My long time fantasy heroine Cerce, by Maria Giada del Vecchio
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
The Body of a Warrior.
Inspired by the art of Tess Fowler and Frank Frazetta.
===
Jacca had the body of a warrior.
He was bronzed from years under the sun. Hiking in the mountains, working in the fields. He had the corded muscular arms of a fighter, who swung the blade of his great-sword with practiced precision. He had the scars of a life in soldiering, and the hard, dark brow of a million drunken brawls.
Jacca had the body of warrior, and Jacca was dying.
Stabbed in the back, of all things. By a common bodyguard. To think, he'd felled giants. Jacca gave a curse and tried once more to reach for the leather wrapped hilt of his great-sword, but it remained a hairs breadth out of reach, his huge calloused fingers clutching at nothing but dust.
Balerath loomed over him. The old wizard sneered as he nudged at the fallen warrior with a pointed toe slipper.
"All this muscle, and where does it get you, eh? Such a waste." He muttered, before giving a sharp kick to the side of his fallen enemy.
"Any last words?" He asked grimly, gesturing his open hand at Jacca in a strangely limp-wristed yet clearly threatening gesture.
The warrior gave a chuckle through his bloody teeth as he looked up at Balerath, the old man's curly hair seeming a wispy coronet in the temple light.
"Tell my wife I shall see her at the gates."
Balerath tutted away the curious sentiment with a toss of his head, and raised his hand to the guard who lurked at his side.
Jacca had no fear in his eyes as his assassin moved in for the killing blow.
===
The child's feet sent dirt flying in his wake as he darted through the stone buildings on either side of the street. He flew up the steps to the simple house at the end of the row. A plain affair, hammered together by steady hands, and without stopping to knock, he thrust open the door and called out.
"Miss Caja! Miss Caja!" His shrill voice exploded. He sprang down into the low hearth, where a pot hung over cold white coals. A heavy hand fell on the boy's small shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Caja looked down at him, her brown eyes wide. Her bushy black hair was tied back with a simple string of cord, and her brow was damp with sweat. In one hand she held a hammer. Standing, she was entirely twice the boy's height, and loomed over him, her broad figure making the rest of the room look a little smaller.
"Please, Irri, if you need something, just knock nicely. Don't scream your head off in my house and scare my chickens." Caja's voice was calm, commanding. She gave a reassuring smile, the big scar across her cheek used to frighten the children around the village until they got to know her.
Irri didn't return the smile, responding only by rushing to press his face into her heavy leather shift and bawling.
Caja placed a hand on the boy's head, and remained quiet. When the boy stopped in his heaving enough to open his mouth to speak, Caja shushed him, and whispered.
"It's okay little one... I know."
Caja knew Irri would spend all day waiting by the village gates to watch Jacca return with some giant dead thing tossed over his shoulder ready for the spit, and would trail him all the way back asking questions about old adventures, old battles. There's only one reason Irri would come to her in tears.
There was a gap on the wall where Jacca's best blade normally hung, and Caja studied it solemnly.
"You idiot, Jacca." She said, quiet as a ghost.
Kneeling, she rubbed at Irri's cheeks.
"You know what warriors do? They go to the great Abyss beyond, with fire in their hearts, and where they battle demons in grand victories beside their glorious ancestors. So don't cry."
Caja rose, and went over to the other side of the room, the place where her best sword was still hanging.
Irri rubbed his snotty nose with his hand and spoke through sobs.
"They said...they said if anyone else comes up looking... looking for trouble they'll get the same."
"The ones from the old man with the beard? With the silly looking clothes on?"
Irri nodded, his eyes red from rubbing.
"I know the ones. They won't hurt anyone else. You go off home now. Tell your old man I shan't be around to shoe the horses this afternoon as planned."
===
Caja left town without a word to anyone. She stopped for water at the village well, her sword gripped in her hand, the worn leather of her work shift heavy under the sun. Her hair was hanging free, long black locks shading her brow. It was a walk that took her through the height of the afternoon. First through the fields that bordered the village, then through the fields that carried on green and lustrous for miles, to the moors that overlooked the valleys below. By the time Caja arrived at the the mountain pass, the sun had long begun its descent into the west.
