Black Moon Draw (11 page)

A blur of black streaks through my peripheral. It slams into our horse, and suddenly, I’m flying through the air. The belt connecting me to the Shadow Knight snaps. Landing hard on my back a short distance, I stare at the fog above.

“Owwwwww,” I groan at last. If my ass hurt before . . . I don’t know what I landed on, but it’s lumpy as hell.

An axe wider than my thigh splits the ground beside my ear. I yelp and scramble to my feet. One look at the Green Dawn Cave warrior and I whirl to run, only to find another four behind me.

I can’t die here.
The fleeting thought is accompanied by raw fear. I have no idea how to use the sword I’m wearing and don’t even bother to draw it. They’ll just laugh at me before dicing me in half.

An idea hits me. Gripping the medallion, I raise it.

“I’ll use this!” I cry.

The men back away.

“Now . . . get the hell away from me!”

“Witch!” It’s the squire. I can’t see him in the battle around me.

Creeping in the direction of his voice, I raise the medallion a little higher when one of the men around me takes a step to follow.

“Witch!” This bellow comes from the Shadow Knight.

“Here!” I cry.

He’s large enough to see above the crowd and he’s plowing his way through the throng of warriors separating us, chopping down everyone in his path. At the sight of him, the five around me melt into the battle.

I drop the medallion and release a breath. My dress is splattered with blood, my hands shaking.

“I told you not to leave my side!” The Shadow Knight snatches my arm.

I push at him. “I didn’t have a –”

“Silence!” His roar makes me jump. Sheathing the axe, he pulls out his sword and tightens his grip around me. “Hold on.”

Hold on?
“Are we going somewhere?” I ask.

His scent is stronger, pulling at my senses. Despite his abruptness, I’m grateful to see him. I don’t know how many warriors I can threaten with the medallion before they wisen up and realize if I had any power, I’d use it.

“Aye.”

One minute, we’re standing in the midst of his enemy. The next, my breath is snatched away, and everyone and everything around us freezes in place. We move among them the way I ran through the trees of the forest. Clutched against the Shadow Knight with one arm, I watch in horrified fascination.

Swords appear to have stopped almost mid-strike while the enemies running to attack us move almost too deliberately to see. The world didn’t really stop. It’s just slowed down.

Or we sped way up.

The Shadow Knight’s inhuman speed has knocked my breath from me. He slashes at those around us at full speed in a lethal dance that leaves no one alive in our vicinity. His heart beats quickly and steadily, his scent wrapping around me with his momentum. He’s all but carrying me; my toes barely touch the ground, and there’s a weird purple glow around him that I can’t explain.

We reach an area surrounded by Black Moon Draw warriors.

The otherworldly experience ends as abruptly as it started, and I begin to breathe once more. My senses catch up to me, the clash of metal and war cries jarring me. The Shadow Knight lowers me to the ground, and I wobble, my equilibrium slow to recover after the wild ride.

“What . . . was that?” I ask, looking up at him. He’s no longer glowing and his sword drips with blood.

“Stay behind the line,” he orders. “Disobey and I will have your head, witch!” Releasing me, he launches forward towards the battle.

There’s no line I can see anywhere. I can’t even tell where his army ends and the enemy’s begins. I’m in the middle of a buffered area about twenty feet across, ignored by those nearest me.

“Witch!” My squire’s cry is panicked.

I search the throngs around me for a glimpse of him and spot him finally. He’s a good fifty feet away, trying to flee half a dozen determined pursuers. I cringe at the thought of seeing the poor kid cut down and look around for anyone to help him.

Somehow, he wandered into an area with only a sprinkling of Black Moon Draw warriors. He’s trapped, or will be soon, if he doesn’t find a new direction. I start forward and then stop, fear piercing me.

Disobey and I will have your head, witch!

Which scares me more: being hacked apart by these soldiers or facing the Shadow Knight after?

“Witch!”

I can’t leave him to die. After all, I’m invincible. If I get hacked to pieces, I’ll wake up healed. With misgivings heavy in my gut, I dash forward. Most of the men are too focused on the warriors in front of them to notice me. I squeeze the medallion just in case anyone does and make my way towards the direction where my mostly-useless squire is headed.

