A Game of the Gods chapter 1.

Author's note: This was originally the first chapter of a book I am writing. I've decided to write a prologue and a chapter describing events leading up to this. There are other changes I intend to make but this part will stay the same. I posted this so I could get feedback from the readers here.

Chapter 1. Escape

A flash of silver ran through the forest. Tall brush and low branches grabbed for her unfettered locks. The sound of snapping twigs, the occasional crash then grunt of someone falling, followed the desperate flight. The greater sounds were her own. The rasping breath, the pounding of her heart drowned most sounds. Her feet thudded lightly, accompanied by the whipping about her legs as she tore through the brush. There was still enough light left to see the game trail she had been running down. It wasn't much of a trail, more a broken line in the ferns that covered the forest floor but it was the only path she could find. The flushed face of the young girl had a few streaks of bloody slashes from unforgiving thorn and thistle. Worse yet was how much of her clothing had been shredded. She wished the forest would close behind her and there were times the forest seemed to be a help. Branches appeared to part before her then bend back, to hide her passing. Yet she could not shake the pursuers.

She didn't have much breath left in her but she wasn't ready to give herself up to the Keeper of Souls. She had been running since the midday sun had crested and now it was near dusk. Her chest ached and her throat was dry but there was no resting. The pursuit was relentless.

“Waoomph.” The air was forced out of her lungs and there was pain from her slender thighs to her middle. She lay dazed on the ground fighting for another breath. “No, not like this,” she thought. She saw the fallen tree she had run into and groaned. The crashing sounds of running feet were coming closer. She dug deep for the strength to move and it was reluctantly given. She clambered over the log and ran on. The pain was everywhere. Every muscle had been strained to tearing apart.

In front of her the greens were brighter, there was a clearing ahead. This is not what she wanted to see. Darkness is what she had been holding out for. The forest and nightfall were her friends. In her tattered brown britches, and a green tunic the midnight forest could hide her. Stealth would carry her away.

Fire might help her, her fire, the fire from within. She held the faint hope that it would come to her. It never did come at her bidding and the few times it did come, it was without askance and she had no control over it. This had been the cause of her flight. She had been angry with King Yanthal. In her fury the coat of arms above his throne bust in to flame. On the night of her escape, a curtain in “The Lucky Lion” caught fire as she passed the inn. She prayed for the fire to come now, to burn her pursuers, but it didn't and it hadn't been the first time she had voiced that unanswered prayer.

There was no place else to go so she rushed into the open. Green fields of shoulder tall grass lay open before her, with only a few sparsely placed trees for cover. Off in the distance and down the slope was a burnt out cottage. That would offer no protection and running through the tall grass would be slow, leaving a newly trodden path behind her. Her pursuers had the advantage of size and numbers. They would quickly catch their prey if she attempted to go that way. The safest course was to run along the edge of the forest, and look for a path back in.

She heard him from a distance, well before she could see him and tried to speed up. He must have guessed her direction because he took an angle to cut her off and the distance shrunk. She crashed to the ground and the breath left her as he leapt out of the forest at her. He had no weapon drawn. His intent was not to kill but to take his pleasure first. Throwing her down he sat astride her. “Now lil' girl, you is ours and since it was me that caught ja, guess who a'gettin' the first ride.” He laughed.

She squirmed and turned trying to slide from under him but he held fast. She paused for a moment hearing the sound of the man's companions still thundering through the forest. She pushed her knees together then thrust upward as hard and fast as she could. Her assailant was caught by surprise and tumbled over her shoulders.

She leapt up onto her feet as fast as possible and ran the forest's edge. There was a gasp of pain behind and she turned her head. The man struggled to his to rise but his legs wouldn't hold him. “Ma fuckin' leg, ya fuckin' bitch. I'm gonna rip your heart out.” He tried again to rise but fell back on his knees staring after her fleeing figure.

