Warriors and Thieves: Chapter Five

• Posted by BlueDremora January 11, 2016 - 957 views

  Warriors and Thieves

  Chapter Five

  The Blood of a Soldier

  Sometimes there’s no warning... nothing at all. One moment Farideh and Gromph were enjoying a well deserved break in the late-summer-evening-sun after a long day of walking; the next they were surrounded by soldiers clad in rough leathers and ringmail, their steel swords pointed at the pair, ready to strike.

  “Well well, what do we have here?” A deep voice asked, its owner stepping into view from behind a large rock. He was tall, his hey colored hair braided behind his neck to prevent it from falling into his eyes, clad in a magnificent cloak of hardened leather and rare furs.

  “An orc and a khajiit, how very unlikely” the man said as he neared Farideh and Gromph with long determined steps.

  Who the hell is this, thought Farideh, those soldiers are definitely stormcloaks, she could tell from the white-bear markings on their cloaks and shields, but who the hell is this… she didn’t know -couldn’t know- she had spent too little time in Skyrim (and cared too little for politics) to recognize the leader of the rebellion.

  “Ulfric”, said one of the soldiers, “What shall we do with them”.

  Ulfric, where have I heard that before?

  Ulfric ignored the question. He was staring at the two, scrutinising them with cold grey eyes.

  “I suppose we’ll have to bring them along”, he finally said after a long moment of consideration, “They might talk otherwize…”

  One of the soldier stepped forth with two pieces of rope in his left hand, it didn’t take Farideh much imagination to figure out what the band of soldiers were going to do. Damn it! this one hates being bound. She slowly got to her feet.

  “Excuse a khajiit for asking, but who exactly do you think you are?” She asked the tall man clad in furs.

  “Sit down”, urged Gromph, trying to pull her arm so she could not move further forwards. The soldier with the rope in his hand paused. Ulfric turned to her, a deep frown on his face.

  “Why, I am the high king of Skyrim. Who are you?”

  Farideh knew he spoke the truth, or at least most of it, she could feel a certain air of authority surrounding the man. A king maybe, but nowadays anyone will crown themselves given the opportunity.

  “Who is this one?”, She asked, “Ohh this one is Confused”, she bowed mockingly, “confused as to why a nord and his soldiers wish to take captive two innocent travelers for no apparent reason”.

  Ulfric snorted, “Innocent? I doubt that any khajiit alive is truly innocent”.

  Farideh hissed at him and with a lighting fast motion of her right arm she drew out her ebony knife, “And a khajiit doubts than any nord alive will stay that way for very long if they run their mou-”, a big coars hand covered her mouth from behind, she almost bit,  but stopped herself when she saw that it was moss-grey.

  “I apologize for my companion's behaviour, Ulfric”, Said Gromph in a friendly manor. He slowly removed his hand from Farideh’s mouth. She glared at Ulfric challengingly, sheathing her knife .    

  “I am afraid she knows next to nothing of this country, and she has spent little more than a week within Skyrim’s borders”.

  Ulfric, however, seemed not to care at all, “I don’t give a damn weather she’s been here for a day or a year, she should know some respect”, with a motion of his left hand he signaled the soldier with the ropes.

  “We won’t hurt you”, he said, “But we are on a secret errand and no one can learn of where we are…”

  Grumph nodded slowly, “We won’t tell anyone, let us go and you will suffer no consequence”, he said.

  The soldier with the rope came closer, it was obvious that he wanted to bind Farideh first, stupid ignorant dumb nord fool, she thought, her temper rising, Gromph might be the warrior of us two but a khajiit HATES being bound. The soldier with the rope came closer:

  Step.

  “And how do I know I can trust you?” Ulfric asked Gromph.

  Step.

  Gromph grunted disdainfully, “I suppose you can’t, but we are headed South, there aren't many people that way”.

  Step.

  “I suppose not” said Ulfric “But I don't believe in chance, now lay down your weapons and come along peacefully”.

  One more step, com on…

  Step.

  Farideh lunged at the unexpecting man, knife in hand. The ebony blade, with 62 kilos of feline rage behind it, had little problem penetrating the soldiers hide armor and piercing his heart. All the man managed to do before falling to the ground dead as a stone, was let out a high-pitched squeak. A khajiit hates being bound. A khajiit spent too many years that way...  

  No one moved.

  “Now why the hell did you do that Farideh?”, Asked Gromph with an angry tone, “We could have figured this out in a peaceful way; by the Gods, and people say that orcs are savage”.

  “This one spent seven years in bindings”, Farideh spat, “And before a khajiit cut the throat of her slave-master, she swore never to spent another heartbeat that way… not ever”.

  Ulfric drew his sword, and as if given a signal his soldiers did the same.

  “The cat killed Gonnar”, shouted one of the men.

  “Then kill her, shouted another”, and so the first man tried.

  He jumped forwards, sword lifted to strike, but before he had time to take more than a step Gromph’s massive axe came from nowhere with such tremendous force that it cut the soldier in half at his hips.

  Farideh felt herself shiver, Gods that was fast, she thought, a khajiit knew that the orc was dangerous alright, but this one never guessed he would be that good.   

  Ulfric’s men apparently felt the same way after the gruesome display of speed and force. Because once again no one moved.

         

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