Fate's Woven Thread

CHAPTER TWO

        She rode hard, fast. Guiding her horse through tall sturdy trees, thousands of them. She leaped over hurdles and dodged obstacles. Reaching for her bow and arrow, she focused for she knew more from habit than instinct that her next and last target was nigh.

         Turning around a bend, the crudely carved wooden image with its middle marked with red paint -currently washed down to a faded brown, proof of the ever changing seasons -popped out of a tree. She nocked her arrow, aimed at the target and released. The arrow shot hard, hitting the marked spot before she swiftly guided her horse out of the thick forest.

        She rode down to the river and jumped off her horse, tying it securely to a tree before walking up to the water. She laid down her weapons and stripped off her clothes. Absentmindedly, her hand went down to stroke the scar - which went from the top of her left ribs down to her waist -as she remembered.

        He didn't know she lived, he'd sent his soldiers, no, men who would slaughter unarmed men, women and children and take pleasure in doing so were not fit to be called soldiers but dogs. He'd sent his worthless dogs to kill her and throw her remains into the forest to be fed on by vultures, but she'd survived - which was one mistake they made and one that they would live to regret -for she had sworn to make them pay with everything they had, every single drop of blood within them and even with their last disgusting breaths.

        She owed her life to a man she'd come to love as her foster father. He was one of her Sire, the late king's finest knights who had taken notice of Xavier's men as they set out to destroy her. She traced the scar with her fingers, she could still feel the pain she'd felt when the head of Xavier's ruthless brutes drove his sword into her flesh and kicked her almost lifeless body before riding away with the rest of them. She could still remember his face -for she never forgot. It was emblazoned on her mind and in her heart, the face of the one who gifted her the scar, she scowled and then relaxed a little.

        Her father's knight had taken her far away to the place they now called home and treated her wound with the little knowledge he had of herbs for he couldn't risk asking others for help. She shook her head as if to will away the ugly memory and dived into the pool of water.

        The water was cool, soothing and gentle on her skin as she allowed the low current to sway her back and forth. This was one of her favourite places to be, for she loved the enchanting smell of flowers, the gentle breeze, the beautiful scenery, but most of all, the semblance of peace.

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        She swam for hours before stepping out of the river and heading home. The hut, though nothing fancy, was as strong as the hills surrounding it. She tied her horse and unsaddled it and then dipping her hand into the leather pouch she always carried, she took out an apple and fed her horse. Glancing around, she discovered her foster father was nowhere nigh. Just as she was about to step into the hut, she saw him strolling towards the hut with a huge stack of wood resting on his shoulder.

        She walked over to him and hefted the wood over her own shoulder. " I should've gone for this if only you'd told me. " She said as she carried the wood to the hut and set it down.

        "Surely, i am not that old that i cannot carry a few logs of wood over such short distance." He said as he stretched his arms.

        "I never said you were old." She walked back to him. "And even if you indeed are, you've the strength of ten valiant warriors." She said as she grinned and planted a kiss on his thin papery cheek.

        He smiled gaily and allowed her to lead him to a tree stump to sit on. He gave her a once over and was immensely proud of the girl, nay, woman she'd become for she'd witnessed the rise and fall of over forty seasons. She had her mother's straight silky ink black hair - which, unlike her mother's, was cut short and currently held back from her face and tied recklessly at the nape of her neck. She also had her mother's full heart shaped lips and sharp brows. But her eyes, as gray as the sorcerers smoke, were the exact replica of her father's. She also had the late king's strength, intelligence and pigheadedness.