Her skirts had fallen back down and she stood there, hands bound, blouse covering her breasts again but hanging open until her navel. She looked around her and saw the other four men from the raiding party lying on the ground, dead. Panting, she looked up through her long lashes, blinking, to see who had come this time. He was a knight, wearing a sword and leather armour with the emblem of the king.
He stepped towards her, and reached his hand out to her, wiping the strands of hair out of her face and looking at her intently.
She expected him to rape her again. She already braced herself mentally, when instead he asked, "How did you get here?" with a warm, empathic voice.
She didn't answer. "Lets get you bundled up," he said, cutting the ropes loose and freeing her wrists, and throwing his cloak around her shoulders. He picked her corset up from the ground and put it in the saddlebag his horse was carrying.
"You're going to be all right," he said, after a while. And then, softly, "I'm so sorry I came too late to save you". His voice was laden with grief.
"You're safe with me," he said, after a silence. And he put her on his horse, and they rode off through the forest, careful to avoid the road.
***
She wrapped her arms around him tightly and she let her head rest on his back. She was tired.
After a while she rose from her sleep, feeling the rocking of the horse had stopped. He swung his leg over the horses neck and looked up at her, stretching his arms out towards her to help her off the horse.
She leaned over to him and let his strong arms grab her and put her on the ground.
Her wide white blouse was still open, draping over her body with a wide gap going down the middle of her chest and into her skirt. Her disheveled, voluminous dark hair hung around her shoulders and back.
He pulled her corset from his saddle bag and handed it in her direction.
"Who are you?" she asked, slowly taking it from him.
He went to sit on a stone, starting the proceedings of making a fire. "I'm Lucan," he said, looking down at his workings, giving her the discretion to put the corset back on and do up the lacings, closing her blouse. "I'm a knight of the realm of Dagomore." That was the country they were in.
"What happened on the road?" she asked. "Were you with the convoy that was attacked?"
"I was," he replied. "We were escorting the prince to Windester when we were attacked by a band of bandits, obviously knowing we were coming. They were out for the gold," he said. "We hurried the prince to the nearest fort and then I returned, having a feeling that the brigands would stick around."
A silence fell, and he concentratedly smashed two firestones together, trying to light a flame. They both knew what happened next.
"When I heard you scream, my heart turned cold", he said, breaking the silence.
"I saw them rape you. Ravishing a girl like you." His voice broke. "I'm so sorry," he continued. "They should burn in hell forever".
"I don't see why it should change who I am," she said. She was dressed again, her wide sleeves falling loosely off her shoulders, corset laced up again. She was still shocked, but determined not to let it define her. She looked into his eyes defiantly. "Yes it hurt, but men's pricks aren't so important that they change who a woman is. Although they think that".
She turned around, skirt swiveling, arms crossed, all of a sudden overmanned by emotions. He got up and wrapped his arms around her, burying her face in his shoulder. "No, they're not," he said, smiling. Then, softly, he added "You were a virgin, then?".
"I was," she replied softly. "Not that that matters now".
He let go of her and they both went to sit by the fire. "Or will nobody want me now?" she added, sarcastically.
"Everybody who would reject you, would be a fool", he said, taking her hands. "And it *doesn't* matter," he added. "... but maybe it makes a difference to *you*". He bitterly turned back to the fire. "I should have been able to defend you".
"It wasn't your fault that this happened, and it wasn't mine, It was theirs." She said bitterly. "It's the men that do this, that are to blame. Nobody can protect us from that."
***
The next morning, she got up from the plaid she had lain on, looking around her. A small fire was burning and Lucan was rummaging in the bushes.
He turned around, with a hand full of berries. "Here, have some," he said.
With a pang she thought back to her fallen basket of berries that she had spent almost a day picking, the day before. She let him shake his pickings in her hands and she put some in her mouth, sunken in thoughts.
The last night had been awkward. They had gone to sleep without dinner. He'd spread his plaid on the ground beside the fire. "It's much too cold to sleep alone," he' said, lying on his cloak. "I can keep you warm".
Silently, she had reacted by laying down in front of him, closely, pulling the plaid over them. He had put his arm around her to warm her, and pulled the plaid up unto their faces. And like that, they had slept, sharing each others natural warmth.
She was roused from her thoughts by his voice. "What's your name?" he asked.
She looked up at him. "Maeve," she said, redirecting her eyes to the fire.
"Where do you want to go?" He asked. It was evident he asked in order to escort her.
"I want to go back to my village," she said. "I have a house there."
