The Seigneur of Bourgillet glared at Anna from across the bridge. I wondered what Anna had done to anger this man. The Comte turned around and looked at Anna. He tried to say something, but then thought better of it, and faced forward again. Shouting across the barricaded bridge, the Comte addressed the young Seigneur of Bourgillet.

"Pray, do tell, good Seigneur. What has our charming young lady done?"

The young man's face distorted in an inner rage. His horse started to sway its head.

"That dirty whore of a defective creature has killed my father!"

We exchanged glances and... shrugged.

"Which one?"

The Comte asked mockingly, and his men burst out laughing. True, Anna had slain many men on that day.

"With an arrow!"

I choked. Anna went 'Pfft!' It was the very unlucky dude who got Anna's wayward arrow through his skull. Baron Hugo's cousin, if I remembered correctly. Ah, that meant the young Seigneur, the son of the deceased, must be related to Hugo as well.

"The wench!" he was still going on, "had sneaked up on my late father and she-"

'Twang!'

An arrow traveled over our heads and hit the man's raised visor on the helmet, narrowly missing the exposed face by only a couple of inches. The young Seigneur's head snapped backward, and he nearly fell off his horse.

"For fuck's sake, Anna!"

I yelled. Really, I take my eyes off her for a second, and she- Oh. I realized it wasn't her, for she did not have the bow in her hands. She was in the process of punching the air and was about to shout something. Apparently, the Comte's men were also aware of Anna's 'Shoot first, don't ask' policy. The men immediately jumped on her, dragging her down from her mare. Anna thrashed her limbs and screamed in protest.

"It wasn't her! It wasn't her!" I shouted, desperately pointing at her bow nicely tucked in the quiver mounted by the saddle. The men looked at the innocent bow, then at Anna's fuming red face, and quickly released her. They propped her upright and dusted her off and backed away, apologizing profusely.

'Twang!'

Another arrow screamed over our heads, but the young Seigneur was on alert. He quickly ducked low, and his head got out of the fast traveling arrow's path. Some poor soul who was unlucky enough to be standing in the later part of the trajectory yelped and died.

"For the love of God, could we please observe the Codes of Hommes for at least once!"

The Comte lamented. We all turned our heads towards our back. The culprit was one of the Barkskins on elks. Marion was next to him, and noticing our baffled expressions, she just shrugged. The Barkskin warrior grimaced. He nudged his elk forward and came to the front row.

"Humen, you talk too much," he said as he came to a stop. I saw it. I saw the dude bumping the fist offered by Anna. Anna looked up at him and corked her head as if asking 'May I?' and the Barkskin warrior nodded. Anna reached for her bow on Lilly, and the Comte's men jumped on the girl once again and wrapped their arms around her so she could not move her limbs. After some struggle, Anna gave up, and they let go but kept eyes on her.

"A Treedweller!"

Seigneur Bourgillet shouted, with a hand massaging the back of his neck. His eyes took notice of the other two Barkskins and Marion in the back of our ranks.

"A mute. And Treedwellers. What is this, a traveling circus?"

"Yes," the Treedweller shouted back, "why you not come over? We entertain you! Good time, I promise!"

"No! You come here, and I will turn you into chopped up logs!"

"Carve me into a broomstick while you at it, humen! I go explore the canal that gave birth to ugly you!"

The young man took a moment to process this insult. His face reddened with rage.

"How dare you!"

The Barkskin reached down from his elk, grabbed Anna by the back of her collar, and presented her to the front.

"You want her? You brave? Come here, have this maiden!"

Anna punched the man's hard thigh, but the Treedweller did not even flinch.

"You saw? Her little fist hurts me not. Yet your weakling papa so lame he died to this!"

"Why you filthy-" the young Seigneur was frothing in his mouth. "She killed my father with a sneaky arrow-"

'Twang!'

An arrow pierced through the air and narrowly missed the raging Seigneur's head. His eyes went wide. Baffled, we turned our heads around to see another Treedweller with a bow in his hand. Marion was doubled down, hugging her elk's neck, laughing her ass off. The Barkskin warrior shrugged.

"I thought this be hilarious," he said.

We faced forward again as the Seigneur was screaming mad.

"I will kill you all, and then I will kill that whore!"

"Young lad," the Comte shouted back, "I would love to see you try!"

The Vidame's white-clad knight had had enough of this nonsense. He waved his sword, and the archers placed on both sides of the footmen guarding their side of the bridge sent a volley of arrows. But alas, in their eagerness, or maybe thanks to their inexperience, they shot straight. Unlike our seven-feet tall Barkskins mounted on enormous Elks, the Vidame's archers did not have a clear sightline. The spikes and the crates barricading the bridge got in the way, blocking most of the arrows flying our way. The archers quickly adjusted their aim, and with the second volley, they tried to lob the arrows above the barricades, but by this time, we were already well dispersed and quickly retreating anyway. We hurried away from the bridge, leaving the young Seigneur screaming and raging on the other side of the river behind us.

###

We regrouped behind a small yet wide mound of dirt a couple hundred yards from the bridge, out of the sight of the enemy. We did a quick headcount and were relieved to learn the arrows had done negligible damage. The Comte, after a deep sigh, begged.

"Could we please not do that again?"

"I will have a word with them," Marion said in a way that wasn't very assuring.

"And you, too, young lady," the Comte turned to face Anna, who played innocent as if saying 'What? Me?'

With another deep sigh, the Comte shook his head. He called for his men, and the knights gathered around him to discuss our next move.

"It is blatantly obvious Vidame de Soilet is inexperienced in warfare," the Comte commented, and his men nodded in agreement. Apparently, the so-called God's warriors had placed their units all wrong. For example, for this particular situation, the archers should not be standing immediately adjacent to the melee unit in the center. Comte d'Armas, according to him, would have placed them farther to the sides so the archers could have full coverage of the bridge and have a better sight-line unhindered by the barricades.

"As long as we do not cross the bridge, they cannot harm us, for those barricades work both ways. We cannot cross, but they cannot cross either."

"But milord, that serves their purpose, not ours," said Victor, reminding his Comte of our objective, which was to cross the bridge and get into Bourg.

"That is, unfortunately, true."

The old nobleman walked up the mound, squinted his eyes, and studied the enemy in the distance. He scanned the horizon, thinking. After a while, he came back.

"Well, it is certain we are not going to make it across today."

He told us to set up, and the men started to pitch tents and make fires. Wooden spikes and planks were unloaded from carts and were put up to form a fence around the camp.

I, too, pitched our small tent, then went on to feed Lilly and Slinky with some carrots and hays fetched from carts. I made a small fire and put a water-filled pot over it. As soon as I made the fire, Anna got out of her armor and tossed the metal pieces into the tent. She rummaged through my travel sack to fish out blankets and then sat herself down by the fire draped in multiple layers of wool.

'I am hungry. And cold,' she gestured.

"Hang in there, milady."

I had noticed it was getting colder and colder every day. The winter was near, and Anna didn't do well in cold weather. Maybe it was because she weren't fed very well when she was young. Or perhaps because she did not have much fat insulating the heat loss. To Anna, the winter generally meant catching cold and sneezing and coughing and shivering and being pampered and having hot milk and honey bread brought to her in bed. I wondered if I could cope with all that by myself without the maids helping me.

'I should ask Marion if she has something for the cold,' I made a mental note. I needed to talk to the witch anyway, for the maids in the manor, before we left, had warned me that Anna was of the age and her first day would eventually come, and I should be mentally prepared for it. At the bottom of my travel sack was a small silk pouch specifically prepared for those monthly occasions, but the issue was that I had no idea how to properly-

I blushed and shook my head. 'I really should ask Marion to take care of it when it happens,' I thought. After all, she had indeed stuck her finger up Anna's bottom. Surely, she wouldn't mind dealing with the other orifice, too, when the day eventually came. I looked at Anna. She was watching the logs burn and had a bored expression on her face. I looked around to locate Marion, which did not take long. Marion was close by, apparently in some discussion with the Comte.

"Mademoiselle, do your people float?" the Comte was asking.

"We aren't rafts made of logs if that is what you are asking."

"Hmm... How unfortunate. Here I thought I had a brilliant idea how to make it across the river."

"We can swim, though."

Victor joined the two after coming down from the mound to survey the enemy.

"The barricade is arranged in such a way that we would emerge on the other side in a single file," he said, shaking his head, "we would not be able to build the momentum necessary to break through."