The old markers that once directed travelers to the monastery had been broken and defaced in the decades since the peaceful place had been abandoned. Balerath had moved in some time later, filling the locals with unease and lining the pockets of cheap mercenary bodyguards.
Jacca just couldn't leave an old wizard alone, Caja should have known that. If there was a fight to be found, her Jacca would get himself in it. She remembered the time he staggered back home with his head bound in bloody bandages, having fought a Dwarf to a standstill after accidentally insulting the Dwarf's sister. Can't take those boys anywhere.
As she trod the broken steps leading upwards, she tested the weight of the sword at her side. A plain longsword, straight and sharp as a blade of grass. She'd hammered many in her time, broken twice that number, probably.
As she came to the front of the old temple. She found herself stared down by two men flanking the open gates. The pair looked awkwardly like opposites of one another. The first being a man of bulging muscle and bald head, the second, a wiry little man with a prodigious beard.
The guardsmen looked to each other with a confused exchange, sizing up the warrior before them. Caja approached calmly, the blade at her side in silent threat. Her bare feet padding panther-like on hot stone.
The bald one gave a curt not to his bearded companion.
"Old man said there'd be more of 'em. Always is. Bloody barbarians. Like flies."
The bearded one laughed at his companion, and unlatched a heavy axe from it's place on his belt, he stepped towards Caja confidently.
"Since I'm the gentlemanly type, I'll give you a chance. Old Balerath says I gotta do you in if any more of you people turn up around here looking for 'im. But it'd be a shame to nick off that pretty head, so how about you call it a day and turn around eh? No 'arm done."
Caja looked at him, her big brown eyes took the measure of him in a few seconds. His cheap leather armor, his over-heavy weapon. The way he stood with all his weight on his right leg. She raised her blade to point at him.
"You'll find a grave soon as you like should you not let me through, worm. I will give you one chance. Step aside or I assure you, harm will be done."
The bearded guard turned to his friend and gave a great shrug.
"It's always the pretty ones that are crazy, always."
Caja stood motionless, her sword extended, eyes narrowed. There was a chill in her gaze that sent a shiver down the man's spine.
The guard swung his axe for Caja, aiming for her breast.
Caja moved fast, hopping aside and out of his reach, the head of his axe swinging wide and taking his weight with it.
Caja tried to pivot, but the leather of her shift tugged at shoulder and hip awkwardly. She growled in frustration. Instead she stepped in close, the ball of her foot coming down full force on the instep of his left foot. Cheap boots crumpled, and the man howled.
The guard tried to raise his arm to have another go at her, but something in his chest was cold, and it seemed to take the strength out of him.
Caja's blade slipped deep into his heart as it stopped beating, and she slid him off and to the ground. She swung her blade free of blood in a quick flicking motion, and leveled the blade at the bald man who stood staring at her.
He stared down at his fallen companion with confusion and shock.
"Fuckin' hell." He coughed out, fighting to pull up his mace in time as Caja came forward like a bull.
The big man got his mace loose in time to block Caja's huge overhead swing, the weight of it knocking him back a few steps. He fought to retain his footing as she came at him again, her blade swinging. The warrior's woman's assault came too fast to get an opening, and he let out a gasp of shock.
Caja twisted into another swing, bringing her blade around at head height in a decapitating swing. The rough leather of her shift was tight about her chest, and it tugged uncomfortably as she moved. The heavy garment slowed her just enough to give the guard the advantage, as he stepped his big form outside the reach of the swipe, and came at her with his spiked mace. The head of the weapon missed braining Caja by an inch, ducking aside with a roar of rage.
The guardsman stepped back, carefully balancing his mace in his hands, eyeing the warrior that opposed him.
Suddenly, Caja grabbed at the buckle on her shoulder and tugged, tearing it open. She continued to unlatch and pull at the heavy garment, until it broke open and came loose, falling about her feet. Without the heavy leather shift made to protect her from the heat of the forge, Caja wore not a stitch. Standing naked in the shadow of the mountain above, Caja stretched to her full height. She felt the sudden rush of cool air against her skin, raising gooseflesh. The blood and fury of the old days were rushing back to her, the memories of leaping from boat to boat in the savage harbours of the barbarian coast, when the only garments that wouldn't soak through and weigh her down were none at all. The heavy blade in her hand was all she needed. She smiled the smile of a wolf mother in her den.
