[b]Chapter 33: A lion's roar[/b]

The hooves thundered against the road as Leofric's destrier carried the king onwards. Snow had began to fall again, further dissipating what verdant scenery remained. Soon naught but cold and snow would dominate the land as winter arrived in ernest. Leofric had departed from his encampment a day ago. He had gone alone, much to the extreme dismay of his remaining knights and officers, but this is something he had insisted to do alone. In truth, it was actually safer that way. With his encampment left in competent hands he had then left, making his way to Cliffport. The journey would take at least two to three days on horseback but Leofric intended to reach the harbour town in less time, even if it meant spurring his destrier to the brink of unhealthy exhaustion. He had left lightly armoured, bearing dark-grey padded cloth and auburn leathers with a simple black and hooded cloak draping down from his back and shoulders. The only thing that could give him away as something else other than a mere traveler or sellsword was his delicate sword, but the blessed weapon was both sheathed and hidden behind the cloak.

Dusk had settled and the king was in the process of contemplating whether he should find shelter and camp for a couple of hours, more so to allow his quadrupedal companion to rest up a bit. Electing that it was for the better, his course of action was abruptly interrupted by something he saw a few miles away. Smoke rose to the sky behind a large cluster of trees. Leofric looked around him - he was out in the middle of nowhere between forests and fields, but surely someone lived in such remote places. Huntsmen, most likely. But the smoke he saw was not slim enough to come from a chimney, but rather a fire, a large one. Sighing irritably Leofric reaffirmed his grip around the reins and urged his destrier with haste towards the direction of the rising smoke column. He quickly closed the distance between himself and the apparent fire, thundering across a field with mild slopes and frozen earth.


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Nearing the trees Leofric held in the reins. A figure had exited the woods, running straight for him. Coming closer, Leofric saw that the figure was that of a woman, with a fiery mane flowing behind her. She appeared to be dressed in the simple clothing one might expect from commoners and Leofric deducted that the smoke he saw did indeed come from a fire, and that it was this woman's home that had caught it. She must have seen the incognito monarch approaching and rushed to ask him for help. Exhaling, Leofric urged his destrier on to a trot to meet the woman. But only shortly after she had left the trees more people exited them, a group of five, running after the woman frantically like a battue. Leofric saw that the group behind the woman held tools or weapons, and one held a torch. The reality of the actual situation dawned on the king quickly and he galloped onwards to meet the woman before the group behind her caught up.

 [i]"Help! Please!"[/i] the woman cried out as Leofric approached her. Her feet gave away and she fell heavily to the ground as Leofric was upon her. She was panting madly and sought to crawl away as if a pack of hellhounds were upon her heels. The truth wasn't too far off.

 [i]"Madame?"[/i] the king hollered, holding in the reins again. [i]"What is happening?"[/i]
 [i]"They're-- after me! Please, help! They will kill me!"[/i] she replied beneath her breath, barely able to muster the words.

Looking up, Leofric saw that the group that had chased her had almost caught up. They had slowed down to a walk as they saw the mounted man stand above their hunt. Now Leofric could better see the group and what they were armed with. The one holding a torch was a middle-aged female, and in other other hand she held a knife. The other four were men of varying ages, three of them were armed with woodcutting axes and rusted swords, the fourth man held a hunting now. They stopped a distance away from Leofric and the redheaded female.

 [i]"Fair evenin', good man."[/i] one of the men said. [i]"Looks like yous stumbled 'pon our little prey here. Mighty kind o' you to stop her for us."[/i]
 [i]"Prey? What is the meaning of this?"[/i] Leofric inquired with a frown.
 [i]"Well, you see..."[/i] the same man from the group replied. [i]"...that harlot sprawled out 'fore you is a witch, aye. Practising 'er evil powers, castin' curses upon us good, honest folk."[/i] the man said with fervent conviction. [i]"We're here to rid the land o' her and her magic. Aren't we?"[/i] he turned to the rest of the group. They all nodded grimly.

Leofric frowned deeper. Unlike the woman on the ground below him, the group were dressed in ragged leathers and clothes. They were all unkempt and looked maladjusted, rather than the good, honest folk they claimed to be.

 [i]"No."[/i] the king consicely answered. [i]"You will not lay your hands on her. Turn around and leave."[/i]

The group's leader frowned and tightened his grip around an axe he was holding. [i]"Fuck do you mean no? You a witch lover? She's cast a spell 'pon you already?"[/i]
 [i]"Leave."[/i] Leofric reiterated, subtly moving his right hand towards the grip of his sword.
 [i]"She's got 'im in her clutches!"[/i] the man shouted to his companions. [i]"We'll just have to kill both o' you then. All the same to me."[/i] the leader grinned to Leofric and raised his axe.

Leofric drew his sword with a rasping sound. The blade shimmered prominently with its golden white flames against the encroaching darkness of the evening. The armed group gaped at the king, but their leader swiftly recovered with renewed contempt.
 [i]"Fuck, 'e is a witch too! Get 'im first!"[/i]

With a cry of anger the group threw himselves forward at Leofric and the woman. The fiery haired female desperately crawled backwards as Leofric urged his destrier into a full-on gallop. The brigands, which they very well appeared to be, scattered to the left and right to prevent being run over by the muscular beast and its rider. The female who held the torch and knife were the slowest of the five, and she looked up in horror as Leofric swung his sword from ontop the saddle. The cut almost beheaded the female and she was dead even before she hit the ground in a bloody heap.