The Comte nodded and fell into deep thought, his eyes darting. He noticed me and gestured me over. I stood up, patted on Anna's shoulder as to let her know, and we walked over to the noblemen and the witch.

"My good lad, does the young lady swim?"

'I swim very well, but the water is too cold-' Anna was saying.

"Yes, milord, Lady Anna does indeed swim very well."

"Excellent!"

'But the water is-' Anna was trying to say, but I brushed her off. This made her mad, and she spent the rest of the evening not talking to me.

It was when I was laying her bedroll in our small tent that she finally spoke to me again. She tapped on my shoulder and glared at me.

'Lately, you have been very selective in delivering what I say.'

"Oh, come on." I sighed. Having done with Anna's bedroll, I crawled out of the tent to set up my bedding by the entrance. Anna followed me out, still mad.

'And you have been quite rude to me.'

"Look, there's a whole army wanting you dead, and this is what's getting on your nerve?"

Few heads turned our way. I switched to our sign-language.

'I'm sorry if you feel that way. I'm sorry I don't fully relay what you say. But you have to understand. We are dealing with serious stuff, but you say irrelevant things and act like a child-'

'Are you saying I embarrass you?'

"I...,"

I stopped. I saw Anna's face and felt a little pain in my chest. I fiddled with my fingers and avoided her eyes. I got low and went back to making my bed, but felt her gaze on my back. I was soon done with laying my bedroll, but I kept crouched there, staring at Anna's flickering shadow cast by the small campfire. There was a lot of noise. The men of Armas were busy, sawing and hammering on wooden planks, making something.

After a while, Anna slapped the back of my head and stormed into her tent. I sighed and crawled and poked my head inside. She had pulled up the blankets over her head, which made her feet facing the entrance stick out in the open.

"It's not like that..." I trailed off, looking for the right words. There was a slight movement under the multiple layers of the blankets, but she did not respond. I crawled further in and pulled the sheets down a bit to cover her bare feet.

"I just want to present you as a cool, elegant-"

I couldn't finish, for Anna kicked me in my left eye.

###

I must have passed out. I was awoken by somebody kicking me in the butt with a giggle. I gasped and opened my eyes to find myself lying on my stomach, half inside the tent with my legs sticking outside. I felt stiff and numb from having slept like that, and my left eye was sore as heck.

To my surprise, Anna was already up. She sat cross-legged in the middle of the tent and was watching me with icy eyes. When our eyes met, she gasped, and a look of regret passed on her face briefly. She quickly averted her eyes and pretended to ignore me. I got up and proceeded with our usual morning ritual, all the while Anna remained silent, only huffing and scoffing occasionally.

Having washed her face and combed and tied her hair to a short ponytail, I crawled out of the tent and dumped the content of the pisspot behind some bush so people wouldn't step on, or see the maiden's morning wastes. I then got back in front of our small tent and rolled up my bedroll, shivering a bit from the chilly morning air.

The Comte's men were already busy hammering and sawing and such. Carts were being disassembled, and crudely axed timbers were brought in from the nearby woods. I realized they were building something large, some sort of a construct that had the appearance of a tilted canopy made of wooden planks. It stood tall, supported by four vertical beams, each having a wheel at the bottom. I watched as the forward-tilted surface was fortified with wooden planks. Men were also winding ropes around each supporting beams.

Anna came out of the tent and watched the scene with me, still not talking to me. The Vicomte came by and shouted to his men that he wanted a trial run, and four strong soldiers ran to the wheeled beams, and each slung a rope over the shoulder.

"One, two, pull!" Victor shouted.

"Allez!" the men shouted and advanced, pulling the ropes over their shoulders. The wheels rolled, and the construct moved forward reluctantly.

"Hmm," Victor rubbed his chin, not satisfied. He noticed our curious eyes and gave us a quick smile.

"It is to shield us from the arrows."

"I see. But milord, the wheels are all moving at different rates. As is now, it won't go straight." I pointed out.

"Good eyes, young lad, you are correct," Victor pointed at the supporting beams and continued, "I would prefer to have the legs joined by lateral bars, which would give us a uniform turning rate for all wheels, but then the horizontal parts of the frame would be blocked by the obstacles."

I studied the wooden construct again. It made sense. The idea was to have the thing advance over the bridge, each legs wading through the narrow gaps created by the barricades. The men pulling the ropes would just have to get better at coordinating their moves. That led me to the obvious conclusion; the Comte was planning to assault across the bridge, head-on. The tilted canopy would shield the soldiers from the arrows while-

"The plan is to push the barricades to the sides, off the bridge," Victor explained, "then we have the space to form rows and columns, which should give us a better chance."

I wondered about that. Would the men on the other side of the river let us do all that? Anna nudged in my ribs and made gestures.

"Her Ladyship worries we would be too exhausted from pushing things off the bridge," I dutifully translated.

"That, unfortunately, is something we must overcome."

"May I suggest a way to lessen the work?" I ventured, and the Vicomte motioned for me to go on. I looked around and picked up a long thin stick, with which I began to draw on the dirt. I drew a schematic of a pulley system of the top-down view. Thee wheels were laid horizontally and arranged in an L-shape. I then drew a long rope running through the system. The line went from the right side of the top wheel, then diagonally traveled across the vertical axis to the left of the wheel at the perpendicular corner of the L. It then wound around, and from the bottom of the wheel, it traveled across the horizontal axis to connect with the upper part of the wheel at the end of the L's bottom bar. Finally, the rope wound around and reversed its direction, running parallel to the L-shaped arrangement's base, towards the corner wheel. I drew a small hook at the loose end of the rope.

"Interesting," Victor commented, studying the schematic. Anna, too, seemed intrigued, but she tried to hide it from showing. It was a bit awkward between her and me, what with the last night's bickering. I shook my head to focus.

"Milord, a construct such as this would transform a longitudinal pull into a lateral movement, towards this-."

"Yes, I can see that," he squatted down and ran his hands over the vertical bar of the L-shape.

"Correct me if I am mistaken, but this axis is supposed to be placed on the bridge?"

"You are indeed correct, milord."

Victor then ran his hands over the bottom line of the pulley arrangement.

"This arm is supposed to jut out of the bridge to the side, I presume?"

The Vicomte, once again, impressed me. With one look at the drawing and he totally understood what I was proposing. No wonder Comte d'Armas left brainy things to this man.

"Do we have enough to build this?" Comte d'Armas asked, studying the schematic. Victor had called for him and explained what the thing was supposed to do.

"We could use the wheels from the carts, My Lord. We shall carve a shallow grove on the rim to guide the rope," Victor answered, circling his finger over a pulley wheel drawn on the dirt. He continued to inform the Comte that we had cut more than enough trees early this morning and had plenty left over.

"We should have it ready by tomorrow," Victor concluded.

"Excellent."

The Comte then turned and studied my face for some seconds.

"Yes, My Lord?" I bowed my head a bit, urging him to speak his mind.

"My lad, I am beginning to think-"

He was interrupted by a small group of half a dozen men in armor returning from the bridge. Sieur Henry was among them, and I could see the freshly made minor dents and scratches on the knight's breastplates. They were carrying hastily made plank shields that had arrows stuck on them like the back of a porcupine. One knight had an arrow stuck on the back of his thigh, which was protected by just a maille layer, unlike the plated front. The man limped and grunted. I saw Marion hurrying over to the wounded men. The rest of the group sat heavily down by a fire, and others brought them bowls of hot stew. Sieur Henry, though, came over to us.

"I do believe we have thoroughly ruined their breakfast," the Sieur said, removing his helmet, revealing the sweat-soaked bearded face. Apparently, while I was passed out during the night, thanks to certain someone kicking me in the head, the Sieurs and Chevaliers, with some footmen, took turns in small groups for a harassment duty. At seemingly random intervals, they went to the bridge, making as much ruckus as possible. They even tried to push off some barricades while they were at it. Each time, God's warriors rushed out from their camp and formed blockades. This had repeated throughout the night until the morning.

"Very well done, Sieur Henry," the Comte patted Henry on the back and continued, "please do get some sleep."

But the good Sieur was curious about the schematic drawn on the dirt, and so the Vicomte started to explain the thing.

Anna sort of detached herself from the Comte and other and drifted away, and I felt a bit awkward standing there among the noblemen all by myself, so I walked over to Marion. She was crouched, examining the wounded man's thigh.

