Havoc's Daughters

Chapter 1 - Day 1: Diannah (part V) man down

      It was an odd angle. She couldn’t get much force behind the blow, and the blade slid across leather armor. 

      Should have taken the time when J’Lian was learning these things! 

      The warrior reacted, one hand grabbing the back of her shirt and the shoulder under her dropping. He stepped to the left, instinctively putting distance between himself and her attack.

      Setting her teeth, Diannah turned the point toward his armpit. The leather jerkin ended. She thrust inward, against the wall of his chest. Muscle and bone fought the point, and then gave way.

      With a bellow, the man staggered and fell. 

      Though jarred, Diannah rolled through ash and stubble, the blade tearing free as her weight yanked her away. Falling was the first game Da taught them when the twins came to live with the family, and she quickly gained her feet. 

      The prince was just lifting himself off the ground, his gore-spattered left hand pressed against the wound. His eyes were the deep brown of a horse’s. 

      He must have seen what she intended when she drew back her foot, because the dark head ducked away. Even so, the heel of her boot caught Prince Blade of Cumbera behind the ear. 

      She paused, standing over her fallen foe. He was bleeding, and breathing as well. That meant he was alive. 

      I should finish him.

      But he looked so vulnerable, lying there in the ashes and dirt. 

      I can’t kill an innocent.

      He’s not an innocent.

      All men are innocent when they sleep. Besides, Da made J’Lian swear not to do lasting harm to any member of the Cumberan royal family.

      He didn’t make me so swear! 

      But the argument was lost. And how long was the prince likely to last when she’d just stuck a knife in his lung? Besides, unconscious, he wasn’t going to get in the way.

      With the prince as good as dead, Diannah seized the reins of his horse and led the beast back to where her father lay trapped. The stud pranced, as if contemplating revolt. But it obeyed her. Horses always obeyed her.

      She reached her father and dropped to the cracked dirt. Thank the Light, he hadn’t wakened but he yet drew breath. 

      Diannah freed Avalanche’s reins, then tightened his bridle. It wasn’t until she had to stop, just to breathe, that she realized her eyes and nose were streaming and her chest spasmed to draw air through a constricted throat. Sobbing that she was relieved the poor gelding’s corpse was still pliable, she positioned the hind legs under its belly and drew the forelegs out in front.

      The eyes of Blade’s big war-horse were white, possibly from the acrid scent of Avalanche’s blood. No steed Diannah trained for battle would have troubled over blood scent. She kept hers tethered nearby during the autumn butchering. 

      But then, she couldn’t really blame the poor thing. The stench made her want to wipe her nose, but when she brushed some hair back from her face with one hand she only managed to add a sticky smear of blood and ash to the mess already present.

      She barked a command to still the horse’s prancing. The big stud rolled his eyes at her in surprise, but again it obeyed. Diannah could see it was a fractious animal, and use to having its way.