She kept running, more of jog now, periodically looking over her should to see if there was any of the other men in close pursuit. In the distance she could see four more men had caught up to their injured comrade but no one stopped to tend to him. One pointed towards her and yelled. She was too far ahead to hear the words but knew the men had not given up. She renewed her efforts, praying the sun would quickly retreat from the sky.

Another glance told her that only one, the tall one, still endured the hours of their chase and he was gaining ground. Ahead there was a small hole in the brush and trees She ran towards it.

It was to no avail, she had found it too late. The man caught her, dragging the battered and bruised body to the ground. She raked her nails across his face and kicked out at him. “Ya bitch.” He slapped her, then sat on her, pinning her arms as she fought but his weight was too much.“Now I'm the first un.” He yelled in triumph. “Ya sure gave us a run. You're gonna be'a payin' for it now.”

The other three men caught up. “Hold 'er arms and legs.” His harsh, raspy voice yelled. The heavy man straddled her, his bearded face looming with a smile that bared jagged and broken teeth.

“No!” She cried and tried to squirm away.

“Lay yourself still girl.” He grabbed the top of her tunic and pulled.

What little was left of the blouse was ripped away. “Look at them lil' things,” he turned his head and smiled at his friends. “She be a youngin'.”

He looked back down at her, grinning. “Is this your first ride lil' girl. I'll make it a good'un for ya.”

Her eyes bulged. She rather be dead, taken by the Keeper, than this. She pushed, squirmed and twisted but it did no good. She yelled curses at him and cried silent prayers beckoning favor from the gods. There was none. She felt a sting across her cheek then all went quiet and she felt nothing. Her fading thoughts were of something sleek and black laying in the grass nearby.

'***'

Thenia began making camp inside the shell of a small cottage. With wide open fields around her, it would be difficult to be caught off guard. She had already unsaddled and unbridled Canthor leaving him to graze on a patch of grass. He wasn't a large horse, much shorter than a war horse but he was fast and he was a friend. His fur and mane were a dark chestnut, allowing him to remain hidden while they scouted, which was her usual service. Her packhorse was small too but able enough, Dunst she had named him. She left him unburdened in the company of Canthor.

Her other partner was most unusual. He was nearby she knew, hopefully hunting. She reached with her mind and smiled. Yes, he was hunting. “Good luck my friend.” A silent roar was returned.

It would be strange, she knew, if any were to find out about her ability to reach the mind of an animal. It was a part of her race her mother had said So it remained a secret.

She dragged a branch from a fallen tree, and began cutting firewood. The air felt still. Canthor snorted, and stamped a hoof, alerting Thenia. She probed with her senses feeling Canthor's agitation and her thoughts were drawn up the sloped hill towards the looming forest beyond. There was danger there. She didn't know how she knew, she just did.

She pushed a warning at Tang then ran to her pack to arm herself. She hastily put on her bracers, the right sheathed three small knives, weighted for throwing. Her sword belt held a man's longsword on the right and a dirk on the left. The gods had seen fit to make stronger the side opposite to most men and she trained to fight that way, though now she could fight with sword in either hand. She wrapped the belt quickly about her waist. She threw a quiver over her shoulder and strung her bow. It had a man's pull but she was no stranger to it. She would not put on leggings unless Canthor was saddled.

She climbed the rubble to the remnants of the roof. It was quiet, too quiet. Canthor snorted his disquiet and one hoof stomped and scraped the ground.

“Shhh.” she admonished, pushing the thought to quiet her friend.

Her senses probed about her. All was important, sight, sound, smell, but there was nothing. Just a feeling that danger was near but nothing told of what it was. Suddenly, the fury of flapping wings rushed though the air and a flock of birds burst forth above the woods. A small figure bolted from the forest. It was a girl, young as far as Thenia could tell. She looked to her right, then down the hill but chose not to run to the cottage. She ran to her left and followed the forest wall. There was a desperation about the girl. That much Thenia knew.

“Tang, follow along but stay in the grass. Take no risk.” A vision of the running girl was thrust into his mind.

A frustrated growl followed by the image of a deer stooping to drink was pushed back at her.

