The rain pounded down thick and sharp, like the volley of an enemy force. Lady Matilda Bathurst of Selburne rode atop her armored steed, which moved at the head of the marching column. Her forces were supposed to have set out for the Dunbari camp over a fortnight ago, and she wore her displeasure openly upon her face.
This was hardly her first time leading her forces, and had in fact done so many times in war, but this time felt different. For most of her life she had led soldiers in the civil war that had consumed her family lands, fighting her own kin and countrymen for years, and always effectively, efficiently. This, however, was the first time she led her army on behalf of another realm, and the managing of logistics and supply proved hectic and sprawling.
And, now, here they were; travelling well past the end of travelling season, laden with supplies. There had already been minor battles with the Anlari, and many skirmishes beside those. With it all in full swing, she knew the roads were not safe from the enemy-- even this far from the front.
Particularly, she had received dispatch from the Dunbari about Anlari raiders that had snuck past their lines, and now stalked the back roads between patrols. One she was warned of was simply called the Rider in Black-- a name she scoffed at, but acknowledged the danger inherent of the report. She had heard that this Rider had slain nearly fifty soldiers on their own in the opening battle-- at Brandton hill. Indeed, that was another title; The Demon on The Hill.
They road she and her forces marched went south, flanked on one side by dense forests and thickets, and a steep stony slope on the other. The scenario, in its totality, was unnerving to Lady Matilda. And that was when she heard the sound.
The whistle and whir of the arrows, and the impact against armor, and the falling of men. She rapidly turned her steed, just in time for the incoming light; how it shined in the deep, dark oceans of her eyes. The blast of exploding flames consumed the soldiers, melting some, and flinging others. It all happened as if underwater; movements slowed, sounds muffled.
When the world caught up, the blast caused her horse to buck with such violence, it tossed even its exceptionally experienced rider. She tumbled and rolled down the muddy, stony slope, over and under, her armor and body sounding like a marchers drum in full tilt. She landed at the base of the slope, her once white armor now mud-covered, from under her helmet blood began to seep.
She took an eternal moment, before swiftly turning to look back up the slope. She saw the dissipating flash and smoke, and the rag-dolling armored bodies following her path down the slope. She shakily and wildly clamored over to the first to land, in some bid to see if they were alive, only to be grimly disappointed.
Lady Matilda spat, cursed, and have even shed a tear in anger. Given the numbers of her men falling down the hill, she knew that few survived, and that any attempt of mounting an effective counter-attack would be almost impossible. Her best plan now would either be flee back to Selburne, or trek alone to the Dunbari; either way, her plan was singular; revenge.
She rose slowly, her left foot barely slipping. The pain in her chest panged and roared-- she knew she had a broken rib. She ran her tongue over her teethe, checking for loose ones, and spitting out the one that left its post without leave.
She trudged into the brush, despite her injuries, the sound of the ambush winding down as she moved on. Her mind slipped into a numb daze, trying to not focus on how much everything hurt. She instantly snapped back to the here-and-now; she heard a branch break.
She turned quickly, and saw a squad of Anlari soldiers with swords, spears, and bows. Wordless glances flew, it was clear they recognized her as someone to capture rather than simply murder. She slowly outreached her arms,
"C'mon then" she said in her thick accent, dropped of any high-born air " Let's get on with it."
The soldiers cautiously approached, a sudden trepidation creeping into their movements. When one, presumably the bravest or most foolish, finally came just a hair too close. In a smooth, practiced motion, she gripped the soldiers tabard, and spun them around, and pulled their own dagger to their throat. She held them as a hostage and to cover any arrow fire. All of this before the other soldiers could register what had happened.
"Let him go!" One of the archers barked, "and we won't go rough on'ye too badly", all from notable distance. "Well", Matilda said steadily through her teeth, "Come get 'im" The moment hung, only broken by the sound of heavy breathing, and the rain crashing through the canopy.
The stalemate was shattered when she suddenly stabbed her hostage in the inner-thigh, then threw him into the next nearest, but not before grabbing and pulling him back just as the archers fired, and used him as a shield. A wicked teeth-barring grin marred her face, as she could see the looks of the Anlari faces as they realized who they actually shot. The two closest, in their bewilderment, then attacked.
Now she really did throw the dying Anlari she held. destabilizing one of her assailants, and dodging the spear of the other. As she dodged, she grasped and pulled the spear, and violently tore it from its owners hands. As terror gripped the now-spearless soldier, Lady Matilda rapidly closed in, and delivered her knife into their neck.
In the next motion, she then spun her new spear, and drove it into the other nearby soldier. As she turned to the archers, she saw that they had begun to turn and flee. As the started to do so, she launched her spear into one with a might toss, and they fell as the now-lone survivor continued into the dark, soaked underbrush. They alone would spread the story of what happened here.
Now all alone, surrounded by her dead foes, the pain came crashing back into her body, and she braced herself against a tree, lifting her visor, and vomiting. Then, there was nothing for a time beyond her hurt, and the breathing. In a long moment, Lady Matilda Bathurst of Selburne composed herself as best she could, then set off. It would be sometime before she reached the Dunbari camp.
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