Mist on the Moon

Not in a good place

The two sides advanced toward each other. Evie realized immediately they were badly outnumbered, seven to three and a girl, her. Swords were drawn, shields lifted and she saw the menace in the eyes of the enemy. She glanced at the three knights, realizing that there would be no surrender. Did they have such faith in their prowess that they could beat twice their number?

As they drew closer, now less than fifty feet away, Evie notched her arrow. She desperately wanted to make it count. She watched for an opening, only needing a slightly lowered shield, and when she saw it immediately let her arrow fly. It flew straight and true, piercing the throat of the lead attacker. She heard him gasp, then struggle momentarily to stay on his horse, and then fall to the ground.

The enemy charged, and she quickly threw down her bow and raised her sword. She and her three knights stood together on their horses but were quickly surrounded by enemy soldiers whose superior numbers allowed them to make quick thrusts of their swords while keeping their distance from the slashing swords of the knights. A knight went down, felled by a blow to the neck, and Evie found herself locked in a struggle with one of the enemy whose blade had tried to slice her in two. She wrestled with him, holding onto the butt of his sword for dear life and while doing so saw one of the enemy fall with a thud to the ground. 

A knight came to her assistance, smiting the one she struggled with with a slicing blow across his shoulder and upper arm. Her attacker cried out, releasing his grip, and the knight quickly ran him through. But another of her protector knights went down, and now it was only she and Stefan against four of them. They had no chance. Suddenly, to Evie's surprise, Stefan surrendered, throwing his sword to the ground and raising both of his hands in the air. The enemy backed off, watching her, the only one left of their party still wielding a sword. Evie looked at Stephan, and like him threw down her sword. She hoped she would not regret that they didn't fight on until their death.

* * *

At the front of the battle lines, Trent suddenly realized that at least part of the enemy army had managed to evade his troops and were seeking to cut off their route back. With a shock it came to him that the route Evie and three of his knights had taken might have put them in path of the Magyars. Already, his advance knights were engaging the enemy at the front and Trent desperately looked around to see who he could take with him to go toward Evie and his knights. Of course, it was going to be his stalwart friends—Daniel, Justin, Alaric and three others. Trent knew that Justin was their best tracker and with him in the lead they set off, leaving the battlefield behind.

As they continued on, Trent was glad to see that the main force of the enemy army appeared to be engaged in battle at the front. He hoped he had been wrong about the danger facing Evie and the men with her. He and his group of knights went silently through the forest for miles, careful not to make any noise so as to not give away their position. Then, Justin raised his hand, bringing the knights to a halt. They had rounded a hill that looked out on a meadow. Now, Trent could see why Justin had alerted them.

Carefully, silently, they moved forward, their eyes surveying the ground. There had been a fight at this very spot. Hooves dug into the grass by rearing horses gave it away. Then they saw blood on the ground, a lot of blood but no bodies. Trent considered. Judging from all the bloodshed, people must have been killed. Why had the victor been so careful to remove the dead from the battleground?

They searched the area hurriedly, and not finding anything else continued following the trail of the enemy combatants, hoping to overtake them. But now, darkness was falling and Trent knew that if they didn't overtake them soon it would be too late. As they advanced, they heard the sound of the enemy ahead. Realizing there was nothing so few knights could do against so many, Trent called off the hunt and turning they took a route that would take them back to rejoin their main force.

* * *

Evie was afraid. Her hands were tied tightly together at her wrists, and two of the knights that had accompanied her were dead she thought, for they were tied head down across the backs of horses. Only Stefan of Trent's knights rode with her, his hands were also securely tied. Their battle with the Magyars had not gone well, although Evie prided herself a little that the only arrow she was able to unleash had pierced the neck of one of the enemy, killing him. 

The rest had all happened too fast, for drawing their broad swords the Magyars had quickly dispatched two knights, leaving only Evie and Stefan to either give up or die. Not knowing what fate awaited them, Evie tearfully thought that maybe they should have chosen to fight to the death.

By now, darkness had fallen as they were brought into the heart of the enemy camp. The fighting was over for that day, for without light how could anyone know if they were striking friend or foe? Her captors led her toward the largest tent, assisting them to dismount while they were still securely bound at their wrists. They then pushed them through the entrance. 

Inside, oil lamps glowed and she saw a man of middle age seated on a stately chair smoking a hookah while three armed guards on each side of him looked with steely eyes at her and Stefan. An attendant stood at the man's side. Evie noted the seated man wore an imposing robe with a turban on his head and saw some gray mixed in with the black of his trimmed beard.

"What have we here?" said the man in clear enough German. "They are so desperate that they are enlisting women?" He looked dismissively at Evie.

"No!" answered Stefan. "She is a sharpshooter with bow and arrow."

"So a commoner she is then. I will let my men have their way with her. If she survives, she will be in no condition to shoot arrows." He looked at Evie and then at Stefan to see the effect of his words.

"No, sire," spoke Stefan, a look of anxious concern on his face. "No, she is not a commoner."

"Ah," said the commander, looking now directly at Evie. "Not a commoner then. And yet a woman outfitted in battle garb. Strange indeed. Tell me more about yourself, woman, or are you perhaps a lady? Maybe even a lady of the court?"

Evie is in serious danger. Can Trent or her fiance, Richard, help her? We shall see. And what about Cara, back at the castle?