"-and some clean water, too. Boiled, preferably, if you please," she was saying to the men gathered around the patient. The knight was lying on his belly, and two men knelt beside him, trying to cut away the maille around the wound. The brave knight clenched his teeth and grimaced, but stayed still while his comrades struggled to get the armor off. Marion went away for a bit but came back with a small wooden keg just in time as the section of the armor and the leather clothing underneath were finally cut away, exposing the bare thigh. I leaned in and had a good look. The arrow did not seem to have gone in too deep, which was fortunate. Marion knelt beside the knight, and as if on cue, somebody handed her a small knife, its blade red hot from having been cauterized by fire.

"Would you please step back a bit? I need a better, closer view," she demanded, and we took a step back. We watched in awe as a pair of sparrows descended from the sky. One sat on the knight's buttock, the other on Marion's shoulder, their small eyes fixed on the arrow-pierced wound. We, including myself, shut our mouths, humbled by this incredible display of witchcraft in action. We winced as Marion cut through the flesh, making it easier, and less damaging, to pull the arrowhead out.

"Hrng!" the knight grunted and rhythmically pounced on the ground with fists, but no more than that. He was enduring it like a champ.

"Now, I am going to pull it out," said Marion, but she was already slowly pulling the arrow by the shaft. At last, with a squelching sound, the arrowhead emerged from the flesh, leaving a hole that was soon filled with a pool of blood.

"Had the veins been hurt, more blood would have come out. This is good," Marion commented. She brought the arrowhead close in front of the sparrow on her shoulder to examine it. She sighed.

"Dirt. Soil. Humus. Feces."

The men around me cussed under their breaths. The arrow had been cursed, intentionally dipped into the soil beforehand. I suppressed my urge to tell the men it wasn't a curse but germs. In the end, it did not matter. The intended result was the same. The infected wound would fester, and oftentimes lead to a shock and further trauma. It was a common practice. I had also seen the Comte's men sticking their spears and swords and arrows in the soil.

Someone brought a bowl of boiled water, and Marion let it cool a bit before cleaning the wound.

"Now, this will feel a bit numb," she said, opening the lid of the small wooden keg she had brought. I recognized the smell right away.

"Is that-"

"Why, yes. You were there when I was making it."

Marion dipped a finger inside the container and scooped out a dark gooey substance. Applying the thick balm on the wound, Marion explained what it was.

"It's thinly diluted toxin extracted from those leaves that troubled your lady's arse. I mixed it with some other things to give the balm-like texture."

"Mademoiselle, you are giving him a poison?" A worried man standing next to me asked.

"There is no need to worry," Marion kept applying the medicine, "for it is very mild. This should weaken the agent of festering and also numb the pain."

So, basically, an antibiotic, I nodded to myself. It made me wonder. Just what kind of learning process, and how many generations had it taken to have this knowledge accumulated and reach this stage of practicality? Judging by the men's' reactions, the concept of antibiotics was still very new to this world, with only a few, such as Marion, our witch, applying it in practice. I felt humbled and fortunate to have lived in a modern society in my previous life. The enormity of the realization was a bit too much; I had to leave the scene and take a walk for a breather. One simple entry in the encyclopedia, for example, was a result of accumulated efforts spanning over centuries, even millennia. Countless brilliant men and women had tried and erred and sacrificed their time and energy in their quests for answers. And to what end? So that I, a bored youngster hundreds of years later, could scroll through the lines, not really appreciating anything nor comprehending, wishing there was a TLDR? How clueless I had been!

I stopped walking as I realized I had been going in a circle around our Lilly and Slinky. Anna was there. She was eating an apple from God knows where while her free hand patted Lilly's muscular neck. Our eyes met, and I scratched my head and flashed an awkward smile. She pouted, shrugged, and then offered me the half-eaten apple.

###

Upon the request by the Comte, Anna and I, along with Marion and her kinsmen, as well as some footmen, went to the river while keeping out of the enemy's sight. We spent the afternoon scouting along the water, and it was a pleasant and leisurely task thanks to Marion's birdseye view. We were looking for a spot where the current was not too fast, and the river was not too wide. And most importantly, the place had to be out of sight from Vidame de Soilet and his men.

We strolled down-stream, and I had a chance to talk to the Treedwellers about their elks, which kept me entertained.

"Next bend should be good," said Marion at some point, pointing at the section of the river far up ahead. When we reached the place, which was about five miles downstream from the bridge, I could not help but nod in agreement with Marion's assessment. The river was slow and narrow enough. That, on the other hand, meant deep water, but I thought it wouldn't matter because nobody was planning to sink to the bottom. An elongated mound of dirt on the other side blocked the view on the site, which would allow us to swim across unseen.

The men of Armas got busy. They had brought a long rope and were now tying it around one man's waist. After stretching a bit, the man jumped in the water and began to swim across.

"Armas is by the sea, so many of us learned to swim at young age," one of the men explained, keeping his eyes on his comrade in the water. The swimmer made about two thirds across, but then he began to struggle.

"He is going to drown!" I shouted, panicking a bit.

"Yes, we can see that."

The soldiers pulled the rope, and the man at the end of it relaxed, took a deep breath, and allowed himself to be dragged back to the riverbank. It took us some minutes to finally get him out of the water. Once ashore, the wet man shivered and jumped on his foot to shake the water out of his ear.

"The gambeson is soaking up too much," he said, taking the padded jacket off. It fell to the ground like a heavy sack. "It got too heavy."

"Well then, we would have to swim across wearing very light," said another man, and turned and ran his eyes up and down on Anna. He shook his head.

"Milady, I am afraid you wouldn't make it with all that armor."

He was right, I thought. Like many other knights these days, Anna had her front fully plated up, which meant heavy metal. But unlike the armor suits of other strong manly knights', hers lacked the maille layer that protected the backside and held the plates in the place. Well, our blacksmith back in the Roseland had indeed made a fully plated suit, front and back and all. Anna promptly collapsed and could not get up. So the suit was downgraded to maille with the plated front, but Anna still could not move at all thanks to all that weight. To the poor craftsman's dismay, we had no choice but to cut away the maille and break up the whole thing into sections. So, Anna, instead of wearing the set as a suit, would slip in and strap on pieces over the layer of leather trousers and linen shirt. But even with the reduced weight, there was no way she could swim across the river wearing those. And that posed a problem. My problem.

'I don't want you to go without armor,' I told Anna in our sign-language.

She did not respond, but fell in deep thought, her eyes gazing across the water.

We returned to the camp, and after reporting to the Comte, the men went around to collect woven baskets. They gathered about a dozen small baskets. Contents were emptied, and ropes were tied to the containers. In the meantime, a small group of knights in armor set out to the bridge. They were the first group in the rotation, tasked to force the enemy to drop everything and form up. The knights would take turns throughout the evening, till the next dawn.

Somebody brought a padded cloth jacket to Anna.

"This is the smallest I could find," the man said. Anna tried it on, and the gambeson was still too large she had to roll up the sleeves and wear it like a coat. I did not like the look of it at all, for it highlighted how petite Anna was, but the men seemed to have a different opinion. They 'Aw~'ed and smiled in adoration.

###

I managed to get some sleep before being woken up by someone shaking me. It was still dark, some hours before the first light. The Comte's men were getting ready, keeping the noise down. The air was cold and filled with the men's nervousness before the battle. I saw some men praying. Some were sharpening the tip of their spears. Others were stuffing their belly full. I heard squeaking and rattling as constructs were pushed out of the camp, and from a distance, there came the faint sound of our knights raising a ruckus on the bridge.

I crawled into the tent and shook Anna. To my surprise, she sprang up immediately. In silence, I put on the oversized gambeson on her, with a leather belt to which she hung her short sword. I combed and tied her hair into a tight ponytail to which Anna winced a bit.

When we crawled out of the tent, the Treedwellers and a dozen footmen were waiting for us.

"Come now. We have to be on the other side before the sunlight," one of them said.

The Comte came over and wished us good luck. Marion was with him, and she kissed her kinsmen's cheeks and whispered blessing into their ears. I hadn't forgotten my job.

"May Firis lead us to victory," I said to the nearby soldiers. They looked at me with blank expressions.

"Who?"

That hurt.

With that, we set out into the darkness, each carrying a small woven basket with a broad base. We were led by the Barkskins, who could see better than us humans in the dark, and they led us rather mindfully of our footing. We were accompanied by a pair of rodents on our way, but at about three miles mark, they were released from Marion's demand as her power diminished over the distance. I assumed it was the same for Anna's effect on Marion, too. I imagined Marion taking her blindfold off with a sigh of relief, enjoying her own sight and hearing for the first time in weeks during which she had been in a constantly overloaded state. I briefly wondered about the long term effect Anna's presence would have on the poor woman.

