The Day of Forever - Part 2

When she had let all her clothes fall back down into the well, she grabbed the leather-pack tied tightly to her back. Using her free hand, she dragged the short sword fastened to it loose. First she cut the ropes tying the bag to her back, then she stabbed the top of the bag and ripped it open. It was just like a water-skin, sewed tightly to keep water in – or in this case, out. The single robe on the inside was just as dry as when it had been put in there. She pulled the robe over her head, and took out two soft boots – not made to be used in rough terrain, but to cover sounds. She discarded the empty bag, and climbed out of the well. Putting the hatch back in place behind her, before she pulled on the soft shoes and tied them tightly.

It was unusual to wear such a loose-fitting robe and nothing under it. It was hardly practical – which was not something she expected of the people who had hired her. They would only have given her practical things. Thinking for a few moments, she used the short sword to cut off the sleeves of the robe. Then she tied one of the sleeves around her hip, and the other around her chest – one to keep the robes from going too far up should she have to jump or roll, and the other to keep things in place, should she have to run.

She quickly put the short sword back in the sheath, and put the sheath behind her makeshift belt, lodging it tightly. Then, she left the kitchens. The castle was mostly dark, but from time to time she could hear voices talking, and see fluttering lights from a torch moving down the corridors. They never got around the corner in time to see her dart by, though. She quickly moved through hallways long ago put to memory, but halfway to her target, a nagging feeling started creeping over her. Someone was following her.

She had been in the profession for long enough to realize, that one trusted ones instincts utterly and completely. If your eyes told you no one was there, but your instincts told you that someone was trailing you, that meant someone was trailing you.

She had the plan for the whole castle memorized, so she knew the best way to avoid them. She darted down a side passage, and sure enough, the nagging feeling of being followed stayed. But she was no longer heading towards the target, and she knew where she was going. This would indicate that she was a resident or worker in the castle – rather than an infiltrator. After a few corridors when she was still being followed, she went around a corner, and stopped. Squeezing herself tightly into the wall, she waited.

For a few long moments, she waited in absolute silence – even holding her breath. Then, she abruptly rolled forward. She didn’t know quite why, just that an overwhelming urge had suddenly appeared, and before she could think, she had done.

Getting to her feet, she quickly realized how smart it had been. A dagger lay discarded on the ground, broken at the middle. A robed person, cloaked, hooded and covered up to the point where she could not even recognize the gender, had already produced another weapon. She drew her short sword and backed into the corridor.

The person followed with careful steps, weary of an attack – but not in the way she had expected. She got the feeling that the opponent wasn’t being weary out of fright, but out of expectation. As if he knew, that her plan had been to leap into an attack as soon as he took an unprepared step. She quickly discarded the plan, and decided it would be better to get away. This wasn’t an opponent you stayed and fought. She half turned around, and was shocked to find the retreat blocked, by yet another person obscured by robes. She had few choices now. To either attack the first who had arrived, or attack the one that blocked the retreat. But the one blocking the retreat was bigger and more powerful than the first person that had arrived. She liked the odds better going back the way she had come. She charged forward, abruptly. Even though she had a mere moment ago been turning to escape, the opponent was completely ready for her.

Her short sword was struck aside by the opponent’s oversized dagger. She quickly rolled down under her opponents deflecting strike, coming to a crouch just at his back, and quickly sent the sword in a backwards stab. She felt her sword strike metal before she heard it, and quickly whipped her head around. The opponent had halfway turned to face her, and while doing it, swinging his arm – which she now realized was covered by a heavy metal plate – to meet the sword. Before she could respond to anything a devastating pain appeared in her abdomen. It was such a shock to her that she hardly realized that it was also present at the opposite point in her back. Clutching towards the pain she found nothing but something wet and sticky. Looking down at her hands they were red. But there was nothing sticking out from her abdomen. She turned around and looked at her back, and barely found a hilt seeming to float in the air behind her back. Certainly a mortal blow, she realized.

“Mercy.” She said. It was the first time she had spoken since before the river, and she found that the near drowning had left her voice hoarse and rough. It came out crooked, and only partly because of the pain. She fell down on the floor, and turned around to face the roof. These people should know what she meant. Not the mercy to keep her life, but the mercy for the quick ending of a painful death. “I could have handled her.” A woman’s voice proclaimed, she looked at the origin at it, and found the person she had just fought – still holding her oversized dagger. A reply came, but she couldn’t hear it, it was too blurred. As if the person was speaking through a heavy stone wall. A wind blew across her, and suddenly the sun was shining in her face. She looked down over her chest, and at the bottom of the hill, she saw a pretty farmstead, a sight she had wanted for so long. Her mother and father were walking towards her slowly, serenely and smiling. She got up, and walked towards them. She was home once more…