Thread: What is broken can be fixed. (Luana Blodwyn x Irlandais)

First came the drumming of hoof beats then came the boots and then the screams. Havoc was everywhere, blood was everywhere. It was not a battle, it was a slaughter. Barely armed farmers and tradesmen, hardly able to feed themselves let alone fight off the attackers. All because they swore fealty to the wrong lord. Many were brave, taking up pitchfork and scythe as bravely as any knight held a sword. Even more were cowards, fleeing at the sight of their attackers, pushing women and children out of the way or into the hooves of a galloping horse. The men were killed, it was quick but slow. Their attacks took their time, hacking the limbs from victims as they begged for mercy, but there was no mercy that day. Women were taken in their homes or on the streets, those unable to fight. One tried to help. Tried to herd screaming, frightened children away. Truly, terrified children were far harder to herd than cats. Some would not move, others moved too much. Enid had never been so frustrated. As she chased one child back to the group and managed to get the group to move a foot forward more children fled the group as fires sprung up on their homes. She was frustrated and sweating in her simple working dress of dark green. Come on, we have to go! She shouted, trying to hold her temper at bay which could be a fiery as the mane of red hair on her head. One child wouldn't move so she scooped him up and carried him the few feet to the group. It was hopeless, she wouldn't get them away into the woods. There's more here! she heard a man shout. Looking up her wide green eyes met with the man's, she read his intent as he charged her. She set the child down and ran back at him with a wild yell. It took him by surprise as she slammed her full weight of a whopping 120 lbs at five feet and two inches tall. Perhaps small but she was strongly built and buxom to boot. Taken by surprise the man was knocked to his back. In a wild struggle she took his sword and managed to bloody him, ramming the pointed end into his neck. Blood spurted, splashing her face. By her trade she was not unused to blood, but knowing she was the cause made her take a pause. It was took long. She didn't hear the horse or the man that came up behind. One moment she was straddling her victim, his lifeblood on her face and flowing from his neck. The very next all was dark. It was late afternoon when she woke. Her hands and feet were bound and she was slung across the front of a saddle like a sack of vegetables. She was across some man's legs. Sense bade her stay still and feign unconsciousness, but duty won out and she looked up for the children. Ah! The spitfire's awake! The man above her said with a loud chuckle. Where are the children? She demanded, trying to see through the dizzying haze of her vision. Oh some here and some there... he said with a dark chuckle. Most of them here in the slave train...some of them...well...parts of them are here and some are there. Enid saw red, you son of a bitch! She screamed and began squirming and fighting. The man just laughed and gave a push, knocking her off the horse face first. It was lucky she did not break her neck or even a tooth. Unable to move her arms of legs she landed in an uncomfortable heap. The man dismounted and cut the binds on her legs. If you're not going to be a good girl and ride calmly...you'll walk...fast. He took her hands and lashed them to the back of his saddle. She could only stand an arm length from his horse, arms raised up and unable to lower. The man clicked at his horse and they set off at a brisk trot, forcing Enid to make a running hop to keep up. Her head throbbed in the first minute. It was thirty minutes before her legs gave out and the man slowed his horse to allow her to walk slowly. Now will you be good? He questioned. Enid shot him a glare and the man shrugged, urging his horse to a slow trot. This went on until dusk. Enid was sweaty, her dress torn, bare feet bleeding, hair disheveled and dusty. Even as the man walked in ranks with his fellows she growled and hissed like a wild cat. Ah finally, somewhere to store this one, the man said wearily. Is the master of quills ready to take his tallies? He asked while others chuckled. Enid swore a string of obscenities as she was half dragged and half carried to where the rest of the villagers were. She was one of the few young women who still wore a full dress, despite the hem being shredded and rips up the side. Despite her bone deep weariness it took two men and a punch to the jaw to get her in chains with the rest of the captives. Still more obscenities strung from her lips. The captain walked into Rurik's tent and heaved a weary sigh. The shouting from the wild red head could be heard even there. Thirty four children, twenty six women and one wild cat, he said, digging a finger into his ear. If you go out to take count I'd steer clear of the red head...just as soon bite your fingers off.