"We are here," the leading tree-dwelling warrior whispered, interrupting my thought. I had been trying to avoid thinking about what would follow, but now there was no other way to ignore reality. We were to swim across the ice-cold river, and then sneak up on the enemy from behind. Three hundred or so of armed men who had vowed to thoroughly mutilate my Anna.

'What the heck am I tagging along for?' I cussed at my foolish self. Blood and gore were Firis' bread and butter, but me? I was just a common tavern boy who had never held a weapon in his hand-

'Stay close to me,' Anna tapped on my shoulder to get my attention and gestured. I just nodded like the dumb frightened lad that I was.

In the dark, the men stripped and put their stuff in the baskets. The woven containers would, hopefully, float on the water, tethered by ropes to the neck or waist or ankle, whichever each felt comfortable. Being polite, the men and the Barkskinned folks got in the water first and began to swim, as to keep the naked maiden behind them, out of their field of view. I helped Anna out of her clothing and boots and put things in her basket, which she tethered to her waist. She shivered and shuffled on her bare feet while she patiently waited for me to undress. When I was finally ready, I made her go first, so I could keep my eyes on her from behind and know if something happened to her. After all, she was my responsibility.

By the time we reached the other side, the men were already dressed and gearing up. Even though it was still dark, they politely looked away as Anna half-crawled and half-walked out of the water. I had brought a towel with me for this very purpose, and the floaty basket thankfully did not let in too much water. I dried her off as best I could.

'I told you it would be too cold!' she angrily gestured, her whole body shaking like a wet dog and her teeth clattering.

"Stay still, please!"

I struggled to get Anna into her trousers because her legs were trembling too much, and she could not keep her balance on one leg when I tried to slide the other into the pants. In the end, I had to lay her down on her back and push in the legs horizontally. In the dark, I fumbled with the buttons of the trousers, and a tuft of nether hair got tangled. Anna whimpered and writhed in pain and slapped my head, but I managed to gear her up.

We discarded the floaty baskets on the riverbank, and first headed north for a few hundred yards, before making a sharp turn to the east, towards the bridge. If the three Treedwellers' eyes and their sense of direction were to be trusted, we were heading towards the rear side of the defender's camp. We marched in silence for what felt like forever until an owl flew in from nowhere and perched itself on my shoulder. Marion must have sensed we were back in her range, thanks to the inconvenience presented by Anna's divinity. Soon enough, a distant cacophony of noises came from the direction of the bridge. Comte d'Armas was advancing.

As we got closer, the noise grew louder, and we could see the sea of torchlight illuminating the Vidame's camp. The owl took off from my shoulder and hovered high above our heads, watching, providing the visual feed of our progress to Marion, who, in turn, would keep the Comte informed. We bent low and progressed carefully, until the last shadow at the edge of the camp's light. There were still some footmen milling about in the otherwise deserted camp, keeping the fires going and readying for breakfast. We were near the rear side of the encampment, but on this side alone, we could count about twenty or so men. There were sure to be some more on the river-facing side.

"Psst!"

A Treedweller warrior gathered our attention and pointed to a mound of dirt some dozen yards away. It was conveniently placed at the edge of the camp's illumination. It wasn't too tall but just high enough to provide an overlook of the area. We skirted around in the shadow and came to a stop at the back of the mound. The dozen footmen of Armas readied their weapons; axes and swords and hatchets and such. I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Anna. She gestured in the dark, and I could just make out what she was saying.

'You stay here,' she said.

"But-"

'Here. Stay.' She stomped her feet, and I shut up.

For hours we waited in the shadow, alert, listening to the men shouting. The large tilted canopy must be working as intended, for I heard a continuous rain-like noise, hails of arrows banging on the wooden plates.

###

At the crack of the first light, the owl came down low and hooted. A signal. The three Treedwellers ran up the mound, exposing themselves to the camp light. They crouched on top, with their bows drawn. They all aimed at something and let the arrows fly. They shot several more arrows. One of them turned his head to us on the back slope, and he gestured for the Comte's men to advance. The dozen footmen formed into two rows and sprinted towards the camp, with Anna tagging along.

I climbed up the mound and crouched down next to a Barkskin. Anna and the men were running across an open field, well lit by the torches surrounding the camp. But there was no shouting nor men running out to stop them. I did not need to wonder why for five or so dead men sprawled on the ground were the answer. The Treedwellers waited a bit in case some more enemies walked into positions where they could see our men. Few more seconds went by uneventfully. Judging the approach was secured, two of them slid down the slope and began running across the field, leaving their friend behind with me on the mound. The Treedweller kept scanning the area with his sharp eyes, the bow ready in his hands.

The view was better than I had anticipated. Not only I had the full view of the Vidame's camp, but I could also see what was happening on the river-side. The hastily constructed arrow-shield blocked my sightline on the bridge, but I could tell it was about two-thirds across the river. The self-proclaimed God's warriors had learned their lessons from the first day and had spread out the archers far to both sides, sending clouds of arrows. But the army of Armas had been pushing the barricades and obstacles aside, that got in the way of the arrows. The pulley system I had suggested was also in action, with horses pulling objects that were too heavy for the men, to the side, and plunging them down in the water.

The sun was rising, and the low red and violet sunlight fought with campfires and torches for dominance. But it was still very early in the dawn, and the shadows were deep, and the lights were dim. Marion, however, had nocturnal eyes in the sky. She knew exactly where we were and what we were doing. The owl had returned to the sky and circled about.

At last, there came a shout in the camp, followed by a loud banging of something metal, a pot perhaps. Anna and co were finally spotted. The intruders had just entered the camp's ground. They stopped running but kept walking fast, maintaining the formation. They kicked tents down in their path and stabbed and jabbed anyone who hadn't gotten out of the way in time. I saw a small group of enemies jump out of a tent and run away, shouting and alerting everyone.

The two Barkskins had caught up with the group, and together with Anna, the three walked some teen feet behind the Comte's men, keeping their eyes on the flanks and the rear. Vidame's men in the camp were forming up well ahead of my Anna, numbering in thirty or so. I couldn't quite tell from this far. Both sides were shouting and yelling as the distance between them grew smaller.

I lifted my eyes from Anna and looked further. Vidame's knights on horseback were gathering, and soon about half of them started to gallop towards the camp. I counted about six of them rushing to help defend their commander. It was probably the right decision, I thought. Riders were generally meant to shock the enemy flank, but their enemy was on a bridge. Then I wondered what our own knights of Armas and Sieur Henry were doing. I craned my neck to see better, but my sight was still blocked by the four-legged arrow-shield. It had by now crossed the bridge and was at the edge of the riverbank, shielding the men behind. I noticed a movement in God's warriors' ranks. The footmen were splitting up, and one group started to run back to the camp.

"Ah, that bad decision," said the Barkskin next to me. He was also watching the distant scene. 'Yes, they are many, but we strong."

As if on cue, the arrow-shield, a large wooden plate tilted forward, dropped to its right side. The Comte's men had axed the two wheeled-legs on the right, which led to the canopy to tumble to the side, effectively erecting a barrier. And the footmen of Armas emerged, formed up in multiple rows, shields and spears forward.

What followed was a complete opposite of what I had seen in the movies. I had totally expected Comte d'Armas to lead his men charging like Mel Gibson in Braveheart, screaming mad and penetrating into the enemy position, followed by chaotic hacking and slashing all over the place. But no, he was well behind and was, in fact, just starting to cross the bridge on his horse. The Comte was accompanied by Victor on his side, and they were moving slowly at a leisurely pace.

Now with the newly erected barrier protecting their right flank, the footmen advanced towards the waiting soldiers of Soilet diocese. They split in half, and the right element, with their shields raised, began advancing towards the archers to that side. The gap they left was quickly filled by the Comte's archers, who started pelting their counterpart, lobbing arrows over the advancing friendly.

God's warriors were in disarray. The footmen who were heading towards the camp were stretched long, and there was a hesitation, whether to keep running towards the camp or turn back and deal with the Comte's men. Their knights still on the scene gathered around and engaged in a heated discussion regarding what to do.

And then I saw a rapid movement on the bridge. Led by Sieur Henry, the armored riders of Armas made their way across the bridge, then flung left, heading towards the defending archers on that side. At first, the archers sent half-hearted volleys of arrows, that bounced off the plated armors. Some managed to down some unarmed horses, but the riders would quickly get on their feet and continue charge forward, screaming. The archers panicked and backed away, but the Comte's knights rode fast and crashed into the formation, skewing with spears and hacking with their swords. It was enough. The formation of archers on the left was completely shattered, and the men soon turned around and ran for their lives.

