Chapter 11

“What in God’s name happened here?” Iagan burst out when he saw a woman crying over a body and five dead guards.

“Sorry,” Iagan added when he saw Thomas glaring at him for his remark in the Lord’s name.

“I don’t know,” Jarred shook his head, “Where’s Isadora?” He asked, looking around for the person who was on guard and obviously killed all these people.

“Obviously she fled,” Dawn spoke up, crouching by the bodies of the guards, inspecting something, “like a coward,”

“Watch your tongue,” Drystan growled at her, his eyes sharp and venomous as he heard her comment, “Isadora wouldn’t leave for no reason.”

Everyone fell silent as they heard him defend her before Dermot spoke up, “Who’s the boy? Was he caught in the crossfire?”

Drystan turned away from Dawn, giving her one last look, and nodded to Thomas who stepped forward and comforted the grieving woman so they could get to the body.

“Single wound from a sword,” Drystan murmured.

“Entered in the lower right abdomen and exit at the top left shoulder,” Iagan whistled at the extent of the wound.

Drystan’s mind was working overload as he ran the scene through his head but every time he came up with the same awful conclusion that Izzie had killed the young boy.

But where was she now? Drystan stood and examined the area.

If Izzie had killed him and it pushed her over the edge then he knew she wouldn’t come to them; she’d been on her own for such a long time that she wasn’t about to trust them after a few days.

His eyes scanned the forest in the distance and knew, somehow, that she had gone inside.

He had to go after her.

* * *

Izzie found a secluded spot behind a bush near to the camp and checked it out.

The large clearing was filled to the brim with tents, camp fires lit up the area in the darkness and the scent of horses filled her nostrils.

Twenty campfires. Ten or so men per a campfire.

Izzie did the maths in her head and knew instantly that it wasn’t good . . . for them.

The mood that she was in now nothing would stand between her and her vengeance.

Once night time had settled fully she left her little spot and crept towards the first soldier’s tent on the outskirts and slipped inside.

As she expected it was empty but it wasn’t long before a soldier returned with a woman in tow that was scratching his arms and face, trying to get away.

“Get in there, you wench!” The man growled and threw the village woman through the flaps.

She fell to the floor by Izzie’s feet and screamed anew when she saw her stood there, sword at the ready.

“You’ll be screaming for me in a-” The man started as he walked inside, undoing his belt when he saw her and froze.

“Scream for me,” Izzie growled at him as he gripped the back of his head and sliced her sword across his throat, cutting through his larynx so he couldn’t shout for help.

The woman was screeching now so Izzie dropped the man’s body and knelt beside the girl, pressing her hand over her mouth.

“You didn’t see anything,” Izzie told her, “You don’t know anything. You’re going to run home and stay there. Okay?” Izzie asked.

The woman nodded her head, eyes wide as she stared at her.

“Head for the forest and go straight on, you’ll find a village and the people there will help you,” Izzie informed her before she pushed her out of the tent and watched her until she disappeared into the forest.

Heading back into the tent she stripped the man’s army leather and cloak off and pulled it over the top of her own shirt.

Snatching the metal helmet from the floor she wound her hair up inside it and sheathed her sword.

Now, she looked just like another foot soldier and could walk about camp with ease.

Walking between the tents she made her way towards the larger, more extravagant tent near the front where Colt, the army’s leader who had ordered the attack on her village and turned her into this, was resting.

Soldiers were on guard outside his tent so she snuck around the back where she could hear muted laughter and girls giggling.

She hated to interrupt him but she’d been waiting years for this and she couldn’t bear to wait another second.

Unsheathing her sword she slashed a large ‘x’ in the thick material and stepped through, aiming her sword towards the bed where three naked women were covered in multiple fur covers . . . but no Colt.

Izzie frowned as she stared at the girls, she had heard a man’s voice, she was sure Colt was in here when she heard the sound of a boot scuffing on the floor behind her.

