone knew that contained celery and carrots. The amount of women that answered the door confirmed it as well. They gawked as she handed the gold over, but it turned to scowls when she said she’d stolen it from him.

Two days had passed and Elysa traveled down the long open fields of the Eirnach Plains. Her heart thudded as fast as the hooves of the horses that rode by. Wary, she drew her two-handed broadsword every time. Most of the groups carried crops and just stared, wide-eyed, at the gleaming warrior.

In the distance, one dark gray horse approached with a lonesome rider. Her blade screeched against the inner sheath as she freed it. The traveler’s body glinted. Armor! Heart racing, she wondered if this one might actually be dangerous.

The horse slowed and stopped. The broad-shouldered, helmeted warrior looked down at her.

With her own helmet donned, she spoke in the deepest voice she could muster. “Move along, sir, unless you wish to die.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Whoever it is, I am not that person, nor have I seen anyone. Now move along.”

His head tilted. “I’m looking for a warrior. A champion of the people. A battle maiden. I believe she may be in need of a horse.”

Her blade lowered slightly.

He took his helmet off and smiled at her. “I know it’s you.”

“Logan?!” She put her blade away and removed her helmet. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you a horse.”

“W- what? Your family?”

“This beast is one we already had. He’s not the fastest but he’s strong.” He patted the horse’s neck. “There’s only one condition. The riders comes with it.”

Her jaw slackened.

“I spoke with my mother and sisters. We all agreed that I could possibly make more coin traveling and slaying evil. Plus, two swords are better than one.”

She smiled and agreed. He scooted back on the saddle and helped her mount.

“Well then,” Elysa said. “Let’s go slaughter some evil.”