Slowly, we assemble in perfectly spaced rows. The men I recognize from the war room walk down the rows, moving us into place, instructing us on what to expect and what is to come.
Once satisfied everyone is in their place, the men make their way to the end of their respective rows, a hush falls over the group. A sharp tap-rat-a-tat-tap-rat-a-tat-tat-tap-rat-a-tap-tap-rat-a-tat comes from behind us. I turn my head and look over my shoulder, spotting a small boy of no more than ten with a drum strapped around his shoulders. He beats the drum with a smile on his face. The rhythm changes as he gets closer, becoming faster and faster.
When he reaches the back row of the assembled army, men on either side of me draw swords from their scabbards. I follow their lead and pull out one of my blades. We move out of the way to allow the boy to come through the crowd, the rows parting like a curtain. Tap-rat-a-tat-tap-rat-a-tat-tat-tap-rat-a-tap-tap-rat-a-tat, he continues as he moves further up the assembly.
He reaches the front where the beast is, and his drumming reaches a crescendo, his arms flying high above his head as he continues the rhythm. When the king raises his hand, palm out to the level of his head, the boy stops. I hold my breath, waiting for the signal to march. I look to my right, then to my left, down my row. I see everyone in a similar stance, weapons at the ready.
Tap-t-t-t tap-tap, goes the drum, and James nudges me. When I look at him, he jerks his chin at me. “He’s calling the archers to the front of the line,” he whispers.
I look forward and see men and women moving, bows standing over the heads of the crowd, all making their way to the front. The rest of the crowd moves to fill in the spaces vacated by the archers. I clench my jaw, raising my chin in indignation. I know the beast wants me to stay back here, but I can shoot a bow and I know I’m a damn good shot.
Steve grabs my wrist as I lift my foot. “Be careful.” I nod to him and he lets me go.
It takes me a long time to make it to the front. The line parts to either side to give me space to stand. Rat-a-tat-tat-tap-tap-tap-tap goes the drum and the people on either side of me raise their bows, drawing the strings back to their jaws. I follow suit, preparing for… what? I do not know yet.
They come at us first from the tree line, swords raised above their heads. A battle cry echoes around the clearing as they charge at us. My heart pounds in my chest. The opposing warriors get closer and closer to us.
Rat-a-tat-tat, arrows fly all around me. I take aim at the man at the front of the approaching warriors and let my arrow join the rest. I gasp when it lands true, striking the man in the chest. My breaths come faster, panic setting in. I just killed someone, I just shot someone, I just ended a life. When I look around, I see that more than half of the group has fallen. Some clutch their wounds, others lie completely still.
The ones who remain standing stumble over fallen comrades but keep coming toward us. Rat-a-tat-tat-tap-tap-tap-tap, I pull another arrow from my quiver and nock it, drawing back to my jaw. I’m incredibly grateful for the protection on my arms. Rat-a-tat-tat comes in rapid succession. We all let our arrows fly, the remaining warriors fall, and I breathe a sigh of relief that they have stopped coming toward us. I try to think of anything but the fact there is now at least one person no longer alive because of something I did.
Rat-a-tat-tap-tap-t-t-t-t-t-tap echoes around the clearing. Our frontline moves through the archers, swords drawn to walk among the fallen. I turn the other way when I realize they will not take any prisoners. The king stands watch over his men, standing next to the boy with the drum. Tap-tap-rat-a-t-t-t-tap-tap echoes around us, and I sneak a peek behind me as the men among the fallen weave back and forth, swords stabbing into each man, assuring they cannot attack us unnoticed.
With each fallen man slain, the snow grows more red with their blood. The soldiers do their best to avoid stepping into the growing puddles.
When they’re finished, they make their way back to their row and tears run down my face. I don’t know what I thought this would be like, but for some reason, I never thought about the fact we would kill people. A hand on my arm startles me and I look down, following the arm up to the face of a woman. I was so focused on being where I needed to be I didn’t even realize there was another woman standing there. Her eyes are kind and she nods to me in understanding.
Facing forward again, I avoid the eyes of the beast. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes. And I would rather avoid any criticism for being out here in the first place. Finally, I look up into his face, and his gaze is fixed on the back of our crowd. “Behind you, take arms!” The drum frantically beats tap-tap-rat-a-t-t-t-tap-tap over and over again.
