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Bloodkiss/Hellbent

B

Bloodkiss

Star
Joined
Mar 7, 2009
Location
In your freezer.
Caoimhe hurried down the hall, rushing from her father's room. He was delirious, in and out of fever dreams for days. And now his walls were going to be attacked. With him on his sickbed and his best knight away, his men were at their wit's end. It was utter chaos in the barracks, and they would all pay if the men couldn't get their heads straight. It had been foolish of her father to send off all the worthy knights. Now the men had no leader. Well, she would see that an end was put to this nonsense.

She ran to her room, grabbing the sword she hid in a large wooden chest. Pulling a cloak over her shoulders, she unwrapped the black silk that bound the sword and tied it to her waist. Just as she was heading toward the door, it opened and her maid bustled in. "What are you doing up so late, miss?" Caoimhe fumbled for words, and finally settled on the truth. "If you breathe a word of this, I'll behead you myself." The woman gasped, but didn't look seriously frightened. She was friends with her mistress, and would keep any secret she had. She'd kept it a secret that Caoimhe had been practicing with swords instead of sewing since her thirteenth birthday. "What is it?" Caoimhe sighed and sat on her bead, the sword poking from beneath her cloak. "I'm going to lead the men into battle on sunrise." Her maid gasped, and this time real terror marked her features. "You can't! You'd be putting your life in danger!" "What choice do I have? We shall all perish if the men are left with no smart leader!" She stood and pushed past the woman, out into the hall. "Please don't tell. I know how to defend myself. I shall be fine, you'll see."

She ducked into the armory, dimming her lantern. All of the men were either on the walls, or asleep, giving her just enough time to spirit away some equipment while it was still dark. She snatched up the things she would need and made her way out of the castle proper. She pulled her hood up around her face and sneaked out into the village with her things and her horse. When morning came, she would assume the guise that might very well save them all. But it needed to appear real. She needed to go out into the woods, and from there she would dress as her father's most favored knight, and she would bring order to this madhouse. She would don the armor in the woods and then ride toward the castle, just before their enemy's army crested the hill. The soldiers' morale would be boosted, and they might have a chance at winning.
 
The general was fast approaching the enemy kingdom. He was large and menacing on a brown steed, wearing gleaming armor and his kingdom's crest on his buckler. Directly behind him were his archers. The battering rams and war machines preceded the archers. Then the ladders, then the heavy infantry, the light infantry and so on. It was a rather odd strategy. The point was to prevent a long, drawn out siege and to take the castle quickly.

Flagging these impressive troops were war drummers and heralds. Surprise attacks, though effective, were too dishonorable. Sure, you could take a kingdom by force, torture and ravish its inhabitants and raze it to the ground, but of course you had to be chivalrous about it. The general himself blasted his trumpet, leading his men over the mountain. He waved his shining broadsword. What he was being, a Jew wouldn't eat.

Though he oversold his delivery, he was at least a competent strategist and swordsman. Some even called him clever. He even planned to be (Jove forbid) ambushed during his route. Hence the archers had their short bows at the ready to deliver a deadly barrage at any direction. The long bows, however, were reserved for a possible siege. Since the longbow could send its arrows at a greater distance than the deadly short bow, the clever general recognized its value for raining horror and death over a city's walls.
 
Caoimhe heard them approaching, and rushed out of the woods, clad in full armor that hid her feminine form and mounted on a huge white warhorse. She spurred the beast to move as fast as he could, and before she knew it, she was in the castle keep, directing the men to prepare for battle. Amidst the chaos, no one seemed to question her identity. Soon, they were riding out to meet their opponent, with her at the head of their small half-army. Most of the men were out with her father's knights, and they had only a few hundred left to protect the castle. Her father was not a wise commander when he was ill. Their enemy crested the hill, and she saw their leader. Drawing her sword, she readied for a bloody battle.
 