“It will have to wait.”

Thenia started to run after the girl at an angle to cut her off, but several more bodies plunged out from the trees, and chased after her. Four men were in pursuit. Woodsmen, by the look of them but no one with a bow. The girl was lost to sight.

She ran back to Canthor, there was no time to saddle him. She grabbed a tuft of his chestnut mane, leapt up swinging a leg over his back.

"Dunst stay here." That would be easy for the little horse. He was loyal to her. and would follow reluctantly if asked, but he didn't have the courage of Canthor.

With a thought from Thenia, Canthor moved forward. Her approach was not direct. She hoped to find her way behind the men while remaining unnoticed and to see if more were to come. She lay forward on his back exposing as little of them as she could over the tall grass.

She came free of the grasses ten paces from the forest foliage where the girl and the men had exited and she notched an arrow to her bow.

“Trot Canthor.” Her legs tightened as he increased his pace. It would do no good to canter into a pack of armed men, though these did not seem to be much of a threat to her.

She passed the place where the men had stumbled out onto the plain and followed their trail. She almost missed the depression that hid a man, eyes closed and moaning as he rubbed his ankle. He opened them, startled at her approach. His expression changed into fear as he saw the armored woman astride a horse with a notched bow but he was too stunned to reached for his axe and far too late.

All motion slowed. The bow was raised, the string pulled and when it was released a twang reverberated through the air. He saw the point of the arrow drawing inexorably towards his eye, the fletching blurred as it spun the arrow. A flash of white and his eye saw no more. In another moment the other eye saw nothing as well.

She didn't wait for the Keeper to come for him, she kept on steadily after the men. A hundred strides away she stopped, dropping to the ground. "Stay here," she bade Canthor.

Thenia moved into the shadow of the trees and silently crept towards the men. She sought out Tang. He was crouching in the grass watching the men through the blades. She could see the largest astride the girl, another holding the kicking feet, a third held the struggling shoulders and the forth looking on with greedy anticipation.

The oddest thing occurred to her as she watch the moment. The slight girl was not crying or begging, she was fighting. This one deserved life.

Thenia stood up and notched an arrow putting another in the ground in front of her. She was about forty paces from the men and she had time for two easy shots if they attacked.

“Well, well I see four grown men a play with a child.”

All four of the startled men turned and looked. Before them stood a man sized woman, red wine hair with emerald eyes, in studded hard leather armor. The large man struggled to get off the girl and on to his own feet. “Who the fuck are you?”

She ignored the question. “Is the girl of age to play such games?”

“This is non of your business unless you wants to play next. We're the king's men on kings business.”

“So the king ordered you to rape this little girl?”

“She's a witch and the king wants 'er dead. What we does before don't matter.”

“You must have had a very hard time catching the little girl. I can tell from all the spells you are suffering from." She knew the sarcasm was beyond them but she was enjoying it all the same. "Are you sure she left you with anything between your legs to play with?” She almost laughed at the fear she saw and did so when two had reached between their legs to see if they were still men.

“What spells?”

“You have suffered no spells? You are not bent in agony? Your clothes have not been burned from you body? She must not be a very good witch if she let you capture her without putting spells on you." The sarcasm was wasted on these fools and she was tiring of the game, though her purpose was information not banter. "Why is the king so afraid of her? What crime is laid at her feet?”

She felt Tang's impatience. "In a moment she thought." Though there was no sound she heard is low growl.

“We heard the king's seer said she were gonna kill 'im.”

That was enough information. It was time to end the charade. “Well, I'm sorry my friends, I don't think I want you to kill her. If you wish I'll let you pass by and you can go back to the path you came on. You can bury your friend too.”

“You kilt Burgin? He was hurt. Why'ja kill 'im?” They all looked at her with revenge in their eyes. The tall nodded to his comrades.