The guardsman stared, jaw slack, at the naked woman before him.
Stripped of all, Caja had the ruddy burnished skin of a worker. She had the soft curves of a woman. The hard edges of a leader. The lips of a wife. The eyes of a hunter. She had the heavy tits of a mother. She had the scars of an old soldier.
It was the body of a warrior.
The guard stuttered,
"What are you doin'? Are you mad?"
Caja licked her lips, her body slowly lowering into a fighting stance.
"I am Caja the frost, little man. Prepare yourself."
He hadn't the time. Without the restrictions of her shift, Caja moved like lightening, darting forward and putting the curve of her entire body behind the swing of her blade. Her hair swooped behind her, a wave of black through the air, too fast. The heavy head of the guards mace came up short, the steel of her blade cutting through the curve of his shoulder pad and deep into his collar.
The guard gave a gurgling attempt to muster his weapon up, but Caja crushed his fist in her own, pulling it tight to her and tugging his whole body forward. Her forehead met his nose with a wet crack and dropped him to the ground in a heap.
Caja stepped over his fallen form, the yawning mouth of the temple before her. The she wolf could smell her prey.
===
Down the long hallway Caja strode, the cold stone of the floors chill on her bare feet. It had been long seasons since she'd felt her heart beat like this. It reminded her of when she met Jacca. She'd broken his collarbone and his left arm in two places, and he had broken her nose and cracked the pommel of her best sword before they decided to call it a draw and get to know one another. Like fire and ice they were. He with the heat in his blood, the flames of conflict, she with ice in her veins, cold and cruel in battle.
Balerath was stooped over a low table, mulling over a great tome of some no doubt nefarious knowledge, when Caja kicked open the temple door, sending it crashing into the room. He half turned at her entrance, then turned again fully, shock in his eyes as he gazed her over.
"What is this?" Balerath's face twisted in shock and confusion. He waved a gloved hand madly at a guard snoozing with her feet up across the room.
"Is this what I pay you for? A second intrusion in one day?" The wizard snapped.
The girl found her feet lightly, her body covered in the snugly fitting black cloth of an assassin. Deft little fingers played with the hilt of a scimitar hanging from her hip.
"You savage ones are bold ain't you? Coming in here making a racket." She said as she approached.
Balerath stepped backwards from the battle floor, his eyes snapping to a tall black staff standing across the room.
"Don't chat with her, kill her!" He barked. The assassin gave a shrug.
"What are you worried about? You scared of a noisy barbarian with her undercoat out?" The girl gestured at Caja's body. "When's the last time you got to see a naked bird anyway you old shriveled up..."
She nearly didn't dodge the chair that came flying at her head. Darting aside, it sailed across the room and smashed against the stone wall. Caja flung another seat under arm at her to sidestep, the pantherlike steps of the naked woman taking her into melee range with the assassin in moments.
Both women were fast, the blade drawn and darting in the assassins hand in time to curve away the first heavy blow from Caja's sword. The girl could see the bulge of Caja's muscle, and knew that she couldn't trade blows without breaking her wrist, so opted for playing dirty.
Rolling backwards into a neat crouch, the assassin produced a handful of metal shavings from her belt, tossing them up in Caja's face. The warrior stepped back, blinking furiously, a low roar beginning in her throat.
The assassin was up and leaping in the blink of an eye, the razor edge of her curved blade coming down in a huge swipe, aimed to split the nude warrior down the middle. Even blind, Caja was faster. Moving beyond conscious thought, her body twisted sideways and leaned back, the blade slicing down a whisper away from her flesh. Close enough to shear hair from her crotch, the blade passed by to clang into the ground where her feet had been a split second before.
