Richmond’s Warrior- Intro

Pain. So much pain. Legs throbbing, hot blood prickling through her thin dirty rags of a dress. Head on fire, cold sweat mingled with rain running down her shivering body. But worst of all was the drum. Loud merciless pounding in the chest that pained her throat as if she were swallowing molten gold. And the beat of it in her head, the drum of doom. Any minute now, any second they would gain on her and even gods wouldn’t dare thinking what end she were to meet. But it was an end alright. There was that unmistakable stench of it in the air, the iron taste of it in her mouth. And yet she ran, ran like fire. Another spasm of pain lancing through and it was a struggle to breathe, an invisible hand of death clutching tight the insides of her ribcage. But she felt none of it, except the speeding drum.

The sword of the sky escaped the sheath for an instant, it’s sharp steel with a blinding flash, and a midnight cloak waved over it again in a sudden gust.

Kill, you have enough power to kill, why don’t you kill them all? She thought. If not them, kill me! Now! I wish I could kill them all! She gnashed her teeth, as red iron ran down her chin. Legs gave a stumbling wave. No. She ran. The shouting and the clanging of heavy armor was getting nearer. The drum. The agony. She could not comprehend. There was no desire left for living, not even a trace and yet she ran. Stop. Stop. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. And yet she ran. Wet, heavy locks of hair slashing across her face as some evil power turned her glance back. Another stroke of pain, and this one was impossible to ignore. A tip of a cold iron peered through her ankle and she went down with a shriek. A heavy load pressed her to the wet boggy ground and a loud tear of a cloth sent a drum into a tune of madness. A scream urged itself but all that came out was a splash of dark thick liquid as a heavy hand met her cheek. “Keep it down, bitch!”

She struggled but the weight was too great to fight. A madness took over her that instant and a clutching hand let go of the guts, as she felt a hard face of a rock under her hand. A splash of hot red blood went across her stomach and finally provoke the scream, as another shape moved hurriedly in her direction, yellow teeth cursing. A couple of others were behind, baring their steel. Slippery mess went in-betweens her fingers as she tried to crawl, but the arrow wouldn’t let the other leg move at all. The drum, the gnashing teeth, the iron taste, the molten gold hardening by the second.“Please…”

A sword glanced in the sky once again, a flash over the wet heads of the trees and down it went, the great steel cutting through the heart of the earth and everything turned into a face of snow, all pale and glittering under the sun. The drum was gone. Instead a piercing sound filled the air, so sharp it almost made her wish the thumping back.

A great roaring laugh rolled through the night, as the midnight cloak waved back, so dark and heavy it slowly muffled every other sound except her rapid breaths, and utterly covered all existence. The last thing she saw was his face. A great fire closing at all sides, the same clamor of moving weapons, steel on steel, the wailing and the shrieking terrors. And his face. The fright in the glittering pools of his eyes. “Go! Ride hard and do not look back.” She said, clutching his little hands around the reigns. “Please…” The pools broke as if pierced by needle, sending bitter springs down his soft cheeks. She shook her head. “I promise. Don’t look back, little brother.” She gave a hard slap on his mare, sending it off into a gallop.
“Please…” She heard for the last time.

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