One blow lands on the shield on my back and sends me sprawling. Spitting out grass, I twist to look over my shoulder. Whoever whacked me is gone. Climbing to my feet, I continue in the direction the squire is running.

The idiot has broken away from the edge of battle and is running – straight towards Green Dawn Cave’s back-up warriors, who appear to be waiting for the results of their first wave as it ploughs through Black Moon Draw warriors.

“Hey!” I shout.

It’s useless. The boy’s back is towards me. He’s barreling straight into armed warriors.

I am so not a runner. I’m already breathless but force myself to go as fast as I can. My lungs soon burn, my arms heavy, and my legs like wood. Every part of me wants to stop, but I can’t let the kid who at least tried to protect me before get hurt.

“Hey!” I shout loud enough that it hurts my throat. “Squire!”

He hears this and twists as he runs. Spotting me, he switches directions, running a wide circle around to avoid his pursuers.

Exhausted and out of shape, I stop and bend over, panting. This is reminding me of the year we had to run track and field events in high school as part of physical education. After my horrible performance, I was never asked to be on anyone’s team again.

“Man . . . that kid can run.” The squire is rounding back towards me, far ahead of those chasing him, a hopeful look lighting up his face. His sword is gone. He reaches me, breathing hard, but nowhere near as spent as I am.

“Witch, use your magic! You can blast them away!” he says eagerly.

“Take my sword and . . . defend us,” I gasp. “I gotta catch . . . my breath.”

With a glance over his shoulder, he obeys and takes up a position in front of me, the sword raised like a baseball bat. I’m no swordswoman by a long shot, but I don’t think that’s the way he’s supposed to hold it.

How did I get the one incompetent squire in the army? Is this a reflection of what the Shadow Knight thinks of me? Shitty witch, shitty squire?

“Witch, mayhap you should prepare a spell,” he advises.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” I straighten.

The six men are almost upon us.

“What would you think about running?” I ask, shuddering at the sight of their swords. I may survive a confrontation. The kid with me won’t.

Whipping around, the squire takes my hand and bolts, all but dragging me with him. He’s strong for being so skinny; it’s me who slows us down.

Someone collars me, grabbing the back of my dress and yanking me back. I tumble to the ground, inadvertently bringing down the squire with me. Rolling to my knees, I hold up the medallion.

“Don’t make me use this!” I cry.

The attackers freeze, indecision crossing the expression of every one of them.

“Kid, come here!” I order the squire urgently.

He complies, scrambling to me.

“Our orders,” one of the warriors said to the others, clearly trying to convince himself as well as the others. “The witch dies!”

“Do you remember the last battle of Green Dawn Cave, where the battle-witch annihilated every last member of the army?” the squire cries. “’Twas the greatest defeat in the history of our realm! She will do it again!”

The men freeze in place once more.

“Good job, kid,” I murmur. More loudly, I quote the Shadow Knight. “To speak of the past is to invite its reoccurrence!”

“Do you recall how she did it?” the squire continues. “By boiling every man in his skin where he stood!”

Yuck.
Is that the type of thing I’m supposed to do as a battle-witch? What a painful way to die. I can’t see myself ever doing that, even now.

A look around us indicates the men are still not yet convinced to leave us be.

“Kill her quickly,” one says. “We must protect our men.”

Shit.
They took it the wrong way.

The six close in around us.

I snatch the squire and shove his body beneath mine the best I can, willing the shield at my back to protect us both.

“You can use your magic,” he whispers hopefully.

“I can apparently take a beating. Wait ‘til they chop me up then run, okay?”

He gasps. “I cannot leave you! I shall die at your side!”

Melodramatic much? “Look, kid-”

“I have never bedded a woman or eaten a sweet cake,” the squire moans. “Now I will die without ever knowing those pleasures!”

I almost laugh. The image of Red Velvet pancakes flashes through my mind and I silently agree that I’d love to have one more stack before dying.

The first man reaches us. He raises his sword and I close my eyes, praying to pass out the first time they chop off something.