From all the way up here, I hear the clash of swords. Swinging around, all I can see are swords raised over the heads of the crowd. I can’t tell which side is which. Out of the corner of my eye, I see some of the archers dart into the lines of people. They pull arrows from their quivers and nock them as they run. A hand on my wrist stops me from following. “You will stay here,” the beast demands.
I rip my wrist from his grip and glare at him. He holds a sword in one hand, it’s only now I see that he, like me, has blades and other weapons strapped all over his body. He pulls a second blade out and I loop my bow across my back again. I pull two blades from random sheaths attached to my body.
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, a smirk on his stupid face. The drummer comes to my other side. He also holds a sword, but one that is much shorter than the beast’s. His drum is now lying on the ground.
“Stay safe,” the beast says to the drummer boy, and he nods.
There is no time for him to run to safety. All we can do is make sure he stays safe within our ranks. The battle has begun. No more time for warning drumbeats. A few of the front rows face us, eyes trained on the forest behind us, to warn of an incoming attack.
From the corner of my eye, I see men running at us from the mountainside. I turn to face them as they come around the edge of the mountain and run toward us. The sound that comes out of their mouths does not sound human.
When one of the men gasps, I turn around to look at what he sees behind me. Another group comes at us from the trees. At the back of the group, they drag what looks to be another cannon. They stop at the tree line and load it.
“Can you hit the two loading the cannon?” the beast whispers in my ear. I glance at him to see him looking at the same point I am.
“I can sure as hell try.” I quickly strap my weapons back into their sheaths and get my bow and arrow ready.
“Take the shot.” The arrow flies from my fingers, true to my target. Before the first one has dropped, I have pulled another arrow from the quiver and nocked it, releasing it as the first man bounces off the ground. One of his comrades trips over the corpse when it bounces and his head slams into the ground. He does not get back up.
All of this happens in quick succession. The surrounding men come at us, unaware I have just taken out their cannon-loaders.
I’m jostled as people behind me make their way toward the attackers. The crash of armor and weapons as they collide makes me cringe. All I can do is pray for our success in the battle. Awkwardly, I hold my bow by my side, afraid of hitting one of our men with a stray arrow.
When I look around, I realize I’m standing on my own, as everyone else engages in battle. I loop the bow back around me and release the blades I had before. One blade will not come out of its sheath, and I struggle with it. While I continue to tug at the clasp, an arm wraps around my waist, the attacker’s other hand coming over my mouth, keeping me from getting any sounds out.
I struggle with everything in me as I am dragged off toward the mountain’s edge. When we’re out of view of the battle, he finally knocks me over the head and the world goes black.
* * *
I wake up in a dark cave. I can hear men converse in hushed tones. I can’t even see my fingers in front of my face. Without being able to track the sun in the sky, I have no idea how much time has passed. My stomach growls but, that’s nothing surprising. My head pounds.
“Sounds like the king’s whore is awake,” I hear, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.
“I am no one’s whore,” I spit.
“Could have fooled us the way you follow His Highness around like a puppy.” I hold my tongue, knowing I don’t need to prove myself to these thugs.
He comes through what must be the exit, holding a torch. Another man follows close behind. They both keep an eye on me as they approach.
I reach for one of my knives and find they’ve removed my straps and the armor. I’m completely vulnerable to these two men, and I pray to whatever god rules over this prison world that he/she/they will keep me safe.
The second man keeps his mouth shut, while the first continues to taunt me with his vile accusations. They each grab one of my arms and drag me into a standing position. When they pull my hands above my head, I look up and see chains dangling from the ceiling. I start to fight back, not wanting to be tied up, not wanting to give up in the fight to get out of here. “He’ll kill you, you know,” I taunt, and the silent one falters briefly in his movements.
“He doesn’t know where we are, you idiot. Secure her damn hands so we can get out of here. Do you want to be around when Hook gets here?”
Hook? Like Peter Pan’s Hook? Of course, you idiot, they’re part of a children’s story, aren’t they?
As soon as my hands are locked in the manacles, both men quickly leave the room, the only source of light going with them.