Dropping the curved blade to the ground, the Assassin stepped in with a vicious little dagger, curved upward for sticking into guts. The assassin almost pierced Caja's stomach as she thrust out, the serrated tip slicing the flesh below Caja's breasts. Caja snarled into the girls face, jerking an arm out to catch the assassin in the teeth with her elbow. She spit blood into Caja's face, and twisted nimbly to strike again with the awful little blade. Turning it with the hilt of her sword, Caja shoved her elbow inside the girl's reach, and jerked it up, pulling up the assassin's shoulder and with it, opening her side. Caja's knee came up like a battering ram, cracking ribs and crushing lungs.
The girl's eyes bulged, and she was gasping for breath as Caja stepped back to kick her in the gut full force, bending her over double. Caja brought her sword overarm to slice off the brunette's head in a clean arc.
The assassin's head was still bouncing as Balerath tried frantically to ready his staff. A twist here, a somatic whisper there, the crackling staff was hard on his arthritic old hands. He tried to ready the thing, his face twisted into a sneer, as Caja slapped him across the mouth with the back of her closed fist, her bloody knuckles crunching again his jawbone. An arm shot out to the staff, and pulling it from old hands, sent it clattering to the ground. It snapped under the stamp of Caja's bare foot with a flash of crackling energy.
Balerath hissed exasperatedly, "How many of you people do I have to kill? How many?!"
Caja licked her lips. Salty, "Oh you only had to kill one. You were done for right then."
Caja lifted Balerath by the collar of his ridiculous robe, his reedy legs kicking at her shins. He pointed a gnarled finger at the headless assassin that lay nearby.
"Her! It was her who killed the other one! Not me!"
Caja gave a cursory glance to the fallen fighter, before smiling at the wizard.
"Then my work here is just about done."
There was terror in Balerath's eyes as Caja pulled him close in an embrace of death.
===
Caja stood in the entrance to the old cave. The wind kicked up dust about her naked body. It bothered her not.
She looked into the west, where the sun was bidding a deep red farewell to the day. She whispered a quiet farewell to Jacca the flame. They had agreed to await one another, bloody and battling, at the gates of the Abyss. She wiped blood from her face with the back of her hand. Wizard blood, like the old days. Perhaps they were coming back, the days when the ice would need to flow in her veins again. It would be a long walk home.
===
Jacca had the body of a warrior.
He was bronzed from years under the sun. Hiking in the mountains, working in the fields. He had the corded muscular arms of a fighter, who swung the blade of his great-sword with practiced precision. He had the scars of a life in soldiering, and the hard, dark brow of a million drunken brawls.
Jacca had the body of warrior, and Jacca was dying.
Stabbed in the back, of all things. By a common bodyguard. To think, he'd felled giants. Jacca gave a curse and tried once more to reach for the leather wrapped hilt of his great-sword, but it remained a hairs breadth out of reach, his huge calloused fingers clutching at nothing but dust.
Balerath loomed over him. The old wizard sneered as he nudged at the fallen warrior with a pointed toe slipper.
"All this muscle, and where does it get you, eh? Such a waste." He muttered, before giving a sharp kick to the side of his fallen enemy.
"Any last words?" He asked grimly, gesturing his open hand at Jacca in a strangely limp-wristed yet clearly threatening gesture.
The warrior gave a chuckle through his bloody teeth as he looked up at Balerath, the old man's curly hair seeming a wispy coronet in the temple light.
"Tell my wife I shall see her at the gates."
Balerath tutted away the curious sentiment with a toss of his head, and raised his hand to the guard who lurked at his side.
Jacca had no fear in his eyes as his assassin moved in for the killing blow.
===
The child's feet sent dirt flying in his wake as he darted through the stone buildings on either side of the street. He flew up the steps to the simple house at the end of the row. A plain affair, hammered together by steady hands, and without stopping to knock, he thrust open the door and called out.
"Miss Caja! Miss Caja!" His shrill voice exploded. He sprang down into the low hearth, where a pot hung over cold white coals. A heavy hand fell on the boy's small shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Caja looked down at him, her brown eyes wide. Her bushy black hair was tied back with a simple string of cord, and her brow was damp with sweat. In one hand she held a hammer. Standing, she was entirely twice the boy's height, and loomed over him, her broad figure making the rest of the room look a little smaller.
