He swung the curved sword in his hand without interest. Its bloodstained blade gleamed coldly. The victims' blood had long since dried, with no fresh blood to wet it again.
Like its owner, it hung before the saddle, dull and dejected. They had meant to have some fun, but somehow those two women had managed to flee so quickly...
It was almost as though they had burrowed into the ground. The riders kept finding footprints and following them, yet never caught sight of the women themselves. A hunt with no sign of results could easily wear away a man's interest.
The cavalrymen, so eager a short while ago and driven by a fierce thirst for blood, were now growing bored. Their searches were no longer as thorough.
The warhorse snorted listlessly and slowly trampled the scattered weeds among the trees. These horses were fed on grain and had long since lost any taste for such weeds. Only lush pastures could interest them. This sort of forest was not a place they liked.
Impatience showed on the Hols cavalryman's face. He was beginning to lose the desire to go on. A pale light had already appeared in the sky. Dawn was near, and he still had nothing to show for his efforts.
Instead of having a good time, he had exhausted himself for an entire night. He had already picked out a rather pretty village girl and was about to enjoy her, but an urgent order to assemble had forced him to waste her by cutting her down...
Then he remembered the large pile of coins those overenergetic cavalrymen had staked. He licked his lips and tightened his grip on the curved sword again.
He liked these entertaining games, especially when there was money to be made. The chances might be slim, but if he caught the two women first, he would win a large sum in one go. It would be enough to squander for a full six months.
He urged his sluggish warhorse forward again, weaving through the trees along any route the women might have taken. His sharp eyes searched the surroundings for signs. Unnaturally broken branches, disturbed grass, and uneven patches of fallen leaves all gave him information.
The horse moved briskly between the trees, its hoofbeats much softer on the thick layer of fallen leaves. His narrow, vicious eyes studied every patch of grass around him. If his prey lost their nerve and made the slightest sound, they would never escape his horse's pursuit.
Unfortunately, he found nothing.
Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a vast shadow out of the corner of his eye. It was a single, unbroken shape, apparently cast by some huge object in the moonlight. It looked like a very good hiding place...
A cold smile touched his lips. To keep the sound of his horse and mail from alerting anyone, he even took off his mail before swinging down from the saddle. Holding only his curved sword, he walked over... They were merely two village women, after all. He slowly parted the grass with the sharp blade.
The great tree trunk before him had long since been eaten hollow, leaving a wide cavity at its center. There could be no better hiding place... He was almost certain he was right. Growing excitement made his heart race as he marveled at his good luck.
With a vicious grin, he suddenly stepped forward and rushed into the hollow. There was only one opening. The women could not possibly escape, and he could enjoy his spoils however he pleased.
...
A white headscarf lay on the ground, the sort the women in those villages often wore. Apart from that, there was nothing at all...
Before he could react, a fairly powerful blow struck him from behind and forced him to the ground. The warmth of a soft body reached him through his clothes. But this was no tender embrace. It was a deadly fang...
The sharp short blade tore through his clothes without resistance and pierced his back, now unprotected by mail. It went all the way through his chest and into the wood beneath him.
With his heart pierced, the Hols man struggled only a few times before going completely still. Only the ornate hilt remained, growing from his back. Blood slowly spread through his clothes and soon formed a pool beneath him.
Pale-faced, Talina dropped to the ground beside him. Fresh, warm blood from his heart stained her fingers, giving off wave after wave of warm odor. It made her want to vomit. The smell seemed fouler and more bloody than anything else, provoking a deep physical revulsion.
Intense panic and fear made Talina's hands shake. She was a very good doctor, and her fingers had always been so steady. Now they trembled like those of someone having a stroke, shaking so hard they blurred.
The mother came in from outside with her child in her arms, her face full of fear. The two women had been hiding in the nearby grass, originally hoping only to evade his search. She had never expected the doctor to be so brave, attacking suddenly while the man was looking inside and killing the soldier outright.
The farm woman had slaughtered animals her husband brought home alive. But the dead man before her was different from any animal's corpse. Just looking at that heap of dead flesh made her whole body stiffen. Every part of her seemed beyond her control, and all she could do was stand there, stunned.
Talina took another couple of breaths, then grew calm again.
The girl reached out and grasped the short blade in the corpse. She slowly pulled its sharp edge free of the flesh and bone around it. Sticky blood kept gushing out, even splashing onto her cloth skirt.
She stood up and ran outside. Soon, amid the warhorse's uneasy neighs, she led the soldier's mount over by its reins. His well-made mail and other weapons hung from the saddle. The sight of that fine coat of mail made Talina feel even luckier...
If the man had not been so arrogant, if he had kept his mail on while searching for them, she would probably be a corpse by now.
She was not a real soldier, after all. Under such pressure, she could not have calmly driven her short blade into an unprotected part of his body.
"Wonderful! With this horse, we can reach the city in two days..."
Excitement appeared on the mother's face. A horse was much faster than they were, especially since neither of these two Hols women was particularly strong.
"No! We can't ride this horse..."
The mother stared at her in surprise. Talina's expression was firm.
"A horse makes far too much noise. It'll bring everyone nearby down on us. And neither of us can ride. We'd never be fast enough to get away from them..."
"Then what do we do?! ..."
Despair had spread across the mother's face, but Talina stood up and patted the horse's neck.
"We'll do what I told you earlier. Use it to lure them over..."
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