It was a wretched and rainy twilight as she rode with her shoulders slumped miserably along the mud clogged trail leading to Culberry town. The only sounds were the sucking noises of the horse's hooves separating from the muck and the hiss of the downpour. She despised riding in the rain. The way her grey cloak flopped and slapped against her leather clad legs in the blustery wind annoyed her and the unpleasant smell of wet horse, wet leather and wet wool only made being cold and soaked to the skin worse. Her horse shook its mane, jingling the bit and the wind blew the flecks of water warmed by his body onto her numbed hands and cheeks. It was useless to try and keep her hood up in this type of weather which meant not only was her fair hair drenched slick to her head, but incessant drips trickled into her eyes, reddening them and making the angry green stand out all the more sharply. It was in this sorry state that Lin and her horse plodded over the small bridge across the river outside the town's wooden walls.
She had enough coin for a meal and board in the inn but that was as far as she could stretch. A festival was starting and the main event was a tournament of swords, a series of duels with no armour. Death strikes were against the rules but fatalities were common. The prize was 700 pieces of gold. How distasteful and distressing she found this whole business of killing people, it was her only way of supporting herself now that her last safe haven had been destroyed. Her heart clenched tight as the realisation washed over her again.
"Corman" A choked off sob escaped her. Corman her oldest and dearest friend, her lover, gone forever. She would never hear him laugh or sigh or snipe at her again. Never again would she see his eyes intent on a piece of metal as he tested it twisting it this way and that in his rough hands, never again would he would pull her close for a hasty kiss as they sparred together, no matter how she tried she could never beat him. He was the one who had taught her. He always said that to make a perfect sword you had to be a perfect swordsman. It hadn't saved him though and the ring of his anvil was now forever stilled and stained with his blood.
She gasped raggedly and bit down hard on her lip. No more quiet tears slipping into the dark. She could go for months now without the crippling memories creeping up on her. She couldn't bear the emptiness of it. It was not pain, she could handle pain. It was numb, black loneliness, and it was engulfing her slowly. First her sisters, then her mother and now Corman, all taken in violence and pain. She had seen the light of life go out first hand. She carried all of their deaths with her as her penance for what she now did. And yet she was all the more dangerous for that. Her once laughing face had changed to a hardened mask of perpetual pain. With the death of her lover she had felt her heart break apart, and all mercy kindness and love had been flung away with the shattered pieces. "If anything ever happens to me...just keep going Lin," He had made her promise. She cursed him for that.
Blinking the rain and the tears out of her eyes again she cast about in the gathering dark for an inn. Down a winding street slashed at irregular intervals with bright streaks of light from windows, she saw a creaking sign bearing the crude picture of an ox's head above a hearth. Nudging her horse with anticipation they trotted smartly towards it. She dismounted in a splash of mud outside the half full stable behind the Ox Head. Untying her pack slowly due to her frozen fingers she took her time to look around the warm fragrant stable. Finally the last swollen knot loosened and swinging her liberated pack over her shoulder she led the horse over to a small form nestled in a pile of hay. She nudged the stable boy with her foot and a bleary eyed head emerged.
"Yah?" He mumbled sleepily.
"Here," She said abruptly thrusting the reins at him, "Make sure he's dried down well and gets a good feed. I'll know if he isn't treated properly." She watched the boy stumble to his feet to grasp the dangling reins. He seemed to be sleepwalking as he led the large wet animal into an empty stall. He started to fumble with the saddle straps releasing them too soon; the whole thing slid and fell with a dull slap in a sodden heap on the other side of the horse making the animal look round curiously.
"Be careful boy." warned in a soft and dangerous voice close to his ear. With a guilty cringe he whipped his head round. Lin had followed him silently into the stall. He studied her more carefully than before, his eyes travelling from her hand resting on the tip of the sword hilt just peeking from behind her waterlogged cloak down to the long cruel looking daggers almost but not quite fully concealed at the top of one of her mud spattered boots and up her strong slender legs and body to her hard green eyes. Mouth ajar, he nodded once nervously with a strong feeling she knew he had intended to hang up the tack sling a rug over the horse and snuggle up in his nest of hay again. After a long considering look she turned on her heel and walked slowly out the stable door. The boy breathed a small sigh of relief and turned to his dripping charge. They didn't get many people like her in the sleepy town.
The taproom went silent as she entered as usual. Sweeping her gaze quickly around the low ceilinged smoke filled room she spied an empty table in the corner furthest from the fire but near to the stairs leading to the upper floors. Her boots clunked softly on the wooden floor as the conversations started up again around her. Peeling off her cloak and dropping it with a splat over the spare chair she sat down with her back against the wall and adjusted her sword so that it was less conspicuous at her hip. A pretty girl with brown curly hair in an apron approached her corner weaving familiarly through the tightly packed tables and bodies near the fire. Lin clenched and unclenched her fists trying to get the heat into her hands and looked up into the girls smiling face.
"Would you like some warm cider?" She asked pleasantly taking in Lin's wet hair and red hands. "There's also the stew if you want something to fill the gaps. You look all done in."
