Kei wiped the blood from her dagger with a dead man's coat. A myriad of corpses lay in the hall behind her, but fewer than she would have liked. She had been halfway through her silent rampage when a man had grabbed a curtain in his death throws. Though tearing it down did nothing to heal the wound in his neck, it did expose her, bloody dagger in hand, to a man who was just finishing up his turn with one of the captives. The girls' screams had gone unnoticed hitherto, but the man's scream of terror spurred the others into action. Unfortunately, that action was to run.
She'd been able to chase down and slash the Achilles tendons of a few of them, then went back to finish them at her leisure. After the cries of the wounded ceased one by one, she found a guard among the corpses. After looting a ring of keys from his belt, she cleaned her blade on his coat and returned to her task of removing every chain she found from its bearer.
This girl was older, perhaps in her mid-teens, and was mercifully silent. That was good; all the screaming had begun to give her a headache, and having the person she was trying to free be quiet was a small blessing. "Sit still," Kei whispered. She set her dagger down and began trying to fit one of the keys into the lock. She was so distracted trying to figure out which key would fit that she didn't notice the waif pick up her dagger. With a sudden, jerky movement he made a wild stab at the Fractorian. Kei caught the flash of movement thrusting towards her thigh. She brought up her forearm and deflected it just in time, locking both the girl's hand and Kei's dagger into an iron grip.
"Fool!" hissed Kei, "I'm trying to
help
you!"
The girl struggled reflexively at first, then let her grip go slack. Gradually, Kei followed suit until she could twist the blade away from the girl and set it down well out of reach; she didn't trust the girl not to go for it again if she could. She resumed work on the lock, keeping a wary eye on the fair, lanky girl, and after a few more moments of fumbling, found the right key.
The lock clicked open. Kei quickly snatched up her dagger before the waif made a mistake again. Angry, she did not offer a place to stay. Instead, she said only, "You are free. Go."
The girl hesitated just a moment before scrambling to her feet and bolting for the door. Kei merely thought,
good riddance
and went back to freeing the others. It was only four girls later that she glanced up and noticed the stab-happy waif had returned, and was peeking out from behind the curtain. "What?" asked Kei irritably.
"Guards are coming."
Kei cursed. There were at least another six more to be freed, and now that she stopped to listen, she could faintly hear the clinking of chainmail through the open door. There wasn't nearly enough time to get the rest, but she'd be damned if she just left them. Making a snap decision, she tossed the keys to the waif, saying only, "Get the rest. I'll stall them as long as I can."
The girl caught them, looking stunned, but Kei hadn't the time to observe her reaction in detail; she yanked her rapier free and strode down the center of the hall towards the wide-open double doors. As she noted the armed guards approaching cautiously, led by a man in a polished silver-blue breastplate, she did a quick inventory of her weapons: daggers in each boot, one on her hip, one under her arm, and the naked rapier in her hand. Comparing that with the dozen short swords and watchful eyes approaching, she only did the most rudimentary calculation before reaching the obvious conclusion; fighting would not give good odds.
Changing tactics, she pushed the door shut and planted the sword tip on the cobblestones, in plain view, and stood still, though her mind yet raced. An impassive stance would buy some time while they attempted to negotiate, but they surely would not let her leave without a fight. Moreover, she could not speak for fear of giving away her gender; not the end of the world, but it would dramatically narrow any search made for her. On the other hand, if she ran, the guards would doubtless try to reapprehend the girls inside. That was unacceptable. So she stood her ground, thinking.
She was still trying to decide what to do when they surrounded her.
The suspicious muttering of the group stopped when the breastplate-clad man, apparently their leader, raised his free hand in greeting. "Hey." His smile seemed so easy, but his eyes held steel behind them. When she didn't respond, and didn't stand out of the way, he tried again. "We heard there was a bit of a ruckus here. Do you know anything about that?" Again, no response; so long as she kept silent, they would have very little to identify her by once she fled. Turning to two of his men who seemed substantially more on edge than their leader, he said, "Tanner, Graeves, go around back. Tully, Greene, just go around him, and check out the-"
Her reaction, in retrospect, was not the best one. They were planning to go around her and surely would capture the girls. That was unacceptable. Her knee-jerk reaction bought time, alright, but she would have to pay for it; she brought her rapier, lightning-fast, up to his neck.
"-Woah, hey, or not." When she didn't lower her sword, he tried again. "How about you tell us what you want, huh?"
When she maintained her silence, a woman he had called Tanner said, "We can take him, sir."
"I've no doubt you can," he said reasonably, "but I'm not sure if I can cast a healing spell on myself if I've got a sword through my neck, so let's play it cool for now, eh?"
That last bit was clearly directed at her. She took in his eyes and noticed something.
He's not afraid.
This was a new experience for her; even Shino had been a touch frightened of her when they had met, though his gratitude had outweighed his fear. But this man had a sword to his throat, and his eyes held only a compassionate curiosity.
She took a better look at him; he was short, but seemed to be well-built. Calloused hands and toned muscles spoke to plenty of labor, or perhaps weapon drills. His skin was the same golden-brown as hers, implying at least partial if not full Fractorian parentage. His skin was liberally decorated with scars, more on the right arm than the left, implying both that he typically used a shield and that he had faced mortal combat several times before. Yet his face had kindness beneath his angular features, and his crooked nose, doubtless broken once too often, seemed merely to accent the smile lines around his mouth and eyes. Despite an apparent history of armed conflict, Kei got the feeling that every time he had to raise his sword, it was only after he did everything he could to talk first.
Her sword tip wavered, and then dropped back to its place on the cobbles. Tanner lunged, but was caught by the leader, who held her back with an arm. "I said
wait
!" he barked, and then looked back with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," he said, then looked down and whistled appreciatively; Kei's sword had flicked out, silently and quickly, to stand between her and Tanner; had the overzealous guard not been restrained, she likely would have impaled herself.
"Sorry about that." His words were contrite, but his eyes watched the sword like a hawk.
Kind, but no fool,
she thought. Slowly, she lowered it to her side again, but kept it easy to snap back up again.
"Sir, we can
take
him!"
He rolled his eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake, Tanner! Listen: hear that?"
She looked confused. "No...?"