Page 19 of The Sundered Blade

One appeared to be a family—three adults and four children of varying ages—dressed after the fashions of Iria. One of the two men lay on the ground beside their cart, with blood on his face and the front of his coat. Two of the children were crying, while the woman argued loudly with members of the second group.

These were clearly soldiers. Eight of them, unshaven and unwashed, wearing rumpled uniforms and carrying haphazard weaponry.

“Garimorans,” Leisa muttered under her breath, as her brows drew low and her mouth pinched with anger.

“Wearewithin their borders,” Senaya noted quietly. “Perhaps if we simply ride on by, they will ignore us.”

Leisa shot her a disbelieving glance. “Ride on by, while eight armed men harass children?” Tapping her horse with her heels, she trotted forward, and Karreya followed, curiosity piqued by the scene.

“…we tried asking nicely,” she heard one of the soldiers say in a hard, angry voice. “And now we’re going to search your cart, whether you like it or not. You’re in Garimore now, which means you’ll do as you’re told.”

“Please…” The uninjured man held up his hands, palms forward, his posture one of peace. Pleading. “The cart is nothing but our personal belongings. Our food for the journey. We have nothing to hide.”

“Food!” Two of the other soldiers strode towards the cart, their faces equal parts anger and eagerness. They ripped off the covering and began throwing bags and baskets to the ground.

“No, please…” The woman started forward, but as she did so, one of the soldiers grabbed a child by the arm, yanked her towards him, and set a dagger to her throat.

“Get back, woman! Know your place, if you want your child to live. If you’re lucky, we will only take your food and you’ll be left with your miserable lives.”

His words were such a tangled mix of truth and lies, Karreya could not quite sort them out. But even in Abreia, it seemed, the strong oppressed the weak, just as they did in the Empire.

Karreya eyed the group, identifying the leader and assessing their strengths and weaknesses. Not everyone approved of their thieving—she could see it in the folded arms and eyes that lingered on the ground. But these were also not fully trained infantrymen. Two of them wore their sword belts wrong, while another carried only a hatchet. A fourth had a bow, but it was strung too loosely, and he had only three arrows in his quiver. And all of them had gaunt, sunken cheeks. Burning eyes that spoke loudly of hunger and desperation.

They would die quickly and without difficulty—even the one holding the child. He clearly did not want to hurt her. His knife was gripped in a hand that trembled, and his grip on her tunic was loose. Karreya could easily catch him by surprise and free the child with no danger.

Loosening a dagger in its sheath, she plotted her course and the order of her kills. It was possible one of the party of travelers would attempt to interfere, but she doubted they would react swiftly enough. Civilians rarely understood how quickly a battle could be over…

“Are Garimoran soldiers now such cowards that they must take hostages in order to steal from women and children?”

Leisa.

While Karreya was determining her strategy, Leisa had simply acted, riding into the midst of the tension and leaping from her horse to confront the leader of the group.

Her short sword was in her hand and her eyes crackled with anger, but she was a full foot shorter than the Garimoran captain and he was already on edge.

Karreya heard a strangled sound from Senaya, but she did not turn her head. The situation was too volatile, tempers too uncertain. The unbloodied male traveler was pressed to the side of the cart, eyes wide with fear, while the woman remained frozen, eyes on her child. The hostage sobbed silently as the knife hovered inches from her throat, while the other three children huddled together and the injured man moaned in pain.

The Garimorans had all drawn weapons—all but the one who now fumbled with his bow. And Leisa stood there in front of all of them, chin up, sword raised, without the slightest hint of fear.

Whether she was simply that skilled or completely unable to discern the danger, Karreya did not know her cousin well enough to tell. Or perhaps, like Karreya, she had determined that the majority of these men were not willing participants.

“We are doing our duty and guarding the roads of Garimore against smuggling and thievery,” the captain growled. “And you, little girl, are playing with fire. Put down the sword before you cut yourself and get out of my way.”

Leisa grinned. “Make me,” she said, and then everything fell apart.

The captain lunged forward, sword in hand, but Leisa wasn’t there anymore. She had darted to the side, using the tip of her sword to knock the dagger away from the child’s throat. “Drop,” she ordered, and miraculously, the child obeyed, allowing the full weight of her body to pull her tunic from her captor’s grasp. Falling to the hard-packed dirt of the road, she covered her head with her arms as Leisa threw her weight into the hostage taker and forced him to the ground.

That was all the time she had before the other seven reacted, but Leisa was already up and charging into the fray.

She had acted foolishly and without a plan, but Karreya was marginally impressed with her cousin’s speed and inventiveness. Leisa was clearly accustomed to fighting in close quarters with multiple opponents and had little trouble using the men’s inexperience against them.

All except the captain. That one was better trained, and Karreya had begun to consider trespassing on her cousin’s rights when the two of them clashed, sword to sword, in the middle of the road.

Blade met blade with a clang, and Leisa flew backwards as the Garimoran’s superior height and muscle overwhelmed her.

But she did not allow it to stop her. Rolling away, she drew a dagger with her other hand as she got to her feet. The other seven scrambled for the weapons they’d lost during the confrontation and it began to look as though the battle might not go well for Leisa.

“Let this teach you not to play savior,” the captain snarled as he charged forward.

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