Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The tips of Frieda's fingers were beginning to grow numb from the amount of arrows she had shot. Her quiver was growing lighter by the second, and her basic instinct for battle was overwhelming her.

"Do not even think about it," Frieda spoke to the wind as she noticed a Roman soldier sneak up behind Leonidas, growing too close to the children.

She shot an arrow straight into the back of his hand when he reached out to grab Cassia's shoulder; her second arrow found his throat.

Leonidas gave her a small nod of thanks before he turned and attacked the next guard in his attempt to flee.

From her vantage point in the tree, Frieda could see that they were outnumbered nearly three-to-one, and more infantry were beginning to arrive from the camp.

They had had worse odds in the past, but their thoughts were focused on their children, and they were not as young as they used to be.

A fact Frieda's knee seemed to agree with as it began to seize up from where she was kneeling for too long.

Making a decision, Frieda armed her bow and turned in the direction of the fort. Tilting backwards, she raised her bow high and aimed for the sky.

The arrow shot through the density of the forest trees and into the clear morning sky, signalling Marcia and Lazarus who were waiting near the fort with the horses.

Frieda was only supposed to signal them once Ahern, Cassia and Zeph were free but they did not have the time. She was apprehensive about bringing her daughter into a battle but if there was one thing Marcia had proved, it was that she could handle herself in a fight.

The same way Frieda would have to when an arrow suddenly flew past her ear, the wind blowing her hair softly back, and imbedded itself in the trunk beside her.

Looking down she saw two Roman figures stood a few feet away from the base of her tree, their red uniforms standing out against the scenery of the forest floor along with the crossbows in their hands.

"Whoa," Frieda breathed as she moved to the side and pressed her back firmly against the tree as a second arrow was shot at her.

Reaching into her quiver, Frieda looked down in shock when she saw that it was empty. Looking to the arrows imbedded in the trunk, Frieda rolled her eyes when she saw that they were too short and thick for her bow.

Old fashioned way it is then, Frieda thought with a smile.

Peering over the edge once more, Frieda rested her bow diagonally across her chest, and waited for the first guard to shoot his reloaded crossbow.

As the arrow splintered the wood near her hand, Frieda decided it was time to move as the pair beneath her take their time to rearm.

Standing up on the branch, her legs beginning to cramp from where she had been crouched for so long, Frieda swung herself down onto the thick branches below her.

Her boots scuffed the branch a few feet down when an arrow flew over the top of her head and hit the tree beside her.

Looking back down she saw that she was close enough to the ground, about a dozen feet, and pushed herself backwards into the air.

Twisting mid-air, Frieda had never been as graceful as Krista as she landed on top of the first soldier, pushing him onto his back with her resting atop him.

Before she could do anything the second guard began to raise his crossbow beside them.

Gripping the armour at the man's shoulders, Frieda turned onto her side and pulled the guard with her until he acted as a barrier between her and the second crossbow.