That had a distressing effect on the footmen facing the advancing soldiers of Armas. By now, they were exchanging blows with the Comte's men, the front rows of both sides ramming spears into opponent's shields. The left section of the defender's formation was shaken, aware that their friendlies on their flank were now shattered. Sieur Henry led the knights and gave a chase after the routed archers for a bit, but soon turned around and smashed into the back row of the enemy footmen from the side. That forced the Vidame's knights to come out of indecision. They set forth and rode towards the scene, heading straight to deal with their armored counterparts. But one man remained behind and scanned the battlefield. Judging by the armor he wore, and the lack of the red circle in white, I guessed it was the young Seigneur of Bourgillet. I was sure he was looking for Anna. Soon enough, having noticed Anna's absence on the riverbank, the young Seigneur turned around and rode fast towards the camp.

###

The dozen men of Armas who had intruded the camp were squaring off against about thirty or so defenders formed into a double row. To swim across the river, they had to travel light, bringing only swords and axes and hatchets and such. Going so against shields and spears would be stupid, and thus they smartly kept the distance. The two Barkskins had climbed up on stacked crates and, using their height, were shooting arrows down unto the enemy rows, which forced the camp's soldiers to back away. There was an attempt by the defenders to charge into the intruders, but Anna went around wide and jumped in from aside, like a raging tiger. A couple of men strayed out of their formidable formation, trying to get out of Anna's way. The Comte's men were quick to rush in and gang up on those two unfortunate souls and they then retreated back before the Soilet's spears could react. Anna dashed out from the enemy position and disappeared behind a tent.

Despite not sustaining any loss so far, the Comte's men in the enemy camp were making slow progress, thanks to the sheer mismatch of numbers and equipment. It was, in fact, incredible they were pushing forward at all, albeit slowly. They were, however, still some distance away from the large tent in the middle of the camp. It amazed me. Vidame de Soilet, who had not even bothered to come out to command his own men, was still in his tent, doing God knows what. Whatever his reason, Vidame de Soilet not being with his men had provided a juicy target in the backline, and his men on the river bank were forced to split up and rush back to defend him. In that sense, our mission was already as good as done. But the Vidame's knights were arriving well ahead of the foot soldiers. One man stopped his horse in front the Vidame's tent, and began organizing defense, waving his hands and shouting orders to the men around him. It was the knight who had silently dictated Seigneur Bourgillet's actions during our first encounter. Most likely, the most senior knight in Soilet's warriors. His peers, five of them, continued down the path between tents, heading straight towards the Comte's men, their horses galloping hard, spears held forward ready to smash into and skewer the soldiers of Armas.

The first of the knights reached the back rows of friendly footmen. He tried to go around and hit the intruders from a flank, but the tarp of the tent he was about to pass by shot into the air like an angry ghost. It engulfed both the horse's head and the rider in a wrap. Anna was clinging onto the thick fabric, and she threw herself down with all her weight, meaning to bring both the horse and the knight down. Alas, she was too light for the strong horse. The beast, suddenly blinded by the tarp around its head, reeled and jumped on its hind feet and swung its covered head wildly, trying to shake the thing off, and Anna was weightlessly flung into the air. Miraculously, or comically even, she collided with the confused knight, and together they tumbled down on the muddy ground, Anna on top of the hard-shelled man. The process had somehow freed the horse from the wrap, and the horse scampered off to a less stressful area.

Anna rolled over, shook her head, looked around, and located her sword. After quickly retrieving her sword, Anna jumped high and stomped down with both her feet on the small writhing lump under the fabric, the man's helmeted head, probably. She repeated this couple more times, and something dark oozed out and stained the tarp. Anna stomped on the man's head some more before throwing herself out of the way of a spear that narrowly missed her neck. The rest of the riders had arrived, and one of them tried to skewer this ravaging girl who was stomping on his fellow's head. I sighed in relief as she dodged, but clenched my butt hole even more because she now was in big trouble. Anna was isolated from the Comte's men. She was not wearing her hard metal armor. Shield-less, she held in her hand a worldly sword made by mortals for mortals, not her preferred weapon, the longsword of Firis that had been created by and for the divine goddess. Against four armored knights on horsebacks. Oh, yes, mustn't forget Vidame's footmen, too.

"Shit!" I muttered as Anna parried a sword that was swinging down on her head. She then rolled to her side just in time to dodge a spear that was meant for her back. On the ground, she threw herself once again to get out of the hooves of the horse a knight steered in an attempt to trample her. She swung her sword low in the process and sliced open the horse's underside. Steaming guts dangled down from the belly as the poor animal shrieked in pain and went into a full panic mode, throwing its master unto the ground. Anna dived sideways and, with all her might, precisely inserted her sword into the eye-slit on the helmet of the fallen knight. The man flailed and screamed so loud I could hear it even from this distance. Anna quickly stood up and, with one foot stomped on the hilt of the sword, driving it down deeper into the skull. The defeated knight twitched and went limp.

The three remaining riders on their horses were clearly stunned by this development. One waved his hand in the air, and a group of footmen detached themselves from the rows and set towards Anna on their flank. The Comte's men pushed forward to intervene but had to immediately back away as the opposing spears were thrust forward.

Anna, in the meantime, gave up on her sword. She could not pull it out of the dead man's skull. She instead picked up the fallen knight's spear and threw it hard, almost toppling herself in the process. The projectile flew straight into a rider's chest plate and promptly bounced off, not doing much apart from knocking the breath out of him. Frustrated, Anna threw her hands in the air and then gave one more go at pulling her sword out of the dead knight's head. The knights and the footmen of Vidame de Soilet closed in on Anna. The Barkskins sent desperate arrows and downed a number of footmen, but that wasn't enough. My Anna was going to die by the hands of mortals. I watched in horror as a sword struck down on her back. Anna stumbled and a spear connected with her right armpit from the front. The spearhead pierced the multiple layers of linen and cotton and jutted out on the back. Anna quickly regained her balance. She raised both her arms straight up and dropped to her knees. She fucking slid down out of the oversized gambeson, leaving the padded half-coat hung in the air skewered by the spear. She stepped forward and headbutted the surprised man holding the offending weapon. Despite now having nothing but a thin linen shirt protecting her upper body, Anna screamed and kept kicking and punching. She ducked beneath a hatchet in swing, sprang around and punched a knight's horse in the neck, but in return received the flat of a shield shoved into her face and fell on her ass.

And then, out of fucking nowhere, Lilly stormed into the scene. I had been so focused on Anna I failed to notice the black mare galloping all the way from across the bridge. Lilly spun around and kicked the head of a knight's horse. Together with its rider, the horse collapsed to a side, shot out all four legs straight, twitched, shat bucketload, then died. Lilly wasn't done. She jumped into the formation that surrounded her master, then kicked around and pounced like a rabid beast. The footmen scattered and backed away, getting in the way of their knights.

Satisfied, Lilly came to a stop before Anna and lowered her head for a quick pat. A well-deserved pat. To my surprise, Lilly was loaded with spears and shields strapped on her back, but more importantly, even from this distance, I could see the unsheathed sparkling blade tucked in among the cargo, the sword of Firis. Anna grabbed her longsword and tapped on Lilly's shoulder. The pitch-black mare neighed and charged through the enemy footmen, towards the soldiers of Armas. She made her way unopposed as the men got out of her path. The delivery was happily received with a loud cheer by the Comte's men.

"But how-"

I trailed off. The owl swooped down from the sky and passed Lilly, as if greeting, before returning to its position high in the air.

"My God, it's Marion, isn't it?" I shook the Treedweller next to me, excited. I looked further at the riverside. We were winning on that front, Comte d'Armas was pushing back the defenders of Soilet diocese. Beyond, there she was. Riding high on her elk, Marion was just getting on the bridge. The witch had kept her eyes on us, saw our trouble, and somehow convinced Lilly to listen to her.

Anna held her sword in two-hands and raised it high. She brought it down unto the knight on the ground, who was struggling to free his leg from his dead horse. She kicked the severed head, and it rolled away. Anna swung the sword up and down and left and right, and adjusted her grip. The deity and her divine artifact, now reunited and a complete package. She buried her front foot and then raised her sword before her. I felt a sudden chill on my back as the atmosphere turned heavy and reeked of death. With a bloodcurdling shriek, Anna ran up to the remaining mounted knights. To everyone's shock, she waltzed past the spears and sliced the armored men, along with their horses, to pieces.

