Brave Defence, Cruel Invasion

The heavy thud of a crossbow bolt hitting her shield sent a shock of pain through Sir Danielle Longbow’s arm. One bolt passed overhead, the whistle through the air audible over the sounds of a dying city.

            Clashing steel from the crossbowmen made her peer over her battered heater shield. Down below, the four soldiers who had been taking pot shots at her were under attack from one of Crann’s soldiers.

            Danielle threw herself down the pile of bodies that covered the stairs. Catching her foot in the armpit of one corpse, she spun, falling headfirst into blood and bloody ashes. Though most of the world was white from the ashen rain, the ground was red from slaughter.

            Letting go of her shield seemed like a good idea to avoid it breaking her wrist. The edge slammed into her chest, knocking the wind from her as she hit pink mud.

            “Anne?” Danielle gasped, looking at the warrior who had saved her.

            “Who else?” The fighter’s voice was casual as a cat in a sunbeam, between the grunts of a fight to the death.

            Picking herself up, Sir Longbow wheezed, lungs swearing up a rainbow of pain. Her ribs agreed heartily. The ready bolt of the fourth crossbowman turned to face her as she picked up her shield.

            She had no time.

            As the bolt released, the man’s aim was ruined by his comrade slamming into his side. The two slipped in the white dirt and tangled together. Anne put her sword through the eyes of both.

            “Alive?” Anne asked.

            “Sadly.”

            “Get up then. You owe me now.”

            “How can I ever repay you?” Danielle asked, finding her sword in a pile of invaders.

            “Don’t let me die alone.” Anne’s voice had lost its jest.

            “Of course.”

            “Where to, Sir Longbow?”

            “Leonor needs us. We’re out of arrows. Let’s help our people.” Danielle said. She started walking towards the flaming city. Silhouette black branches reached towards the sky through orange flames. Volcanic ash was white on the ground, grey as it fell through the air.

            “Did they run out of soldiers?” Anne pointed with her sword to the empty hole in the wall, piled high with defenders and invaders.

            Shrugging, Sir Longbow began to jog through the mire towards screaming chaos.

            Seeing her home as a flaming ruin was heart-breaking. Seeing the maze the defenders had built to slow the advance of the imperial army made her chest swell with pride. That swell brought pain from her aching ribs. Main streets had been blocked off by cursed trees that devoured anyone foolish enough to approach them.

            Curaduile tree barricades diverted imperial soldiers down narrow alleyways where they were stabbed through windows by the spears and pitchforks of the locals.

            Danielle and Anne fought their way into the city. They stabbed imperials in the back, there were no more defenders in the west where the wall had fallen.

            Seeing a young girl being dragged into a house by four imperials, Danielle and Anne ran to her aid.

            “Wait your turn,” yelled the biggest man as Danielle burst in through the door.

            A sword in his brain ended the man’s conquest. The other three let go of the child and drew their weapons. One lost his hand to Anne’s sword. Another took a heavy bash to the face from Danielle’s shield as she kicked the last in the shin with her armoured foot. He grunted until her blade found his throat.

            “Where do you live honey?” Anne asked in a motherly voice.

            “Here,” the girl wailed.

            “Well, you can’t stay here. Come with us. We’ll find you safety.”

            “I want my mama.” The child wailed as tears cut tracks through the white ash that painted her face. She was a pale ghost after running out in the volcanic rain.

            “We’ll find her,” Anne said, her voice thick honey and cuddles.

            “Promise?” With brown sparkling eyes the girl swept white sodden curls behind her ears.

            “We’ll do everything we can for you.” Danielle didn’t want to make promises they couldn’t keep. Her mother was probably dead, or worse.

            Anne bent down, dropped her shield, and picked up the girl, short legs wrapped around her hips.

            “I could carry her.” Danielle offered.

            “You’re the better fighter.”

            “Follow me then, if you hear anything get yourself inside a house.”

Responsible for a girl no older than four they crept through streets laden with the dead. Down one alley they saw a class of Leonor defenders against dozens of imperial soldiers.

            At a hand signal from Danielle, Anne crept into a house and closed the door. That the second floor was on fire was irrelevant in the moment, death by the blade was the immediate threat.

            Danielle yanked a man at the back of the crowd off his feet and stabbed through his eyes into his brain before he could yell. The second man screamed as she pulled his shoulder. Her blade cut a new hole in the back of his throat.

            A sword stab hit the side of her helmet, snapping her neck to the side. Rolling with the blow she returned the attack. As ever, her blade found its place in the man’s eye.

            “Behind us!” Yelled one of the attackers.

            Turning as one, those at the rear made a wall with their rectangular shields.

One dropped to his knees as a red arrow hit him in the ankle. His gargled scream grew louder as branches ripped through his body, swallowing him moment by moment.

            Danielle swung her sword in wild arcs to keep the men near the man who was becoming a curaduile tree. They met her swipes with desperation, but their short swords could not match the reach of hers. As the first man began to disappear into the trunk of the tree, those at the back pushed others onto her blade to get away from death by branch.

            Screams multiplied as defenders pushed the imperials into the branches of the hungry tree.

            “Mercy,” screamed an imperial. No one answered.

            Danielle slashed a man’s forearm and kicked him into the growing mass of branches. He tripped over a root behind and was knocked out when his head hit growth on the way down. Stepping back, Sir Longbow saw that those men were all finished.

            Backtracking, she found Anne holding the child in the street. The building where they had taken shelter was starting to collapse.

            “Is she sleeping?”

            “Exhausted by the fear, I think.” Anne smiled, stroking the girl’s hair. Her sword was in its sheath at her side.

            “This is a nightmare.”

            “Pinch me then.” She sighed. “Lead on.”

            “We need to get to the castle.”

            “No argument here,” said Anne, cradling the child’s head.