"Please, Irri, if you need something, just knock nicely. Don't scream your head off in my house and scare my chickens." Caja's voice was calm, commanding. She gave a reassuring smile, the big scar across her cheek used to frighten the children around the village until they got to know her.
Irri didn't return the smile, responding only by rushing to press his face into her heavy leather shift and bawling.
Caja placed a hand on the boy's head, and remained quiet. When the boy stopped in his heaving enough to open his mouth to speak, Caja shushed him, and whispered.
"It's okay little one... I know."
Caja knew Irri would spend all day waiting by the village gates to watch Jacca return with some giant dead thing tossed over his shoulder ready for the spit, and would trail him all the way back asking questions about old adventures, old battles. There's only one reason Irri would come to her in tears.
There was a gap on the wall where Jacca's best blade normally hung, and Caja studied it solemnly.
"You idiot, Jacca." She said, quiet as a ghost.
Kneeling, she rubbed at Irri's cheeks.
"You know what warriors do? They go to the great Abyss beyond, with fire in their hearts, and where they battle demons in grand victories beside their glorious ancestors. So don't cry."
Caja rose, and went over to the other side of the room, the place where her best sword was still hanging.
Irri rubbed his snotty nose with his hand and spoke through sobs.
"They said...they said if anyone else comes up looking... looking for trouble they'll get the same."
"The ones from the old man with the beard? With the silly looking clothes on?"
Irri nodded, his eyes red from rubbing.
"I know the ones. They won't hurt anyone else. You go off home now. Tell your old man I shan't be around to shoe the horses this afternoon as planned."
===
Caja left town without a word to anyone. She stopped for water at the village well, her sword gripped in her hand, the worn leather of her work shift heavy under the sun. Her hair was hanging free, long black locks shading her brow. It was a walk that took her through the height of the afternoon. First through the fields that bordered the village, then through the fields that carried on green and lustrous for miles, to the moors that overlooked the valleys below. By the time Caja arrived at the the mountain pass, the sun had long begun its descent into the west.
The old markers that once directed travelers to the monastery had been broken and defaced in the decades since the peaceful place had been abandoned. Balerath had moved in some time later, filling the locals with unease and lining the pockets of cheap mercenary bodyguards.
Jacca just couldn't leave an old wizard alone, Caja should have known that. If there was a fight to be found, her Jacca would get himself in it. She remembered the time he staggered back home with his head bound in bloody bandages, having fought a Dwarf to a standstill after accidentally insulting the Dwarf's sister. Can't take those boys anywhere.
As she trod the broken steps leading upwards, she tested the weight of the sword at her side. A plain longsword, straight and sharp as a blade of grass. She'd hammered many in her time, broken twice that number, probably.
As she came to the front of the old temple. She found herself stared down by two men flanking the open gates. The pair looked awkwardly like opposites of one another. The first being a man of bulging muscle and bald head, the second, a wiry little man with a prodigious beard.
The guardsmen looked to each other with a confused exchange, sizing up the warrior before them. Caja approached calmly, the blade at her side in silent threat. Her bare feet padding panther-like on hot stone.
The bald one gave a curt not to his bearded companion.
"Old man said there'd be more of 'em. Always is. Bloody barbarians. Like flies."
The bearded one laughed at his companion, and unlatched a heavy axe from it's place on his belt, he stepped towards Caja confidently.
"Since I'm the gentlemanly type, I'll give you a chance. Old Balerath says I gotta do you in if any more of you people turn up around here looking for 'im. But it'd be a shame to nick off that pretty head, so how about you call it a day and turn around eh? No 'arm done."
Caja looked at him, her big brown eyes took the measure of him in a few seconds. His cheap leather armor, his over-heavy weapon. The way he stood with all his weight on his right leg. She raised her blade to point at him.
"You'll find a grave soon as you like should you not let me through, worm. I will give you one chance. Step aside or I assure you, harm will be done."
The bearded guard turned to his friend and gave a great shrug.
"It's always the pretty ones that are crazy, always."
