His sweat and body odor mixed together into a foul smell that was repellant and made all the more so because I could not get away. He had pulled me up and had his back against a tree and his front guarded by my body. He pulled me around the tree, trying to see everywhere at once, wondering where the mysterious attacker would come at him next. I must have looked scared. I certainly felt it and the emotion was powerful enough that even now I get a cold shiver. We waited for what seemed an eternity until we heard a voice. The voice was coming closer and speaking to us. The voice was female and at first I found the language impossible to understand.
I had a facility for languages. It had helped no end at archaeological digs and in examining ancient manuscripts. Her language was a strange mixture of Latin, Ancient Greek and a smattering of words that I had only found in a few other Indo European dialects. I remembered enough at the time to get the gist of what she was saying and it did not bode well for my captor. "I am Princess Leanna, third daughter of the Matriarch of my clan. As a warrior of the Colayna Clan I should not soil my hands on scum like you but you have left me little choice." A figure stepped through some bushes and I saw a woman who would not have looked out of place in a Wagnerian opera.
Sometimes there are moments when we absorb so much detail that the memory is stuck with us forever. That was one of those moments. She wore sandals that were secured to her by dark brown cords that crisscrossed her calves. Her legs were perfectly formed, a delightful combination of suppleness and a hint of the muscle beneath. She wore no skirt and instead there were thick strips of leather, all embossed with the mark of her clan, and were all that hid her modesty. Roman soldiers wore a similar thing over their skirts but it seemed that this warrior preferred just the leather as it gave her greater movement in combat. Above that she wore a leather breastplate, again very similar to that the Romans wore. This one however had been cut away to allow her generous bosom room to breathe.
Her face was that of a woman about to enter her forties but that would have little to do with her true age on the island. It was a beautiful face though. I melted when I saw it. Looking back at when Richard rode to my rescue and all that followed that I only thought that I had fallen in love with him. I felt something in the pit of my stomach that day when I saw her face and it caught me off guard. That beautiful, yet strong face, glaring with hate and disdain in our direction stirred something deep within me. I blushed at the thought that I could find a woman attractive and tried to look away, yet I was drawn. Atop her brow, beneath her hairline was a gold band, signifying her royal blood, and was a fitting accessory to her dirty yellow hair that she wore in one long plat behind her head.
She advanced toward us. She had slung her bow and the quiver containing her deadly shafts. I then saw the gilt handle of her short sword at her waist. She unclipped it and the scabbard that enclosed it and tossed it aside. From the other side of her waist she drew out a dagger, not dissimilar in size to the one at my throat. "Since it is the only way I can free this child from you I will allow you to die with honour. Come, cast her aside as I have my sword and we shall do battle with our daggers." He did not understand, or perhaps did not want to accept a fight with her, but he hesitated nevertheless. You did not have to understand her words though to take her aggressive posturing and angry words to mean that she was not there for friendly purposes.
Then he pushed me aside and the pair of them moved toward each other. They moved in a circle, weapons in hand, eyeing each other, waiting for a moment the other could be hurt. They both swept their daggers near each other, their foe stepping back a pace to avoid a cut. The man took to lunging out, wanting a quick end to the fight, which is a dangerous mistake to make. Leanna sought her moment and in almost one movement, side stepped, pulled on his arm with her free hand and plunged her blade into his stomach. He began to double over and Leanna plunged the dagger in further. I winced at the obvious pain on his face but his death was unlikely to be a mercifully quick one. Leanna turned and walked away from him toward her sword. She carefully clipped it back on and then walked back. Standing over him she withdrew the blade from the scabbard and raised it above her head. "Unlike you we abhor suffering, so I will put you out of your misery like the dog you are."
The blade must have been wickedly sharp for in one stroke his head tumbled from his shoulders. She wiped the blood on his shirt before putting it back into the scabbard. "I wonder how many of our clan, our brave warrior sisters, have you given such mercy." She spat on his decapitated head and a globule of saliva dripped off his nose as she beckoned me. "Come, follow me." The words were said slowly and deliberately whilst using her gold braceleted hands to gesture where she expected me to go. I almost smiled, as it seems that regardless of century, gender, race or locale the recognised method or communication to someone who does not understand your language is the same. Say the words slowly and loudly whilst over emphasizing with hand gestures.
I overcame my instinct to laugh. There was a seriousness about her that did not seem to come from killing, but it certainly made her a better killer. She was not someone to trifle with so I followed her. Her clothing was far more revealing than mine and I wondered what polite society would have made of me had I worn similar garb. I doubt I could have worn it as well as Leanna though. I have always been slim but never any hint of muscle and my bosom could do with being larger for my height. She on the other hand was every bit the woman I was not. The leather 'skirt' (for want of a better word) swayed back and forth almost hypnotically as I followed. I saw her behind and her buttocks formed a perfect peach as they moved back and forth. I already felt strange in her company, looking at her accentuated body, but looking at her exposed flesh did something else far more basic deep within me.
I was horrified that I was looking at her in that way and tried to keep my attention on something else. I nervously coughed and cleared my throat before asking her, in a rather high pitched way, "Where are we going?" Everything she seemed to do was immediate and I was taken aback at the speed she stopped, spun around and looked me in the eye with suspicion. "How do you know our language? Were you with another clan?" I answered truthfully but simplified it. I didn't feel it was wise to say that her civilization had disappeared so completely that no one believed it existed anymore. I explained that I was an archaeologist and had studied her language. It did take some getting used to.