Lions of Men

Chapter 29

Rakurih had decided not to return to Theocales' and Meryolis' tent. After being mocked and repudiated, she was in no mood to put up with anymore of their antics. Now that most of the revelers had gone to bed, Rakurih decided to explore a bit. She knew it was probably not the safest thing to do at this time of the night, but she felt she could handle a few sluggards who were more than likely too be plastered to try anything.

Sure enough, when Rakurih took an old familiar route to an area where her favorite tree stood, she crossed a few soldiers who were idling about. There were torches lit all along the path, so Rakurih knew they had already seen her. She pulled the hood attached to her dress over her head and kept walking.

"Hey you!" she heard one of them call out as she passed, but she ignored them.

"You there, stop at once," she heard him shouting. "What's the matter? Do you have dung in your ears? I've asked you too..."

The soldier stopped and stood mesmerized when Rakurih turned toward him.

"Well bless my loins," the he slurred, Obviously inebriated. "What's a little pleasant peach like you doing out this time of the night? You didn't happen to escape from one of the slave caravans did you?"

Rakurih couldn't resist toying with the drunkard. "What an interesting question," she said. "Do I look like a slave to you?"

"Don't be tart with us, madam," said one of the other soldiers with him. "My lord asked you a question."

The soldier who first approached her glared at his comrade. "Shut your mouth you little piss-ant. It was just a joke. She doesn't look like a prostitute."

"Oh no," Rakurih said, putting up her hands. "Maybe the piss-ant is right. Perhaps I escaped my sex-driven overlords with my life, disguised myself in these garbs and celebrated my new-found freedom by taking a stroll out here in the open."

The first soldier chuckled and hunched his men. "I like this one. She's got spunk. Don't you, my little firecracker," he said to Rakurih. He playfully growled at her and bit the air.

"You are an odd looking man," Rakurih replied.

"Watch your mouth, peasant winch," the piss-ant warned her. "Do you not know who this is? He's the captain of the Namaphalian southern archer forces."

"Wait," Rakurih said. "You're an officer? Impressive."

"Of course it is," the captain said. "What do you say you and I find a nice quiet spot and have some fun, shall we?"

"I was being snide, you dolt," Rakurih said. You're not that impressive; not even in the least. There are at least twenty thousand officers here, and if I fancied a good romping, it sure wouldn't be one with a girth problem and an overbite the size of a horse."

The captain gaped at her in stunned disbelief. "Ok, maybe the piss-ant is right. You might not be a whore, but you sure have a mouth like one. Time to teach you a lesson." With that, he snapped his fingers, and the other two men surrounded her. "Open wide," the captain sadistically grinned, loosening his belt.

Just then they heard a sword being removed from its sheath. The soldiers stopped and glanced around.

"Who goes there," the captain said.

A seething Prince Rodmere stepped out of the shadows with his sword drawn. The men stared at him as if they had seen a ghost.

"It's Lord Rodmere," the piss-ant said.

"I can see that," the captain said. "But what hath we to do with thee, Son of Ares? She's just a peasant winch."

"The peasant winch is with me," Rodmere said, advancing upon them. The men backed off and fled as fast as they could go.