Having done delivering the weapons, Lilly ran and stopped by her master. Anna mounted her horse and threw a look at the stunned enemy footmen. Whatever they saw in her face must have made them realize that the defeat was inevitable. The knees buckled as the men backpedaled. Anna nodded to the Comte's men and set off on her own, for finishing off a group of mere thirty or so scared foot soldiers was too menial for Firis the goddess.

God's warriors would, of course, never know the difference. To their eyes, it still was the same adolescent mortal girl who began to rampage and demolish their camp from within. Welp, that sight alone would be bizarre enough for anyone. But to me, at least, Firis was glorious.

Anna blitzed around for a while then cooled off, having vented her frustration. She went back to the group and helped to mop up the area. After that, she led the men towards the large tent in the center of the camp.

"Come, let us join them," said the Barkskin next to me. I nodded. Before leaving this vantage viewpoint, I looked over the camp, to the distance for the last time. The defense at the bridge had finally been shattered, and the Soilet's men were retreating to camp in a rather disorderly fashion, with Comte d'Armas pushing in very close behind. I gave a thumb up to the Barkskin, and he grinned back. We slid down from the mound and ran across the open field.

###

We made it into the camp and rushed to join Anna and co. We came across quite a few soldiers running in the opposite direction, those who had sensed the impending doom and decided to desert their brethren. They either skirted around or ignored the two us, except for one wild-eye man. He, perhaps thinking we were blocking his escape, charged right at me, with his weapon ready and screaming incoherently. I frantically waved my hands, shouting,

"No! No!"

The Treedweller warrior got in front of me and whacked the man's head with the hatchet. The poor soul flipped in the air and fell with a loud thud, splashing the muddy ground with the content of his cracked skull.

"You, no fight?" the Barkskin growled at me. He reached his hand out and took my handaxe from my belt. He swung it in the air as to demonstrate its use, then pushed the thing into my chest without saying any more words.

We did not have another incident thereafter and joined with the group that had crossed the river. I jogged forward and came next to Lilly. Anna gave me a small nod and looked ahead.

We were approaching the large tent, where Vidame de Soilet was presumed to be holed up inside. God's warriors had formed up around the tent, setting up a defense. The numbers were growing as the men from the riverside retreated to the camp. Still, even I could smell the sense of defeat emanating from the shaken men. Yes, it was totally understandable. This was not supposed to happen. The bridge should have been a deathtrap. Yet, here we were closing on them from both sides.

Anna reached down and tapped on my shoulder. She pointed at the senior knight of Soilet's army... or rather, what's left of them.

'He is deciding whether to charge us,' she said with her hands. I looked around. On this side, we were few: just a dozen footmen and the three Treedwellers. And Anna and me, but I, for realistic reasons, counted myself out. If they wanted to, they could try breaking through us the few and run away, but something was holding them up enough for them to hesitate. What could it be? I wondered.

I surveyed the defenders. The young Seigneur of Bourgillet was there, next to Vidame's senior knight, his eyes glaring at approaching Anna. I saw no other armored knights, which probably meant Sieur Henry and his fellows had thoroughly won the battle of noble hommes. The footmen were formed in rows, blocking our path to the tent. The majority of the defenders were on the other side, though, facing the fast-approaching men of Armas.

We came to a stop very close to the first row of defenders. Just some dozen yards in front of them. Anna held her head high, and God's warriors collectively took a few steps back. They had seen her dispatching five horse-mounted knights on her own. They had seen her rampaging.

The senior knight looked at Anna. He turned his helmeted head around to have a good look at the Comte's army. He then threw a look at the tent, whose occupant still had not emerged into the open. He faced forward again, to us, then removed his helmet. To my surprise, it was an aged man, with matted silver hair and beards and wrinkles. But the stern lips and the sharp eyes told me this old man had seen some rough shits in his days. After a long sigh, he nodded to Anna courteously.

"I have been honored to witness Comte d'Armas's reputed cunning, and the young Lady's ferociousness, which is of a lioness."

He bowed again.

"The young Lady Anna of La Rose, of the Roseland, I presume?"

Anna nodded back, accepting the compliment and acknowledging. She gave a soft kick in my ribs, and I stepped forward.

"Lady Anna La Rose, the heiress to the Roseland, the sacred who grants victory."

Anna gave me a quick look with raised eyebrows.

'What's up with that?'

'I'm doing my job,' I shot back in our sign-language.

The wrinkled man studied me for a bit and smiled.

"You serve her well, young lad. I know the burden; oh, I know it myself. You shall serve her well."

"I try my best, milord," I lowered my head dramatically.

One of the Comte's men with us stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"My good Sieur-knight. May we suggest Vidame de Soilet surrender?" He gestured, motioning the old man to look around. "We have crossed the bridge, and thus your purpose here, unfortunately, is no more."

"How dare you-," Seigneur Bourgillet burst in rage, but the old knight put his hand up to shut the younger one up. The senior knight of Vidame de Soilet eyed Anna again.

"Storming over the few of you and running away from the Comte would, obviously, be the choice of many. However," he nudged his head in the direction of the tent, "our circumstance does not allow us such luxury."

He sighed, took a deep breath, and continued.

"On behalf of Vidame de Soilet, I, a disgraced nobody who shall humbly remain nameless, lay our weapons and lives in Your Ladyship's discretion. I beg of the young Lady a kind and generous treatment of my fellow worshipers."

The young Seigneur of Bourgillet was furious. He shouted and cussed and refused to surrender, but everyone sort of ignored the man.

Anna made some hand gestures, and I lent her my voice.

"My good Sieur, alas, it is not up to me to accept your surrender, but I am more than certain Comte d'Armas, an honorable man with compassion, would do so with delight."

The old man nodded, satisfied. With that, God's warriors lowered their weapons. Many squatted down, suddenly all so tired and exhausted. The senior knight said something to his men, and they pushed and pulled the raging Seigneur Bourgillet away from the scene.

###

A messenger had been dispatched, who returned with the Comte and the entourage. As soon as he arrived, Comte d'Armas counted the men who had been sent on the special mission. Seeing everyone was standing upright and intact, he let out a sigh of relief. To our surprise, the Comte hugged Anna tight and patted on her bottom as if a delighted old man doing so to his grandchild.

"I knew it! I knew the young Lady would keep my men safe!"

He released Anna and beamed a huge smile. Anna blushed and sheepishly retreated to by my side. I nudged her with an elbow and gave a thumb up.

The senior knight serving Vidame de Soilet exchanged greetings with the Comte and officially surrendered.

"What does Vidame de Soilet say about this matter?" the Comte inquired.

"Would you like to meet him, my lord?"

The silver-haired knight waved his hand, and a couple of his men entered the tent. After a while, with a creaking sound, they pushed out a four-wheeled wooden cart from the tent. Hays was humbly laid on the cart, and there sat, like a mermaid on a rock, a thin disfigured young man in a white linen robe. We of Armas and the Roseland gasped at the sight. Vidame de Soilet was a hunchback, and the legs on the hays were not only bent but of differing lengths. He had long dark hair and a sagging face, but the eyes were bright and pure. Despite his defects, the man oozed dignity and composure. I realized why his men had given up on the idea of breaking through and running away. There was no way they could have made it out carrying this precious cargo on their back. I looked around, reading faces. God's warriors knelt down and lowered their heads in shame. They loudly and tearfully apologized to Vidame de Soilet for failing him.

The senior knight stood by the cart and gently placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Son, I am sorry. I have surrendered on your behalf."

Vidame de Soilet looked up, closed his eyes, and muttered some prayers. He opened his eyes again.

"Apologize to me not, father, for it appears this is the fate God has assigned to us. We shall humbly accept."

He then turned his gaze to the Comte. The young man nodded with a weak smile.

"My lord, the esteemed Comte d'Armas, please do excuse my horrible unsightliness."

"I do admit I am somewhat stunned," the Comte bowed apologetically, "for I have not known Vidame de Soilet to be..."

"A defect?"

"If you insist on that word."

"It matters not, my lord Comte, for in God's eyes all men are equal as His Excellency Archbishop Thoumas teaches us. Lo! Even a cripple like me holds a position in the Circle."

"Indeed. Nevertheless, I would rather not utter those words myself in your presence," said the Comte politely.