Caja stood motionless, her sword extended, eyes narrowed. There was a chill in her gaze that sent a shiver down the man's spine.
The guard swung his axe for Caja, aiming for her breast.
Caja moved fast, hopping aside and out of his reach, the head of his axe swinging wide and taking his weight with it.
Caja tried to pivot, but the leather of her shift tugged at shoulder and hip awkwardly. She growled in frustration. Instead she stepped in close, the ball of her foot coming down full force on the instep of his left foot. Cheap boots crumpled, and the man howled.
The guard tried to raise his arm to have another go at her, but something in his chest was cold, and it seemed to take the strength out of him.
Caja's blade slipped deep into his heart as it stopped beating, and she slid him off and to the ground. She swung her blade free of blood in a quick flicking motion, and leveled the blade at the bald man who stood staring at her.
He stared down at his fallen companion with confusion and shock.
"Fuckin' hell." He coughed out, fighting to pull up his mace in time as Caja came forward like a bull.
The big man got his mace loose in time to block Caja's huge overhead swing, the weight of it knocking him back a few steps. He fought to retain his footing as she came at him again, her blade swinging. The warrior's woman's assault came too fast to get an opening, and he let out a gasp of shock.
Caja twisted into another swing, bringing her blade around at head height in a decapitating swing. The rough leather of her shift was tight about her chest, and it tugged uncomfortably as she moved. The heavy garment slowed her just enough to give the guard the advantage, as he stepped his big form outside the reach of the swipe, and came at her with his spiked mace. The head of the weapon missed braining Caja by an inch, ducking aside with a roar of rage.
The guardsman stepped back, carefully balancing his mace in his hands, eyeing the warrior that opposed him.
Suddenly, Caja grabbed at the buckle on her shoulder and tugged, tearing it open. She continued to unlatch and pull at the heavy garment, until it broke open and came loose, falling about her feet. Without the heavy leather shift made to protect her from the heat of the forge, Caja wore not a stitch. Standing naked in the shadow of the mountain above, Caja stretched to her full height. She felt the sudden rush of cool air against her skin, raising gooseflesh. The blood and fury of the old days were rushing back to her, the memories of leaping from boat to boat in the savage harbours of the barbarian coast, when the only garments that wouldn't soak through and weigh her down were none at all. The heavy blade in her hand was all she needed. She smiled the smile of a wolf mother in her den.
The guardsman stared, jaw slack, at the naked woman before him.
Stripped of all, Caja had the ruddy burnished skin of a worker. She had the soft curves of a woman. The hard edges of a leader. The lips of a wife. The eyes of a hunter. She had the heavy tits of a mother. She had the scars of an old soldier.
It was the body of a warrior.
The guard stuttered,
"What are you doin'? Are you mad?"
Caja licked her lips, her body slowly lowering into a fighting stance.
"I am Caja the frost, little man. Prepare yourself."
He hadn't the time. Without the restrictions of her shift, Caja moved like lightening, darting forward and putting the curve of her entire body behind the swing of her blade. Her hair swooped behind her, a wave of black through the air, too fast. The heavy head of the guards mace came up short, the steel of her blade cutting through the curve of his shoulder pad and deep into his collar.
The guard gave a gurgling attempt to muster his weapon up, but Caja crushed his fist in her own, pulling it tight to her and tugging his whole body forward. Her forehead met his nose with a wet crack and dropped him to the ground in a heap.
Caja stepped over his fallen form, the yawning mouth of the temple before her. The she wolf could smell her prey.
===
Down the long hallway Caja strode, the cold stone of the floors chill on her bare feet. It had been long seasons since she'd felt her heart beat like this. It reminded her of when she met Jacca. She'd broken his collarbone and his left arm in two places, and he had broken her nose and cracked the pommel of her best sword before they decided to call it a draw and get to know one another. Like fire and ice they were. He with the heat in his blood, the flames of conflict, she with ice in her veins, cold and cruel in battle.
Balerath was stooped over a low table, mulling over a great tome of some no doubt nefarious knowledge, when Caja kicked open the temple door, sending it crashing into the room. He half turned at her entrance, then turned again fully, shock in his eyes as he gazed her over.
