Unyielding Warrior

Unyielding

The clang of swords echoed across the blood-soaked battlefield as Lady Aelia fought with all her might, dodging the slashing blades of the enemy soldiers surrounding her. Sweat dripped down her face, mixing with the grime of war. Her armor was dented and her muscles ached with fatigue, but she refused to yield.

Aelia was one of the rare female knights in the kingdom's army. She had trained hard to prove herself equal to the men, and her prowess with a blade was legendary. But now, as the enemy closed in, their numbers far greater than her own dwindling forces, Aelia knew her time was running out.

Suddenly, a crushing blow struck her helm and the world went dark. Aelia crumpled to the ground, her sword falling from numb fingers. As her vision swam, she saw the enemy soldiers closing in. Brutal hands grabbed her limp form, dragging her away to an unknown fate.

Aelia awoke in a cold stone dungeon, her head throbbing and her body bruised. She was stripped of her armor and clad only in a thin tunic. The heavy iron door creaked open and a large, brutish man entered. He wore rough leather armor and the emblem of the enemy kingdom. A leering smirk spread across his face as he looked her over.

"Well, well, what do we have here? A captured she-knight," he sneered. "Seems like you're in our hands now, and we know just what to do with you."

Aelia glared at him defiantly even as her heart raced. She had heard the rumors of what the enemy did to captured enemies, especially female soldiers. But she would not cower before this brute.

"Touch me and I'll cut out your tongue," Aelia spat.

The man just laughed. "Oh, you'll be singing a different tune soon enough."

He grabbed her arms and dragged Aelia to her feet, shoving her out of the cell and down the dank dungeon hallway. Aelia stumbled but refused to make a sound.

The man pushed her up narrow winding stairs and into a dim room above. A heavy oak door slammed shut behind them. Aelia blinked in the brighter light.

She found herself in a lavish bedchamber, with a huge four-poster bed draped in rich furs. Elegant furnishings and tapestries covered the walls. And sprawled on the bed, a man.

He was tall and lean, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His angular face was arresting and handsome in a cruelly beautiful way. He wore only a loose white tunic, leaving his muscled legs and chest bare. He was having his hair and beard trimmed by a servant, who scurried away when they entered.

"Well, bring her here then," the man commanded in a deep voice.

Her captor shoved Aelia forward. She stumbled and fell to her knees before the bed. The man looked down at her with cold appraisal.

"Quite a prize you've brought me today, Griswold," he said. "A female knight, and still young and pretty too. I will enjoy breaking her."

Aelia lifted her head to glare at him. "I am Lady Aelia, knight of the realm. And I will never submit to the likes of you."

The man smiled, a cruel twist of his lips. "We shall see about that. I am Prince Ryker, and I always get what I want."

He stood and circled Aelia slowly, eyeing her like a predator. Then quick as a snake, he reached out and grabbed her braid, yanking her head back.

"Strip," he ordered.

"That is quite enough!" Aelia tried to twist away but his grip was iron. "I am a knight, not some harlot for your amusement!"

"Strip," Ryker repeated coldly. "Or I will have Griswold do it for you. I have seen what he does to women. You would not enjoy it."

Aelia gritted her teeth and reached for the hem of her tunic with shaking hands. Tears of rage and shame pricked her eyes but she blinked them back. Slowly, she drew the garment over her head and let it fall away.