She knew this was coming, she was waiting for it. Before any of them could move the first was falling back with an arrow thought his eye. A second arrow was notched and was on it's way before any one had taken three steps. It had found it's mark in the heart of the nearest man. She drop the bow and pulled both sword and dirk. The third man was now about twenty paces away racing towards her with his axe raised, bellowing a raging war cry. The descending axe caught on the sword's cross guard and she pushed upward with her dirk. The point pierced his neck under the chin and she thrust it through the top of his head. The war cry was abruptly silenced as blood started spurting from his throat. He coughed, and blood splattered on her face and armor. There was a copper taste on her tongue.

“Bastard,” she spat, pulling her knife out of the man and pushing him backwards. There was a loud thump as the body hit the ground, but she paid no attention to it.

Her attention had turned to the last man. He hadn't moved. He stood paralyzed by the speed, the ferocity, the absolute finality of the last few moments. In less time than the fall of a few grains of sand, his three friends had died.
She spat again “And now for you.”

His eyes bulged as he stared at death approaching. The wind had picked up, blowing her hair wildly about. Red flames seemed to dance. The setting sun reflected off her eyes casting a green glow. It was as if the Keeper had sent a demon to collect him. He fell to his knees crying. “No, no, please no! We was only doin' what the king ordered!”

“Be still!” she yelled and he closed his mouth.

“Tang,” she felt for her friend's presence.

Tang crept out of the grass growling, inching towards the bawling man. There was a cry of terror when the man saw the apparition seeming to flow out of nothing. It was the largest cat he had ever seen. Fully the size of a man. Totally black without anything to mark him. The only other feature he saw were the dagger length white teeth shining through the snarl. “You're not gonna let 'im eat me are ya?” he begged. Everything the man might have been holding in, flowed out of him. The stench was immediate.

“Lie down, he's going to guard you, and stop your damn sniveling.” When he was down she planted the dagger in the ground on one side of his head and the sword on the other, the honed edges of each within a thumb's length of his neck. “Don't move,” she ordered.

Thenia walked away going to the girl. She put two fingers to the neck, waited for a moment, and was soon rewarded with a weak but definite pulse. The lithe body was still unconscious so she took time to examine it. The clothes were ripped and torn beyond repair and it wasn't clear how they remained in tact. There were streaks of blood from razor thin scratches everywhere, probably from the brambles and thorns that had been run through in the dense forest, but there were no serious bleeding wounds. She gently probed under the girl's head and then the neck. Nothing was broken so far. She felt the pack strapped firmly on the girl's back but had no time for it. Down the spine she gently sought for wounds or broken bones but there was nothing out of place. The limbs and torso were checked and there were no breaks to be found there either. This would have to do until she got back to camp and removed the girl's clothes.

She looked over at the quivering mass laying nearby. She moved to its head crouching over it upside down. “Well my friend, I see Tang has tended to you well. Tell me your name."

“Tanner m'lady.” His voice quivered and by the look more of his insides wanted release.

“M'lady is it now and such a courtly tone."

“Yessum m'...,” His voice dropped off.

She took his hair in her hand and twisted, forcing his head to turn until it almost touched the still standing blade. “Do you see that little girl, the one you wanted to put your little worm into? We saw her courage as you chased her. She fought you kicking, clawing and scratching. Not once did she cry or beg, not once.” She twisted his head back around, clearly displaying her disgust. “You, on the other hand are nothing without three or four friends to help you. You are a coward. You would take a child to prove your manhood. My friend Tang wants to kill you. He doesn't like kittens to be treated like that.”

“Tang, do you want him?” She pushed the thought as well as speaking the words.

There was a snarl and a growl. From below her there was a whimpering cry as the body shivered in terror.

She laughed a humorless laugh. “No need to fear Tanner. Human piss and shit are so distasteful to his kind, it ruins the flavor of the meat.”

The sigh he let out was noticeable.

“I still have one problem left Tanner. I have a rule that I never break. I never leave an enemy behind me.” His eyes bulged and fear froze the body. She levered the sword down, drawing it across his neck. Deeper and deeper it cut until the blood bubbled and gurgled at the gaping hole.