"Your Lordship is polite and considerate." Vidame de Soilet surveyed his men, meeting their eyes, soothing their soul. Turning his head back to face the Comte, he raised his voice and announced,

"My Lord Comte, in good faith I surrender myself and my-"

"I refuse!" Somebody shouted from the back of the crowd in a hoarse voice. Heads were turned to find the young Seigneur Bourgillet forcing his way through, pushing away the hands grabbing him.

"I refuse to surrender like this," he was saying, "I shall avenge my father!"

The Seigneur managed to reach the front row, albeit somewhat out of breath.

"At least, I demand a fair duel with the-"

He trailed off, his eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight of Vidame de Soilet.

"What is this? What is this unholy abomination-"

"Seigneur!" the silver-haired knight, who had been silent for a while, stepped up, "you will not offend Vidame de Soilet, who also is my beloved son!"

"But commandant, surely you jest! This crippled creature cannot possibly be-"

"And who this might be?" the young hunchback interrupted with a question to his father. The senior knight answered with an apologetic expression.

"Son, this is the newest Seigneur of Bourgillet. I let him join our mission, for the young Seigneur had pleaded for a chance to avenge his late father." He shook his head and continued. "I should have consulted with you."

Seigneur Bourgillet, at first, was in disbelief. He scanned his surroundings, took notice of hostile eyes, and quickly realized he had made a mistake. He knelt before Vidame de Soilet and apologized profusely.

I noticed a movement on my side. Anna was stepping forward, flexing her diamond-like sword. She stopped some good distance from the Seigneur, who saw Anna and turned his raged face. Anna gave a little nod.

'Bring it on.'

###

Men were dispatched to bring Anna's armor. We had moved out of the camp to a more open space, and everyone formed a large ring -- everyone except those wounded, and Marion and her Bark-skinned kins. The witch was busy in the camp, setting broken bones and dressing severed limbs.

Comte d'Armas was with us, not really happy with the situation. He had, to no success, tried to dissuade Anna from dueling.

Seigneur Bourgillet was waiting. Armored and on his horse, the young man paced left and right, waiting for Anna to get ready. His servants brought him a long lance along with a long sword, a mace, and a shield.

"This is not right," the Comte commented and shouted across the field. "Do you have a spare lance for the Lady, young Seigneur?"

"I do indeed, my lord," the Seigneur answered and nodded to his men. They took some time and brought one more lance from somewhere deep in the camp, just as the Comte's men arrived with Anna's armor. I helped her slide pieces on her limbs, and put on the breastplate, finishing the preparation by strapping everything tight.

"My young Lady, may I have a word with you?" the Comte approached closer. Looking at the Bourgillet's Seigneur, he continued.

"I shall soon pluck Baron Hugo from Bourg and bring him to justice. However," he turned his eyes to Anna, "Bourg would need a new master. It would be wiser to have a wide selection of candidates."

Anna blinked several times, then looked at me, puzzled.

"Milady, the Comte is requesting Seigneur Bourgillet be spared," I explained to Anna. We did not know whether Baron Hugo had an heir fit to rule the Barony of Bourg. To Comte d'Armas, the Seigneur of Bourgillet was an eligible candidate, what with being related to the Baron and all. Should the Comte decide to flex his muscle and interfere with the Barony's succession, it would make sense to instill this young Seigneur as the Baron, for he had experienced the might of Comte d'Armas first hand. I took a mental note of the Comte's confidence. The old nobleman was already thinking about post-Hugo Bourg.

Anna wasn't happy with the suggestion, but she wasn't going to argue with the Comte. She reluctantly nodded and got on her horse Lilly. Sieur Henry came with a helmet and a round wooden shield.

"I am afraid I could not find anything smaller," the good Sieur said apologetically. Anna tried the helmet on, but it was too large, The eye slit came down past her eyes and rested on the tip of her nose. The metallic container moved about around her head like an oversized bell. Irritated, Anna ditched the helmet. She reached out and received the round shield and had it strapped on her left forearm. I felt it was weighing her arm down too much.

From across the field, the Seigneur had been observing Anna getting ready. He called out to the silver-haired knight, who had volunteered to oversee the duel. After a bit of discussion, the old man came over to our side.

"Seigneur Bourgillet demands Your Ladyship wear a helmet, for the sake of the fairness and thus his honor."

Anna refused, shaking her head.

"There, unfortunately, is no such of the young Lady's size," Henry answered in Anna's stead. "One, which does not fit properly, would only be a hindrance. Besides," Sieur Henry frowned, "the duel is that of between a grown man and a frail maiden. Fairness and honor have already been lost."

"That is an excellent argument, good Sieur, and now I have become inclined to call this off."

The old knight eyed Anna inquisitively. She held her head high and nodded to the Seigneur's servants. They stepped up with the erect lance and handed it over to Anna.

"Very well. I shall respect the Lady's wish to fight against the odds."

I was sure I heard the Comte beside me chuckle. I glanced sideways, and he winked playfully. Confident.

Anna struggled to keep the lance pointed up. It was quite different from what I had imagined. I had seen movies where knights engaged in jousting tournaments. The lances in such films were long sleek poles with handguards and blooming tips. This one in Anna's hand was different. Even I could tell it was meant to skewer people and kill on impact. A lengthy straight pole of hardened wood, of roughly eight feet or so. At the end was a menacing, sharp, foot-long spearhead made of iron, the weight of which, coupled with the laws of physics, made it difficult for Anna to keep it steady. The tip of the lance swayed nervously high above Anna's head, as the maiden tried to balance the thing with the little strength of her thin arm.

"Are you actually familiar with the lance?" I asked nervously. I eyed her sheathed sword, hung by her belt at an angle. 'Maybe it would be a good idea to stick with what she can actually use?' I thought.

Both her hands occupied, Anna shrugged and nodded at the same time, not really giving me a definitive answer.

Before I could say anything further to Anna, the silver-haired knight shouted something to his men, and they responded by blowing horns and bugles. Anna nudged Lilly forward, and across the field, the Seigneur of Bourgillet did the same.

Soon the trots turned to gallops, and the two horses headed towards each other at top speed. I clenched my fists as Anna rode fast. Shield ready, she lowered the lance to a horizontal position, transitioning to the under-arm couch hold, and she then promptly failed to keep the balance. The heavy tip dipped low and plunged into the soil. This sudden resistance to the forward momentum nearly knocked Anna off her mare. She certainly would have, had she not immediately lost her grip on the lance. Almost falling backward, Anna flailed her arms to regain her balance, but in doing so, she left her front completely unprotected.

"Oh, shit!" I heard myself cussing. I felt the blood draining out of my face. Seigneur Bourgillet was almost on top of Anna, and he thrust his steady lance aimed at Anna's open chest.

Lilly, bless that beast of a mare, did her magic. The midnight-black mare swerved, and that created just enough space for Anna to lean and twist her waist and let the incoming death pole slide past. But the goddamned shield! The lance-tip slid along Anna's side-turned chest, scraping the breastplate, and smashed into the inner flat of the shield held by the now open left arm.

With a loud yelp, Anna was knocked off her horse backward. She spun in the air like crazy and fell hard on the ground. There was a collective gasp from the men of Armas, whereas the soldiers of Vidame de Soilet cheered loudly.

"What is wrong with her!" Sieur Henry uttered in disbelief from my side. Indeed. 'What the fuck?' I wondered. This was not supposed to happen. Firis, the goddess, embodied victory. It was both theoretically and practically impossible for her to lose a fight like this. Really. What the fuck?

The Seigneur turned his horse around, adjusting his grip on the lance. Anna whimpered and forced herself up, half crouched and half standing. Her left arm dangled low rather limply weighed down by the armor piece and the shield strapped on the forearm. The shoulder sagged, dislocated by the brute impact it had experienced. Still shaky from the fall and in pain, Anna stood up.

The young Seigneur rode fast and thrust his lance, but Anna jumped high in time and bashed on the wooden shaft with the flat of her shield carrying all her weight. She was screaming from the pain in her dislocated shoulder that once again bore the impact. There was a dreadful noise of the woods scraping each other, but that ended almost immediately as the Seigneur lost his grip. The lance dropped to the ground, along with Anna. She rolled and whimpered some more.

Seigneur Bourgillet turned his horse around yet again, this time drawing his sword.

Anna stood up and reached for the hilt of her sword with her good hand as Seigneur Bourgillet galloped towards her. Face distorted in rage, pain, and frustration, Anna roared like a beast and drew her diamond blade.