 [i]"Fuckin' Margret!"[/i] the leader cried out and snarled. He pointed at the others and then at Leofric. [i]"Kill 'im already!"[/i]

The brigands looked from their leader to Leofric and rushed towards the king from all sides while the lead brigand turned around to face the woman they were initially hunting. She scrambled up to her feet and ran, with the brigand after her. Leofric had acted before the cutthroats and was already circling around them. He approached them anew, this time turning his attention to a younger man who held in the hunting bow. He young man, more or less a mere boy, widened his eyes in fear and shock as the rider with a flaming sword rapidly closed in on him. Struggling to draw and nock and arrow, the bowman cursed and looked up just in time to have his head near split in two by an overhead swing from the king's blessed weapon.

Leofric heard the others shout something but he was already galloping at full pace towards the brigands' leader. He was pursuing the commoner woman across the field and they had veered off to the left. The woman was surprisingly quick on her feet and the brigand struggled to keep up. As the sound of approaching hooves reached his ears he nervously glanced over his shoulder as he ran. He saw a horse and very little else before he felt something tremendously heavy hit him like a sledgehammer, and he was sent flying to the side. 

Leofric pulled in the reins and steered his horse aside after he had collided into the brigand. He looked around for the red-haired woman but could not see her. Suddenly his horse neighed in agony and almost reared up, Leofric had to struggle to keep it under control when he noticed the arrow shaft sticking out from its neck. Another arrow hit, this one dug deep into the destrier's flank. With another terrified neigh the beast toppled aside, bringing Leofric with it. Both the rider and horse crashed down heavily against the frozen earth and Leofric cried out briefly, his left leg stuck beneath the weight of his horse. Luckily he had managed to maintain his grip of the sword for he had to raise it above him as a large two-handed woodcutting axe suddenly swung down for his skull. Leofric held the swordgrip with his right hand and pressed his left against the steel for leverage, its flames doing no harm upon his palm. With a quick motion he moved his sword to the left, causing the axe-head to slide down towards the crossguard. Leofric then twisted his sword around so the axe-head was locked between the crossguard and blade and promptly disarmed the axe from its wielder. The king stared up at the brigand leader who was now unarmed, standing over the gravely injured horse. The man snarled and sought to throw himself down at the monarch, but Leofric had managed to free his left foot from its stirrup and kicked a boot into the brigand's chest, causing him to topple aside with a painful groan, not so much from the kick itself, but from previously being barged into by the king's powerful destrier.

Leofric huffed a breath and managed to just pull his right leg free from underneath the horse. He rose up to his feet, his leg aching. Next to him lay the brigand leader who did not seem particularly eager to rise up for the time being. Leforic glanced around for the other assailants and saw one of them approaching from the direction they initially clashed at. A suddenly pain in his right leg caused the king to fall down to it. An arrow had pierced through it near the thigh. Leofric glanced up to see where the shot had came from but was knocked over to his back as another arrow lodged itself into his left chest just beneath the collarbone. He groaned painfully and grit his teeth. He heard rushing footsteps and looked up, noticing one of the bandits rapidly approaching with a rusted sword in hand. He plunged down his weapon against Leofric but the strike was expertly parried away by the king. Leofric immediately retaliated, swinging out low against the man's left ankle and nearly severed the leg from the foot. The brigand cried out in immense pain and fell backwards, giving Leofric enough to struggle up to his feet, though he nearly fell over again as the arrow in his leg reminded him through a painful surge.

 [i]"Whoreson!"[/i] a voice shouted and Leofric glanced towards it. It was the shooter, as evident by the hunting bow he held in his left hand. However Leofric noted that he had no more arrows, for in the right hand the bandit now gripped a simple arming sword. The bandit lashed wildly against Leofric with untrained inaccuracy, attacks that were easily parried time and again by the injured monarch as steel upon steel filled the air around them. Leofric reposted, easily disarming the bandit before running him through the chest with the blessed sword. The man's eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth, yet no sound parted his lips. Leofric twisted the sword around and then retracted it. The bandit fell over, his life expended.

A groan reached Leofric's ears and he turned around, watching the bandit leader struggle up to his feet with a hand pressed against his chest. Judging by his pained expression he must've broken a rib or two from the horse's collision and only just now realised it. The man glanced around, noticing each of his fallen companions in their bloody display and raised a hand to Leofric in what could only be interpreted as surrender.

 [i]"Please..."[/i] the leader began, yet his words were cut off abruptly in his throat as his held out hand suddenly severed from the arm. He screamed out in agony and shock but that scream was also cut short as Leofric struck the man down with a strike that reached from hip to shoulder. Leofric thought he could notice the man's guts spill out just before he collapsed with his face first against the earth. The king then glanced around again in search for the woman he had saved, yet saw no sign of her. Instead, he turned back to his fallen destrier yet failed to walk to it, his right leg giving away beneath him, and the arrow in his chest took its toll.

With an exasperated exhale Leofric collapsed amongst the bloodied remains of the bandits.