"I'll take both. And a room if you have it." She replied looking around the room again carefully from under her eyebrow, noting the frequent furtive glances from most of the men at her white shirt which was soaking. She was too tired and full of aches to care. She felt a sudden prickle on the back of her neck as her hair stood on end. She slowly turned her head to the dark corner opposite her. A lone figure in a long cloak was sitting at a small table, his large hand resting on the table grasping a mug. He had his hood up and his face was completely hidden but she felt the intensity of his stare. Her eyes travelled down his shrouded figure. With a professional eye she noted his wide shoulders and long thick legs which were stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Judging by the huge broadsword propped against the wall he was here for the festival too. He suddenly looked away as she unconsciously tensed her shoulders thinking of facing him in the arena, he looked formidable.
"We do have a room actually. You're lucky because were nearly always full during the festival. The weather must be keeping people away. Terrible for the town. Can't abide all this mud. It washes down from the hills. Raining for a whole two weeks you know –"
"Yes I noticed that," Lin interrupted impatiently not taking her eyes off the man. "The food and then the room if you please."
She looked mildly affronted by the curt dismissal but shrugged and bustled away to fetch the food. The man tossed what remained of his drink into his mouth and unfolded himself from the chair. He turned towards her slightly and seemed to hesitate but then strode out the door letting in a gust of cold wind as he left. Lin relaxed then wearily rubbed her hands over her face and pressed the heels of her hands into her raw eyes. She was used to men reacting badly to her. No man likes a woman who can beat them in a fight and the fact that she carried weapons always called a stir.
She was looking forward to a good night's sleep. She always felt so tired. She was suddenly annoyingly aware of the weight of her wet hair down her back and dragged it forwards to wring it out as the girl came back with a large bowl of steaming stew and a mug of cider. Lin pressed some coins into the girl's hand and proceeded to wolf down her meal. She burned her tongue but didn't care, she didn't even taste it. It had been days since she had eaten anything solid and felt its warmth spreading through her. When she had scraped her plate clean she stood up and stretched trying to get rid of her stiffness while surreptitiously eye the room. A few of the men stared bleary eyed at her as she strained against her damp clinging clothing their eyes snagging suddenly on the long sword dangling from her hip and quickly looking away. Stooping wearily to pick her pack and her cloak up from where it had slithered under the table she beckoned to the girl to show her to the room. She picked up her mug of cider and followed the girl up the stairs. The room was sparse but cosy with a simple rug softening the rough wooden floor and a large bed against the far wall. Opposite it was a small shuttered window. A cheery fire crackled in the hearth and a pitcher of water with a matching basin was perched on a small table beside it.
"Goodnight miss." chimed the girl as she closed the door. With a short sigh Lin strode over to the fire dropping her pack and unbuckling her sword as she went. She spread her still dripping cloak over the part of the table that wasn't taken up by the pitcher and started to unpeel her shirt and trousers. As an afterthought she lifted the pitcher and bowl from the table onto the hearth and spread the rest of the table with her clothes. She stood naked before the fire letting the heat wash over her. Finally when she was warmed through she crawled under the blankets concealing a dagger under the pillow and sunk immediately into a deep dreamless sleep.
Lin knew something was wrong before she opened her eyes. It wasn't morning yet and there was an oppressive silence all around her. She was facing the wall when she opened her eyes. The light from the fire had died down. She suddenly felt a presence in the room behind her. That was why she had awoken. There was someone watching her silently. She cursed herself for failing to bar the door somehow. Her heart started to beat harder and she slowed her breathing. She knew that if it was one of the beer soaked drunkards from the taproom there was no real threat but somehow she knew it wasn't. Sighing and stretching slightly as if dreaming she slid her hand under her pillow for her dagger. It wasn't there.
She clenched her teeth. She would have to go bladeless then. She heard a soft step towards the bed where she lay, then another. She felt a strange sense of helplessness, she was alone, naked and without a weapon in the dark and a building sense of terror robbed her of a plan. As the steps reached the bed and stopped she felt a light touch of warm fingertips on her bare shoulder. She couldn't move. This was so unlike her to be frozen. The fingertips moved slowly down her arm leaving a tingling in their wake when something snapped inside her.
Her other arm flew up and grabbed the fingers. She whirled her body around and upright twisting the fingers hard with her strong grip and tried to grab at the dark figure that loomed over the bed and strike with her knee. She managed a handful of cloth before the figures other hand whipped up and wrapped itself around the back of her neck pulling her tight his body. It was a large rough hand and it was strong. So it was definitely rape he planned. She spat out a guttural outraged growl and drove her knee up into his groin. He let out a deep pained grunt and doubled over. A large piece of shirt ripped off in her hand as she lunged for her sword. Before she could reach it the man hitched his foot around her ankle and she smacked into the floor. He was on top of her before she could recover and grabbed her wrists pinning her to the floor with his weight. She writhed and snapped wildly, trying for any opportunity to escape and do serious damage to this malicious intruder. She was in a rage and no longer terrified. She knew how to fight and he would get nothing from her without being injured.
