Warrior
“D’ya even know what yer doin’ Cas?” Joseph’s voice, whispered low and grating in the dark.
“No, not really. But we have to do something.”
Casimir Aldair forced the girl down, clamping his hand over her mouth to stifle the screams boiling out of her body. Behind him, the open window – the window the pair had stolen through – let in a cool night breeze. The bed creaked beneath the girl as she struggled against rope bonds. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen.
“Check the parents.”
A moment’s silence, shuffling in the night.
“Still dead’r ‘en dead.”
“Keep checking on them – if they rise, we can’t let them take us by surprise.”
“Well fuckin’ Arien, mate, don’t be s’ casual ’bout it or anythin’.”
Casimir bent down to the girl beneath his hand. Her body was infinitely warm, ravaged by a fever running boiling hot. But this was no fever. In truth, Casimir had no idea what it was – possession, spell work, or just pure, good old insanity. It was hard to distinguish any one from any other.
The pair of heretical renegades had caught wind of strange happenings at this farmhouse – livestock, dead from disease, nightshade circling the estate, and then… nothing. For a long while, no word was sent out from the farmhouse, and nobody went to check on them. When Joseph and Casimir arrived, they found the girl circling the bodies of her parents, butcher knife in hand, muttering the same words over and over again: “The river spoke to me… The river spoke to me…” The girl flew at them in a rage when she noticed their presence, and it took both men to restrain her and tie her up. Night came quickly, then – nobody came knocking.
“Sarah, can you hear me? Can you understand me?”
Nothing, except the creaks of the bed as Sarah fought viciously to slip her bonds.
“Your parents are dead. Do you know that?”
“The river spoke to me… I am a warrior.”
“Who’s warrior?”
“A warrior… a warrior…”
“Cas, she ain’t makin’ a lick o’ sense. We tried pressin’ the Chalice t’her, feedin’ her all sorts of herbs, salt, pepper, oils, pressin’ metals – the whole bit, y’know? None of this bullshit the books mentioned ‘s workin’. Just put ‘er outta her misery, mate – ain’t no demon comin’ outta her.”
“You can’t know that… there has to be something. Some way…”
“The river spoke to me!” Urgent sounding, like it was very important that the world should know this.
“We’ll try again – bring the silver, we’ll start once more with that.”
CRACK.
“Cas, watch it!”
THUNK. Casimir saw stars in the darkness as something connected hard with the side of his face. THUNK THUNK. Twice more in swift succession, the girl was atop him, wailing at his face with a force and precision impossible for her little body.
“I AM A WARRIOR!”
SQUELCH! Metal through flesh, and the whirlwind of action was over. Warm liquid dripped onto Casimir’s face, and the body of the girl dropped softly onto his own.
“Damn it Joseph!” Casimir’s fingers sought out Sarah’s neck, feeling frantically for a pulse. Underneath his fingertips, all was smooth and still. “Damn it,” reiteration, in a weary breath.
“Lord bless y’, Warrior.” Joseph’s voice, grim in the night. The soft swoosh of metal on cloth accompanied the chirps of morning jays outside, as the Vandagan bodyguard cleaned the blood of Sarah from his sword.