The medallion grows hot at my chest. Electricity sweeps through me in waves strong enough to sting. I jerk and grab the medallion by its leather necklace, holding it away. It’s pulsing purple. “Goddamn that hurt!” I mumble. The sensation fades.

Sneaking a glance at impending doom, I sit up.

The six men around us are lying flat on their backs.

The squire unfolds from his tight ball huddled close to the ground. His expression is dazed.

The battlefield has gone completely silent. I look around, not comprehending what’s going on. Are we stuck in slow-mo again? If so, why did the men around us fall down? They simply froze in place before.

The warriors of Black Moon Draw are standing around on the battlefield, their expressions ranging from baffled to triumphant, their movements at normal speed.

Their opponents have vanished.

The squire gives a loud whoop and hops to his feet, darting away.

Climbing up more slowly, I take in my surroundings and spot the Shadow Knight in the center of the crowd. With a sigh, I start towards him, trailing the squire sprinting at full speed towards the knight.

I trip over something and look down. There’s a Green Dawn Cave man at my feet, sprawled out and unmoving. “Omigod!” Cringing at the thought of stepping on a dead man, I yelp when his eyes fly open.

He grimaces, wriggling and straining, as if he can’t stand up. The flattened man beside him is grumbling and cursing, the half a dozen beside him wriggling and grunting.

Astonished, I search the knee-high grasses visually. Their entire army is flattened on their backs. Turning to face the direction the ill-fated squire had been headed, I’m shocked to see only horses where the army had been before. Light glimpses off sword blades and helmets as men squirm in the grasses at the feet of their steeds.

What the hell happened? Puzzled by the strange sight of men sprawled out as flat as . . .

Pancakes. My hand goes to the medallion. Did I somehow trigger this bizarre turn of events when I thought of pancakes?

“How weird would that be?” Shaking my head, I face the way back towards the Shadow Knight.

He’s almost reached me, the joyful squire at his heels. “Good, witch,” he says in approval.

My mouth drops open. “What? I didn’t . . .”

He glares at me, eyes gray with battle lust.

“Sweet cakes!” the squire nearly squeals.

“That’s what I was thinking of when it happened,” I admit.

“Sweet cakes? In battle?” The Shadow Knight sheathes his sword at his back and pauses an arm’s length from me.

“We were about to die. It was kind of like a last wish.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s surprised right now. His eyes narrow and he rests his hands on his hips, intense gaze on mine. It’s enough to make me blush self-consciously. After a long look, he faces the squire.

“Where is your sword?” he demands.

“G-gone, sire.” The boy ducks his head.

“’
Twill not happen again.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

Even I flinch at the dangerous tone. I can’t help but pity the kid. He’s not exactly cut out to fight battles. His ears are red with embarrassment.

“He did his best,” I say, wanting to help the kid.

“His
best?
” The Shadow Knight swivels his boar’s head in my direction. “You do not win wars by trying, witch! You win by killing. The next time you decide to help me fight a battle, kill them! Save me the trouble of feeding slaves and paying for their journeys to the edge of the world!”

Furious, he marches away.

Ouch. That was totally not called for.
You’re welcome, dick.

The squire sneaks a look at me, a faint smile on his features before he ducks his head again. Waving for me to follow him, he leads me back towards the Black Moon Draw horses.

Adrenaline starts to fade, replaced by fatigue. Not all of the men we step over are pinned in place. Some are dead, having suffered barbaric deaths at the hands of the Shadow Knight’s men.

I can’t stand the sight of blood. One part of the battlefield is soaked with it, the ground squishy with mud created from the red liquid. Nauseated by the sight, I cover my mouth.

I can’t do this.
My heart hurts for these men, even if they wanted to kill me.

The tears start when I see the pile of heads the Shadow Knight’s men are making, and I turn away.

“What saddens you, witch?” the squire asks tentatively.

“Battle,” I say, sniffling.

One of his eyebrows goes up quizzically. “Oh.”

“It’s okay if you don’t understand. I don’t like seeing people hurt is all.”

He gives one of his half-nods, the one that makes me think I’m speaking a different language. “We are learning together, witch,” he says with the confidence of a teen that’s never seen how mean the world is.