A Broken Soldier and A Brave Girl

Everything had been going well. The shadow of the castle was a vague black shape through the orange haze and the grey shadows of the falling ash and rain. The city screamed as men women and children were murdered indiscriminately. The crackle and roar of flames was the backdrop for every sound. Nightmarish black tree limbs reached into the sky, some had bodies tangled in their branches.

            BANG.

Sir Danielle Longbow’s knees collapsed from the shock of the sound. Anne was on the ground with red spots appearing on her armoured back. Beneath her, the child who had been sleeping began to wail.

            Danielle turned Anne over. Her face was scrunched in a wince as the girl crawled off her and threw her arms around Danielle’s legs.

            “Stay down.” Sir Longbow hissed to the child.

            The sobbing child through herself down into the white mush that was still falling from the sky.

            Another explosion sounded simultaneous to the clangs of metal on her shield. Her shoulder bloomed with hot pain. Something miniscule had drilled through her armour into her muscle.

            Making a sound that was the raging child of a grunt and a roar, she charged towards an imperial soldier who was reloading his fire lance as fast as he could. Another next to him aimed towards Danielle’s face. She threw up her shield and charged on.

            Agony from bruised or fractured ribs was still crying out in her chest from a fall earlier in the battle as she ran.

            BANG.

            Her shield took the blow but slammed back into her face. She saw stars as she shook herself. Swinging her sword, it met the steel of the first shooter’s armour. She kicked him onto his back and slammed her mangled shield into the second. He fell, reaching for a gladius at his side. Danielle stabbed him and twisted her sword in the wound, hoping he felt it in return for her own pain.

            Leaping on the first man again she put an end to him with the point of her heater shield, slamming it down on his neck.

            Blood dribbled out of the hole in her pauldron, running down the white ash towards the hand that held her shield. Her knees cracked as she straightened again. Old wounds on her back complained. Her body needed to pick somewhere to ache or shut up so she could think.

            She ran back to the fallen soldier and child in the white mud.

            “Get up now, they’re dead.”

            “Where’s mama,” the girl asked, sobbing, “I want mama.”

            “We’re looking for her.” Danielle smiled, despite having a helmet that hid her mouth. “Can you stand?” She asked Anne.

            “Help me up.” The woman stood and showed the tracks of tears through white ash like the girl. “I can’t do it. I can’t go on.” The little girl clung to Anne, lips quivering. They had to be strong for her.

            “YES YOU CAN. For her.” Danielle roared.

            “I can’t carry her.”

            “Then hold her hand and stay low.”

            “My back,” the bloody woman groaned.

            “Hold her hand and stay low.”

On the ground Danielle saw an archer in the Crann armour with four arrows in her quiver. Stealing the bow, she put the string over Anne’s head and handed the arrows to the girl.

            “I need you to hold these for me. Keep your hand away from the tip and don’t let go of Anne. Understand?” She tried to use the same motherly voice the other woman had but it didn’t come naturally to her. The girl nodded.

            On they went, winding through burning streets. Passing bodies and dying townsfolk. Smoke made it hard to breathe. The heat of burning buildings made the skin on her hands ache.

            She turned around.

            Anne wasn’t there.

Running back, she found the wounded soldier standing in place, shivering.

            “Anne?”

            “Go on without me.”

            “What?”

            “I’m staying here.”

            “No.”

            “Take the girl.”

            “No!”

            “I can’t do this. We’re going to die.” Composure broke like crockery against a stone floor. Her shoulders shook. The last light of hope had left her eyes.

            “Anne. Snap out of it.” The woman looked down, letting go of the girl’s hand.

No matter how much Sir Longbow shouted or shook the woman, there was no response. Blank eyes stared off into a distance beyond sight. She had given up. Danielle took the bow from her and dropped it into the mud. Throwing Anne over her shoulder she told the girl to carry the bow as well as the arrows.

            “What’s your name?” Danielle asked.

            “I’m Nettle.”

            “I need you to be brave Nettle. I’m going to put Anne somewhere safe and then me and you are going to look for your mama in the castle. Understand.”

            “Yes Sir.”

            Nettle looked ridiculous holding a bow horizontally because it was taller than her. Finding a tiny house between stone buildings that weren’t on fire, Danielle pushed her way through the door. Blood on the walls told of a fight that was long over.

            Anne lay on the bed looking for all the world like she was already dead.

            “I’ll come back for you when Nettle is safe.” There was no response. “Hold my tabard Nettle, I need my hands free.” A tiny fist curled around the Crann tabard that was completely white but for blobs of blood. The bow slapped her side as they walked.

            “Shit.”

            Hundreds of imperial soldiers were throwing themselves against the portcullis of the inner bailey at the castle. Ladders were being thrown up against the walls.

            “What do I do?” Asked Danielle, whispering to herself.

            “You kill them.” Nettle was adamant.

            “I can’t draw attention to us.”

            “I can hide,” offered Nettle. Her little face was stone. Her tears had dried. She was a picture of bravery.

            “I only have three red arrows and one regular one.”

            “The red ones make the trees?”

            “Yes.”

            “The trees are strong. You should make them into trees.”

            “I have to look after you.”

            “I’ll look after Anne.”

            “Soldiers are supposed to look after children.”

            “Turn the imps into trees then. I’ll hide with Anne.”

            “I’ll walk you back then.”

            They crept away from the besieged castle, back to the little house where Anne lay on the bed. Danielle helped Nettle take off Anne’s armour and turned the woman onto her stomach. There were a dozen little holes in the defender’s back.

            “I’ll look after her.” The little girl nodded to the knight.

            “If anyone comes, hide.” Nettle nodded again. Too brave and too young to die.