treachery | t. holland

11. fight or flight

The big men were grinning in triumph.

"Tony— what do we do?" You said, frozen on the spot.

But a second later you heard a rustling beside you. You turned to see what he was doing and caught one last glance of the back of his dark hair before it was whipped out of sight down the road. He was running away.

The biggest of the men began to laugh. "So much for Pretty Boy. Hey, how much do you think we'll make if we bring the girl in with us?"

His friends chuckled and started moving down the hill towards the pond.

Most of the geese had figured out what was going on, and the ganders had grouped together to form a protective circle around the females behind you, hissing like mad. But you knew it wouldn't do any good. They would all be captured and killed.

In the back of your mind you saw Tufty and her mate chopped up and served on a platter and your lips tightened into a thin line.

As the four men lumbered down the incline, you stooped to pick up your wooden crook. Giving a placating gesture for the animals behind you, you closed your eyes for a brief second and called upon the wind to aid you.

"Oh, look, the little girl isn't running away like her friend."

You opened your eyes and took your crook in both hands.

"Hey, lady, scram unless you want to come with us. We're taking these gooses for uh..." He grinned. "monetary purposes."

You swallowed once and placed your feet in a defensive stance, as if bracing to steady a startled colt. "These are the king's royal geese, and they are under my protection. Leave now if you wish to keep your limbs."

All four men burst out laughing.

"Well," you mumbled, "I warned them."

You were feet away from each other when the first man swung.

You ducked his blow, catching his left ankle with your curved crook and urged the wind to help. With a sharp tug and a gust of wind, the man fell flat on his face.

There was no time to waste, two more of the group were advancing over him with annoyed looks on their faces.

You backed away, crouching slightly to shield the geese. They were honking loudly, still circling each other, still pressed tightly into a group.

One man threw a snare at you while the other yelled a war cry that was so loud you flinched. But the snare never hit you. It passed just to your right and flew into the pond with a splash.

The sudden change in direction was so startling to the man who had thrown it, he was almost paralized from shock. "Listen, lady, I don't know who you think you are, but--"

"AHH!" The man who had yelled came running towards you.

In a miraculous moment, you saw an image in your mind's eye, coming from the wind, of someone ducking down and hooking someone's foot just right.

You bent to the wind's will and doubled over as the man swung a meaty fist at you. His momentum carried him faster than he'd anticipated and was instantly tripping over your small form. With one expert yank, you looped his foot beneath your figure with your crook and stood up, pulling him to the ground.

You were ready to be impressed with yourself when a desperate and angry cry sounded from behind you and you whirled around in a flurry.

The leader was snatching at geese, having used your moment of distraction to circle around and attack from behind.