And the time crawled to a near halt. I turned my head and saw Sieur Henry frozen in the glacial current of the time, his face contorted. Tiny droplets of spit were suspended in front of the open mouth as the good Sieur was shouting something. I nearly jumped out of my skin as a bolt of lightning struck down the ground a mere yard in front of the Seigneur's horse, and the morning sky suddenly turned dark with stormy clouds, and the air was filled with the smell of things burning and getting squashed. Yet, through a gap between the clouds, a ray of ethereal light shone down on the divine maiden, and the light blinded me as it reflected off the sparkling blade of the godly artifact. On top of the sound of million banners flapping in the howling wind, thousands of trumpets blared, quickly followed by the delayed crack of thunder that accompanied the previous lightening-

Was what I, the herald of Firis, witnessed, but as if magic, everything was back to normal within a blink of an eye. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. People were moving again, but nobody seemed to have taken notice of what just happened. To them, nothing remarkable had taken place. Yet there was a patch of scorched ground at the feet of a horse that was now in a full panic mode. The horse neighed and stood on its hind feet and pissed and shat and threw the young Seigneur off before escaping from the scene at full speed. Away from the horror that stood in the center of the dueling ground.

Seigneur Bourgillet grunted and rolled. He was quickly on his feet again. His shield facing forward, and the sword raised to strike, the young master of Bourgillet dashed. Anna could not raise her shield thanks to the inconvenienced shoulder, but she did not need it. With her good arm, she put her sword before her and, pirouetting, gently nudged the coming strike to her right, letting the Seigneur's arm flow past her. Anna swiftly kneed the back of the Seigneur's thigh. Because the leg was carrying the weight, he promptly lost his balance and stumbled a few steps forward. He quickly spun around and swung his shield, hoping to hit Anna with the edge, but immediately froze in mid-motion.

Anna had taken a step back and raised her sword extended horizontally, at the exact level and distance such that when the Seigneur spun around, the tip of Anna's blade swiped into the horizontal eyeslit of the helmet. The sword didn't go that deep into the helmet. Just enough to scratch the nose bridge, which was sufficiently menacing. The young Seigneur of Bourgillet hastily backed off, but Anna pressed forward in sync, maintaining the sword in contact with the man's head.

All cheers and groans that had filled the area stopped. It had become so quiet I could hear people holding breaths. Bourgillet's Seigneur tried to move his head away from Anna's sword but to no avail. She moved in perfect sync and kept the tip of the sword resting in the eyeslit. The man then came up with a bright idea. He threw himself backward with his chin raised, facing the sky. Anna pushed forward but could not move the sword high enough to keep up with the new angle.

Freed from the predicament, the Seigneur rolled on the ground and got back on his feet. He cautiously circled around the small maiden with his shield and sword ready. Anna lowered her sword and watched him, her face now calm, albeit still flustered somewhat pink from trying to suppress the pain.

"Come on!" I cheered for my Lady.

As if on cue, the Seigneur stepped forward in a low stance and thrust his sword over the top of the shield, aiming for Anna's neck. My girl nonchalantly flicked her sword upward and swatted the coming attack to aside. Her sword then swerved and, with the broadside of the blade, slapped the Seigneur's head, which made a loud metallic ringing noise. After that, it was all Anna slapping the man around like a cat toying with a mouse. No matter what he tried, the young Seigneur of Bourgillet kept getting his head bashed and slapped and, in some instances, stomped on. This went on for some minutes, and everyone was feeling rather disgusted by Anna's utter dominance. Despite the rocky start, she clearly was winning.

At last, the silver-haired knight, who's job was to see to it that the duel followed the codes of noble hommes, had had enough.

"My Lady, please! Honor the code! End him swiftly!"

Anna stopped. She glanced down at the man who was on both knees, swaying back and forth on the verge of losing consciousness. Anna took a step back, dropped her sword, and motioned for me. I stepped up.

"Milord, upon the suggestion by the most generous Comte d'Armas, Lady Anna wishes to spare Bourgillet's Seigneur."

"Is that so?" The old man then addressed the young Seigneur, "My young Seigneur of Bourgillet. You have been defeated and humiliated. Do you insist on a swift death, or accept the defeat in return for being spared?"

The young man fumbled with his helmet and took it off. His face was pale, and the eyes were unfocused. He retched and threw up from all the head-bashing he had suffered. Panting from the ordeal, the Seigneur raised his head.

"I... I humbly and gratefully accept my defeat. The Lady is so generous."

He then got all on fours and threw up again, before fainting.

"Yeah!" I yelled in joy and punched the air, joining the cheering men of Armas.

###

Marion pushed Anna away, not even looking at the girl.

"You are not bleeding. You are not dying. You can wait," she said, busy working on a soldier who was spurting blood out of the puncture hole in his chest. His face was gray and covered with dark blood that he had coughed out. The man's pals knelt beside him, holding both hands and whispered soothing words. Marion examined the wound, sniffed and tasted the blood, and after a long sigh, she shook her head.

"This is beyond me. I am sorry."

"Don't be, mademoiselle," the dying man coughed some more blood before continuing, "Thank you anyway."

Marion gave a gentle squeeze on the man's shoulder and moved onto the next person who sat a couple of feet away. Anna and I followed for we didn't really know what else to do.

I had taken Anna's armor pieces off and removed the gambeson. Her left arm sagged and dangled unnaturally. Pale-faced, Anna whimpered and sobbed and was covered in cold sweat that soaked her thin shirt. I pulled the collar of the shirt from the back and peered down and could see a long deep purple bruise on her back where the sword had struck. The gambeson had done its job stopping the blade, but the force was just too much. There were also cuts and bruises everywhere, but I was especially worried about the horribly colored bruise on her ribcage. 'What if something was broken?'

Marion was done with her patient and stood up to move onto the next. We were sort of in the way, and she almost bumped into us. Annoyed, she stopped for a second. A sparrow perched on her shoulder ran its small eyes up and down Anna's body. With a snort, Marion grabbed Anna's left arm and pushed it up in one snappy motion. The sound of the joint getting re-socketed made my hairs stand up, and I cringed and winced.

"Arrrggghh!"

Anna screamed, and, for an inexplicable reason, kicked me in the shin repeatedly.

I rolled on the ground, massaging my shin, and Anna was squatting with her hand on her shoulder, whimpering. Marion stood tall before us and clicked her tongue.

"That should do for now. Now, go bother someone else. I will have a look again later."

I felt Marion's head turned my way slightly as if she wanted to add something, but she held back. Instead, she shooed us away like a busy mom telling the kids to go play outside.

We wandered aimlessly for a while. Finally, we decided we would go and fetch our stuff, Slinky, my donkey in particular. One, because we were exhausted and wanted to pitch our tent and get some sleep. Two, because Anna was feeling cold and needed warm stuff from my travel sack.

The Comte's men were busy moving things across the bridge, settling down in God's warriors' camp. It would have been a difficult job because they had previously disassembled and re-purposed carts and wheels, but Vidame de Soilet offered his men and wagons to help the Comte move the materials across the river.

We were too drained to walk, so Anna made me ride with her on Lilly. I sat behind Anna and wrapped my arms around her waist, which was rather small and did not offer much for me to hold on to. Her head reached about my chin and stank of sweat and damp hair and adolescence, and the head bobbed up and down as Lilly trotted at a leisurely pace.

"You scared me when you plunged the lance into the ground. What happened?"

Anna glanced back and shrugged. She made gestures with her hands, and I had to peer down from above her shoulder to see what she was saying.

'I don't know. It was just too heavy. The shield was also too heavy.'

"But aren't you supposed to be-"

'Look at me. I'm just a girl. Those things are made for grown men.'

"Hmm..."

I shut up and wondered. Something did not make sense.

"Maybe you need to exercise. Build up some strength." I felt up and down her arms. "Look, no muscle at all."

Anna chuckled. She leaned back onto my chest and rested the back of her head on my shoulder. She turned her face to look up at me, and her breath tickled my neck, and it also smelled terrible from not cleaning her teeth for some days. I turned my nose and looked up. The sun was high, and the sky was clear, yet the air was chilly and made me shiver. The winter was coming.

Men passing by cheered and whistled at the sight of us. Whereas Anna smiled and waved, I blushed and cleared my throat and pushed her away a bit. There was a stream of men and carts and horses moving things across the bridge.

It had been a long morning. Many things happened, and soldiers were hurt. But in the end, Vidame de Soilet surrendered and made peace with Comte d'Armas. We were now in Bourg.