Hoda quickened his pace. He smelled orc on the air -- orc blood if he wasn't mistaken -- and it made him uneasy. He wanted to get through these cursed woods. The trees were hung with moss, and a foul mist drifted around, stinking of orc blood.
Up ahead, there was a large outcropping of stone next to the path. A perfect spot for an ambush. He slowed his approach, and that's when he heard the melee.
* * *
The fight had started poorly. The trouble began when the first orc had grappled her and ripped her shirt off. Nudity did not trouble her; she was an elf. But the sight of her breasts kindled their blood lust. The orc who had ripped her shirt paid swiftly with its life, and the next two fell to her blade without incident. But then before she slew the fourth orc, it had gotten under her guard and slashed her ribs, a painful wound, though not life-threatening. And in slaying the fifth orc, her sword had broken, leaving her armed only with a hunting knife to face the sixth and final orc, who appeared to be the most dangerous of the lot.
She was giving ground, waiting for a chance to strike with the knife while avoiding the orc's halberd. A knife against a pole arm. This wasn't going to be easy, she mused grimly. Then she tripped over one of the fallen orcs and sprawled onto her back. The sixth orc bore down and went in for the kill. She watched, waiting to see where the blow was going to go so she could (hopefully) dodge it and come in with the knife. But the blow never fell. A sword point erupted from the orc's chest, piercing its heart and killing it instantly. Directed by the sword in its chest, it fell to the side, and there stood a human warrior. Of course it was Hoda, who had entered the melee undetected.
He stepped forward and offered his arm to the elf woman. She took it and Hoda pulled her to her feet. She winced in pain from her wound, which was bleeding freely.
"Do you need healing?" he asked.
"Thank you, no," she replied. She went over to where her pack lay on the ground, rummaged in it, and pulled out an earthenware vial, which she uncorked and quaffed. After a few moments, the wound rapidly healed until there was no trace that it had ever been. She stowed the empty vial back in her pack, along with the remnants of her shirt.
Meanwhile, Hoda retrieved his sword from the orc corpse, bracing it with his foot and pulling the sword free. Quickly, he wiped the blade on some turf.
"We're in trouble," he said to the elf. "This was a scout party. There are undoubtedly more nearby. We'll be lucky if they don't track us and kill us. We must go now. I suggest we split up."
"I have the means to go undetected," she said. "I could share it with you, as thanks for coming to my aid, but we would have to stay together until we are well away from here."
"Acceptable," he said. "But hurry."
She shouldered her pack and walked over to him. She twisted a ring on her finger, and for a moment they were both suffused with a faint blue glow. Then it faded. "Stay close to me," she said. "I know these lands. We should head south off-road; we can join up with the road, perhaps tomorrow, a safe distance from here." She started jogging into the woods.
He followed, frowning. "Don't you want to fix your shirt?"
She smiled grimly. "Priorities. Let's get away first, and then I'll tend to my garments."
"Well, here, at least take this," he said, handing her his spare short sword.
She took the proffered sword and afforded him an appraising glance. She fastened it to her belt and resumed her jog. "Thank you," she called over her shoulder. "I'm Sara."
"Hoda."
* * *
In the heat of battle, it was easy for him to overlook the fact that she was naked to the waist. In the dull drudgery of a forced march through wilderness, he found it difficult to keep his eyes off her. She moved so beautifully, she made him feel like a clumsy oaf. He wished not to make a fool of himself, which required that he mostly keep his eyes on the terrain at his feet. But when he could spare a glance, he did.
Sara, for her part, noticed him stealing glances at her from time to time, but he made no threatening moves or gestures. She could read no indication that he would assault her, and so she didn't worry about it. Nevertheless, she kept her guard up just in case. The fact that he had given her a weapon was encouraging, but you never knew with humans.
* * *
He estimated they had gone about eight miles when Sara stopped. The afternoon was getting on towards evening, and the sun was low in the sky. Hoda stopped next to her. He was about to speak, when the momentary blue glow returned and faded.
"The magic is spent," she said. "Do you know where we are?"
"Only vaguely," he replied.
"Then we had best camp together for the night. Tomorrow I will lead you back to the road, and you can go where you will from there."
"I can't afford to just give you a sword," he said. "And I can't see you without a weapon on the road. Aren't we relatively close to Tishmon?" (Tishmon was a large town with a healthy marketplace.)
"We are about three quarters of a day from Tishmon," she said.
"We should go there tomorrow, and get resupplied, get you a weapon. After that we can part ways."
"You are very generous," said the elf. "I agree to your proposal."
* * *
They found a good camp spot with little trouble, in the lee of a hillock next to a stream. They agreed that a small fire would be safe, so Hoda took his bow and quiver and went in search of game.
Sara pulled the mud- and blood-stained tattered remnants of her shirt out of her pack. "Now let's see about you," she said, carrying it to the stream to wash it.
She was putting on the washed and mended shirt when Hoda returned to the camp with a couple rabbits.
"I must say, I'm impressed," he said, setting down the rabbits. "You have done a fine job with that shirt. Still, I think you'll probably want a new one when we get to Tishmon." He seemed to remember himself suddenly. "Not that that's my business," he mumbled. "I just meant --"
She chuckled, a musical sound that Hoda stopped talking to listen to. "I will most assuredly be getting a new shirt in Tishmon," she said. "No matter how much you wash something, you'll never get rid of the stink of orc blood." They shared a smile. "Now," she continued, "do you want to clean the game or see to the fire?"
"Given the choice, I'll do the fire; I enjoy the process. But I can clean the game if you want."
"No, no," she said, standing and taking up the rabbits and her hunting knife. "You do the fire; I'm happy to have a reason to use this knife on something other than orc."
* * *
Hoda took his first bite of rabbit and nearly choked. "Holy shit, what did you do to this rabbit?"
Sara smiled. "Herbs," she said simply. "Family recipe."
"Wow." He tore off another bite. "Thanks for sharing," he said between chews. Then he realized he was talking with his mouth full and quickly gulped it down. "Excuse me," he said, "I must seem very uncouth to you."
She smiled. "Not particularly. You are honest and guileless, neither of which is necessarily bad." She looked him in the eye. "Look, I'm a wandering adventurer. I'm out here on the road, just like you. You don't need to treat me like an elvish princess."
He frowned. "You're right. I'm --"
"And don't apologize," she interrupted.
He laughed. "Fair enough."
For a while, they ate in silence. Then she said, "I want to thank you for helping me in the fight today."