"What is this?" Balerath's face twisted in shock and confusion. He waved a gloved hand madly at a guard snoozing with her feet up across the room.
"Is this what I pay you for? A second intrusion in one day?" The wizard snapped.
The girl found her feet lightly, her body covered in the snugly fitting black cloth of an assassin. Deft little fingers played with the hilt of a scimitar hanging from her hip.
"You savage ones are bold ain't you? Coming in here making a racket." She said as she approached.
Balerath stepped backwards from the battle floor, his eyes snapping to a tall black staff standing across the room.
"Don't chat with her, kill her!" He barked. The assassin gave a shrug.
"What are you worried about? You scared of a noisy barbarian with her undercoat out?" The girl gestured at Caja's body. "When's the last time you got to see a naked bird anyway you old shriveled up..."
She nearly didn't dodge the chair that came flying at her head. Darting aside, it sailed across the room and smashed against the stone wall. Caja flung another seat under arm at her to sidestep, the pantherlike steps of the naked woman taking her into melee range with the assassin in moments.
Both women were fast, the blade drawn and darting in the assassins hand in time to curve away the first heavy blow from Caja's sword. The girl could see the bulge of Caja's muscle, and knew that she couldn't trade blows without breaking her wrist, so opted for playing dirty.
Rolling backwards into a neat crouch, the assassin produced a handful of metal shavings from her belt, tossing them up in Caja's face. The warrior stepped back, blinking furiously, a low roar beginning in her throat.
The assassin was up and leaping in the blink of an eye, the razor edge of her curved blade coming down in a huge swipe, aimed to split the nude warrior down the middle. Even blind, Caja was faster. Moving beyond conscious thought, her body twisted sideways and leaned back, the blade slicing down a whisper away from her flesh. Close enough to shear hair from her crotch, the blade passed by to clang into the ground where her feet had been a split second before.
Dropping the curved blade to the ground, the Assassin stepped in with a vicious little dagger, curved upward for sticking into guts. The assassin almost pierced Caja's stomach as she thrust out, the serrated tip slicing the flesh below Caja's breasts. Caja snarled into the girls face, jerking an arm out to catch the assassin in the teeth with her elbow. She spit blood into Caja's face, and twisted nimbly to strike again with the awful little blade. Turning it with the hilt of her sword, Caja shoved her elbow inside the girl's reach, and jerked it up, pulling up the assassin's shoulder and with it, opening her side. Caja's knee came up like a battering ram, cracking ribs and crushing lungs.
The girl's eyes bulged, and she was gasping for breath as Caja stepped back to kick her in the gut full force, bending her over double. Caja brought her sword overarm to slice off the brunette's head in a clean arc.
The assassin's head was still bouncing as Balerath tried frantically to ready his staff. A twist here, a somatic whisper there, the crackling staff was hard on his arthritic old hands. He tried to ready the thing, his face twisted into a sneer, as Caja slapped him across the mouth with the back of her closed fist, her bloody knuckles crunching again his jawbone. An arm shot out to the staff, and pulling it from old hands, sent it clattering to the ground. It snapped under the stamp of Caja's bare foot with a flash of crackling energy.
Balerath hissed exasperatedly, "How many of you people do I have to kill? How many?!"
Caja licked her lips. Salty, "Oh you only had to kill one. You were done for right then."
Caja lifted Balerath by the collar of his ridiculous robe, his reedy legs kicking at her shins. He pointed a gnarled finger at the headless assassin that lay nearby.
"Her! It was her who killed the other one! Not me!"
Caja gave a cursory glance to the fallen fighter, before smiling at the wizard.
"Then my work here is just about done."
There was terror in Balerath's eyes as Caja pulled him close in an embrace of death.
===
She looked into the west, where the sun was bidding a deep red farewell to the day. She whispered a quiet farewell to Jacca the flame. They had agreed to await one another, bloody and battling, at the gates of the Abyss. She wiped blood from her face with the back of her hand. Wizard blood, like the old days. Perhaps they were coming back, the days when the ice would need to flow in her veins again. It would be a long walk home.
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