It was almost exactly as planned. The enemy horsemen marched up the hill to greet them. The general blasted three notes on his trumpet to command the short bows to be let loose while he raised his kingdom's banner high. This left him just enough time to greet the brave warrior who was riding his way. Judging by the armor and decorations, he inferred that this equestrian was of rank. Dead or alive, he saw a trophy approaching. He held his buckler up protectively and swung his sword the first chance he got. It wasn't a very clever attack, but with the buckler, he didn't need to put too much effort into the blade work.
 
Caoimhe saw the leader swinging his sword, and his lack of skill almost made her laugh. She carried no shield, only her broadsword, confident in her ability. She rushed to meet him, blocking the blow with her own blade. Her horse whinnied, but didn't flinch or move away. He was just as brave, and possibly stupid, as she.
 
As planned, she blocked the clumsy attack, but that exposed her sword. Perhaps even as long as he needed it exposed. Keeping tension on her blade with his own, he made to attack her blade with his buckler. The buckler was but an extension of his gauntleted fist. Though defensive in nature, the general was very skilled in using it offensively, thus taking his enemies off guard. Once he even one a duel with only the buckler and no blade.
 
Caoimhe was indeed uprepared for the attack, and was jolted in her saddle. The blow was hard enough to knock her helmet loose, and a portion of her long, sunset-colored hair slipped free. She surpressed a gasp, trying in vain to stuff the hair back into her helmet with a clumsy, gauntlet-clad hand. Cursing under her breath, she gave up on hiding the hair and swung her sword out at him, lashing out angrily.
 
He met her blade with his buckler and made a quick upward sweep with his sword. The movement was meant to lock her blade to his shield so he could disarm her. That was one of the maneuvers that won him his rank. Just then, he noticed the long hair. So it's a woman? Now that's a trophy. He certainly had to keep this one alive and in as close to a single piece as possible -- for a while, anyway.

((Please pardon my absence. Life happened.))
 
((It's alright. It tends to do that. Lol. ))

Caoimhe growled as he attempted to wrench her sword from her hand. Hoping to surprise him and buy time, she let the sword go without a fight. In one swift move she leapt from the horse's back and slapped his rear, sending him whinnying and kareening off and away from the battle. Drawing the shortsword that was strapped to her other side, she readied for battle once more.
 
The general was only slightly puzzled. He realized he wasn't dealing with a military genius when she jumped off her horse and drew a short sword. He predicted she'd have a hell of a time hurting his horse with that sword, much less himself. He did not spend all his precious time reflecting on that. He set aside his buckler, held his sword in a two-handed grip and swung it down at his enemy. While he was doing that, he gently urged his horse forward as best he could without the use of his hands. The idea was to keep her off balance and let his animal do most of the work.
 
Caoimhe ducked beneath his sword and rolled to the side, holding her own blade up to defend against his. She no longer hoped to defeat her opponent, only to escape alive and unmasked. It would not be the first time this man had escaped their forces, and it was a small price to pay in order to keep her identity a secret.
 
Just where he wanted her. The general slapped his horse's rump to send it into a gallop. Basically, he set to trample her. Of course, he didn't expect her to just sit there and die under his mount's hooves. He always thought several moves ahead. He just hoped his standard bearer wouldn't do anything stupid and get in the way. He was only really good for holding up that damn standard.
 
She cursed under her breath as she watched him charge at her, and rushed to get out of the way. The battlefield was crowded, and she tripped over the body of a young soldier, surprising her. A stray arrow whistled through the air and struck her arm. Gasping audibly, she dropped the sword and stared at the offending arrow, shocked to see it protruding from the small gap in her armor just below her shoulder.

Somehow the charging horse no longer seemed a threat, and time slowed to an unbearable crawl. She felt the blood coursing roughly through her veins, pounding away inside her head. She was no stranger to pain. She'd been struck with a blade before. But the pain did not compare to this. This was a searing, stabbing pain that left her chest feeling hollow and dull. This pain was one that swept the breath from her lungs, shocking her into stillness until it was almost too late.

The world crashed over her once more, and she remembered where she was and what was happeneing. Barely able to move, she managed to evade the horse's hooves by a hair's breadth. She picked her sword back up in her left hand, sincerely wishing they hadn't struck her good arm. She could not fight well with her left, and knew that it would be a miracle if she escaped alive this day.
 
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