Water Lilies

Water Ladies

In what should have been a historical bloodbath of misfortune for our king's honor, was in fact our crowning achievement that brought us home. Our greatest enemy tribe from across the narrow way had found us in the dead of night between the hills of the Highlands. The fires were dim and dying, but on a night so clear in a flat place between the forest's safe shelters we made ourselves easy targets.

Almost three years to the day of my being named captain came what seemed to be the final test of my worthiness. For my regiment, Amberlance, and certainly myself, the howls of our troops waking to swords and clubs to the head roused our greatest fears: would we ever get home alive and would the woman deliver us? I remember clearly ripping away my night covers, pulling on a cloth shirt and no armor save sturdy leather slippers before dragging my sword into the dark night.

Fires were relit, but it was the tents on fire that revealed the terror. Burly men, bearded and bear-like, roared through our disoriented ranks. Young Tyr, so close to manhood, scrambled for the dagger I awarded him not long before as defense when a steer-of-a-man lifted Tyr by the back of his shirt kicking for freedom. The brute hollered with amusement and made a mockery of Tyr in front of his fellows. The boy looked ready to die from fear and humiliation and I had never felt more certain that I would have to slay a living creature before then. Of course, I had killed several men in previous skirmishes and small battles, even a rabbit for dinner a few times, but all out of necessity.

This time, however, I wanted to slay and make a trophy of a monster that belonged in children's nightmares and imaginations. He had no right to live.

"Not Tyr!" I snarled, hurtling towards the man, sword ready for the thrust. My blade slipped through his ribs and through his spine like Death through a diseased body. The monster sputtered up blood almost immediately and collapsed in a messy heap. Tyr tore away and slashed viciously at the nearest hairy behemoth, actually disarming and maiming an enemy his first time. I grabbed him, held firm until he focused on my identity, and pushed him to gather the horses to prevent their theft or slaughter. He had nodded so dumbly like a child surprised they were not going to receive a reprimand and fled through the chaos too grownup to pay notice of the slim child.

"Captain," They had cried, all of the regiment at once it seemed. "Captain, their leader!"

I saw where so many of them were pointing; the largest bear of them all stood with Amberlance in an inescapable hold in his left arm. He let out a booming laugh and raised high the bone-handle knife he most-certainly had planned for Amberlance.

I seethed.

"Lance!" I shrieked. A foot soldier slapped one into my right hand. I pulled back my shoulder and let fly a whistling shank of whittled ash tree. The last thing I heard from the Great Bear was the single note of laughter that crashed with choking gurgles of blood mixed with dying breath. Amberlance slipped out from under his arm smoothly and with an arcing swing plunged a knife between his shoulders, for good measure, he told me later.

It was due to this stroke of unadulterated fortune we won in the end. Tyr had preserved all our horses and more, because the enemy forfeited all of theirs. The loss of their leader left these beasts directionless and limp. Many fled and many more surrendered. We stripped them of honor, glory, and useful weaponry or garments. Our own losses were of blood, a couple fingers, and the one first-time recruit who was clubbed but woke the rest of us. Our king awarded him a post-mortem title of honor for service to his family. That was that; it was nearly dawn when the chaos withdrew and we could see the aftermath.

Once glossy and plush, the grass was matted with blood and gore. A dozen Bears brooded in chains by the trees and were being rewarded for their efforts with bag-carrying duties. I strode past and their angry brows shot up in the morning light; I was the captain who had slayed their great chief and I brought dishonor on their burly masculinity with a flick of my braid. My men were packing up the camp - no more sleep could come to us, now - and mounting horses. It had not been the largest battle, but it certainly marked the end of any to come in the near future with the chief dead and several dozen prisoners to show the king as evidence of our victories.