The Warrior Queen (An Erotic Novel)

Chapter 3 - The Foreign Ones

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CHAPTER 3

I followed the stream around the hills as I neared, being careful to make as little noise as I could. The trees around me disguised my movements, blocking the still small amount of light the sun shed, and I hoped to take anyone lurking nearby by surprise.

I took note of everything around me. I knew this land like the back of my hand so anything out of place would stand out to me.

As the stream deepened towards the side of the hills, I noticed an unusual slope in the muddy bank. I dismounted the horse and took a closer look. There were footprints sunk into the mud. Someone had been here recently. The prints didn't look like those left by fellow Celts though. They had strange circular indents throughout the prints, as though the person making them was walking on metal beads.

I followed where the prints had come from, leaving my horse behind so I could be as silent as a warm breeze.

I peeked over ridge and my eyes widened as I saw half a dozen men had set up camp right before my eyes.

Their fire crackled as they sat around, warming themselves up and stirring a pot of something above the flame.

I ducked back down, accidentally losing my footing and tumbling down the small bank and into the cold stream.

They had heard me. They began talking loudly and I heard a sudden rush of movement.

Rushing back to my stallion, I climbed onto him, forcing the beast to climb the bank as quickly as he could. Six Roman soldiers surrounded me with spears, but neither I nor my horse would back down now and let them think the Celts could be warded off so simply. We ran to the left of them, bypassing their metal-tipped spears and I swung my mighty battleaxe around in a circle, slashing whoever stood in its destructive path.

The soldier's ribcage was slashed open and blood poured between his crumbled bones.

I charged again, sitting mightily on my stallion, a good three feet above those below me. I contorted my body, using every muscle to hack down into the next victim's head. A blood-curdling crack sounded in the air as his skull split in two, and in the same moment, I used the sharp end of my battleaxe and pierced into another's chest.

I tugged at my weapon to try and free it when a powerul blunt force impacted my stomach, making me lose balance and fall to the floor, gasping for the air that had been struck out of me.

Three men circled me now, all wielding weapons. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the dizziness in my head, and picked up a fallen spear before one of tried to kick it out of my reach.

I screamed as I lurched forward, using the length of the weapon to my advantage as I sunk the sharp spear into an eye socket and then, using all my strength, I heaved the object back and without looking, it ploughed into the stomach of the soldier standing behind me.

I backed away and stared down the one remaining soldier. He stared back at me with a look of what I like to believe was horror, and marvel.

From what I knew of the Romans, they didn't have women fighting in battle which was unheard of in Britannia. Women were just as fierce, if not more so than men. I had seen women smaller than myself striking fear into men twice their size in both height and mass in battle.

I could see in his dark brown eyes that he was shocked at how a single young woman could take out five trained Roman soldiers. And I could also see that he feared he would be the sixth.

"Drop your weapon," I demanded.

The soldier looked at me, not understanding. Of course he wouldn't have the courtesy to learn the language of another land before trying to take it.