Ailsa (A Medieval/Renaissance Romance)

Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

Ailsa couldn't believe her bought her two dresses. She would have been amazed by just one! Ever since Angus's attack, she had not been allowed to wear anything remotely nice. She was given worn out hand-me-downs from the other servants and they rarely ever fit properly. She felt pretty for the first time in years. She sneaked a glimpse at Arthur who was riding Mera beside her. His short hair moved slightly in the afternoon breeze as they headed down the isolated road. He had a contented look on his face, one that she hoped would stay there. The scent of the pine branches wafted down on them as they followed the road into the woods.

Suddenly his face turned hard, his hands pulling at the reins and motioning her to do the same. He put a finger to his lips to signal her silence. She strained to hear whatever sound had caught his attention. Then a yell caught her attention, and two men jumped out from the trees behind them, waving swords and running towards them. They wore leather tunics and had long, scraggly hair. “Ailsa, run!” Arthur bellowed. They both spurred their horses to outrun the men, but were cut off by a cart that a third man guided out to block the road. Ailsa quickly realized what Arthur did; the underbrush along this part of the trail was too thick for them to ride into the woods and go around their attackers. They had no choice but to fight back.

Arthur pulled out his sword as he jumped to the ground. “Ailsa, stay back!” He raised his sword, ready to strike at the two men who now stood before him wielding swords of their own. Their haughty laughter sent chills down Ailsa's spine. “Why have ye stopped us? Let us pass!” Arthur demanded. The men smirked, and one of them stepped forward. “Nay, we shall not let ye pass. Ye see, we own this road, and ye must pay a tax to cross it. And that tax is- well, everything ye got!” The other men laughed.

“Ye want money? Ye can have it, but let us go free.” Arthur wasn't willing to risk a fight with these men unless he had too; he was willing to lose a little coin if that's what it took to keep Ailsa safe. The man shook his head. “Nay, lad. We want everything. Yer horses, yer food, and ye and the lass will be sold as slaves. We cannae have any witnesses coming back for revenge, now can we?” He chuckled menacingly. Arthur could hear the third man coming around behind him, having secured the cart in the road. He crouched lower, prepared to defend himself and Ailsa, when an arrow whizzed past him and struck the leader in the shoulder. The man gasped, clutching the arrow as he fell to his knees.

Everyone looked in shock to where Ailsa stood, Arthur's bow in her hand and another arrow ready to fly. No one had bothered to watch her, since a woman was not usually a threat, especially one as tiny as her. Her eyes were firm, and her expression showed her resolve. “I was a slave once, I'll not be one again! Ye will let us pass freely, or I'll shoot one of you while my companion guts the other!” One of them men growled at her, still unconvinced that she would shoot a second time. She pulled the arrow back a little further. “Do ye wish to test my self control, sir? I've been mistreated by men for many years, I would very much like to vent some of my frustration.” She lowered the bow slightly so it pointed towards the man's sensitive area. “Or perhaps I'll merely drop yer balls instead.”

The man's eyes widened, and he nodded to the other man. Defeated, they dropped their swords and backed away. Arthur leaned forward and picked up the fallen weapons, including the dead man's sword. “I'll be takin' these so you cannae use them on anyone else!” He growled. “I should kill ye. Ye should be thankful that there's a lady present and I don't wish to kill in front of her, else ye would probably be watching yer insides trail along the ground right about now.” His voice was very low and very menacing. One of them men made a move towards the horse and cart, but Arthur bellowed at him. “Take yer wounded and leave, while ye still have yer worthless lives!” They turned and hobbled away, dragging their wounded comrade between them.