Spinning around she raised her sword above her head and blocked Colt’s attack.

She barely saw his face as they sparred; she sliced her sword through the air but she wasn’t quick enough to block Colt’s next attack and she was sent sprawling on the floor, the tip of his sword pressing against her throat.

Izzie was breathing hard; her anger had gotten the better of her.

Or that’s what she told herself; she’d never been beaten before but yet Colt had thrown her to the ground within seconds. It hurt her pride.

“What is your name, soldier? Tell me, man!” Colt glared down at her and she realised that she was still wearing the helmet; he didn’t know that ‘he’ was in fact a ‘she’.

Izzie glared up at him; he was standing tall above her, completely naked with an exquisite body of multiple, rippling muscles that were covered in sweat. Probably from his rigorous activities with the girls that were all silent in the background now that the fighting had stopped.

He had straight jet black hair that fell in front of his face and despite him being almost fifteen years her senior he was in very good shape and looked almost like a god with his olive coloured skin it was only his eyes that revealed him for the monster he was.

“Your name!?” He screamed again, “What are you doing in my tent, soldier?”

“I am not your soldier!” Izzie shouted at him as she removed her helmet and let her hair fall out of its bun and down around her shoulders.

Colt looked surprised at first before he narrowed his eyes at her, covering his emotions, “What is your name?” he asked again, more intrigued than anything, “What do you want with me that such a beauty would dress like a man?”

Izzie went to stand but he kept her there, “I like you beneath me,” he grinned at her.

Her hatred for this man was almost boiling over her patience level and she wanted to stick that sword up his-

“-Tell me, wench!”

“My name is Isadora. Isadora of Thistle,” She called out her name in a calm voice, “Ten years ago you attacked my village with your band of thieves and murderers,”

Colt stared at her with even more fascination and it was annoying Izzie and being held at his mercy wasn’t helping either.

“And you want revenge?” He laughed, “How quaint,”

Izzie’s jaw clenched together as she watched him throw his head back and laugh.

She took the opportunity and raised her sword, clashing it against his she knocked his sword out of his hand and she jumped to her feet.

Grabbing his sword from the floor she kicked him squarely in the chest before he realised what happened and he landed on the bed, amongst his many girls.

The devil himself smiled at her, “I see you’ve acquired some skills to kill me with,”

“I’ve trained ten years for this moment,”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he growled, “GUARDS!” he screamed and three heavily burdened soldiers ran inside, spears in hand, ready to run her through.

Izzie sent a look at Colt before she back flipped over the top of the guards and cut the arrow heads off the top of their spears in mid-air.

Landing behind them she kicked the last man in the back and he went flying forward, sending the others down with him.

She ran the first guard through the back before he got back to his feet. She got the second one on his knees with a slash of her sword across his throat, her anger almost making her decapitate him completely but the third was free before she reached him.

With only a long stick to defend himself it wasn’t long before she had him from behind and had a sword on either side of his neck, overlapping.

With a guttural cry she squeezed the swords together and the guard’s head came off with one slice; his blood splattering her face before she turned back to Colt.

“Now,” Izzie ran the back of her hand across her mouth where she could feel the man’s blood, “Your turn,”

Colt got to his feet and wrapped a blanket around his waist, looking at her for what she was; a threat.

“Leave,” he told the girls over his shoulder in a calm and controlled voice but Izzie could tell that he was ready to snap.

The girls needed no urging as they grabbed their clothes and darted out the front, squealing as they left.

“Drink?” Colt asked her, grabbing a decanter and pouring himself a drink of some heavily-scented liquor.

Izzie shook her head; slightly at a loss for what to do now. He was supposed to be fighting back but he just sat there, a drink in one hand as he waited for her to finish the job.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Colt held his arms open wide, “Run me through,”

The faces of her family flooded her mind, slightly blurred as she forgot what they looked like over the years, and it gave her the strength to press her sword against his throat.

It gave her the strength to kill him.