An Unexpected Journey. (closed for M13)

[DarkWarrioress]

Ashlin came back to camp with her arms loaded with wood and none of the men jumped up to help with it. Her dark red hair was falling in her eyes despite the fact the most of the mass was tied at the nape of her neck. She paused just outside of the ring of men who were lounging around the campfire with their drinks in hand. Her foot found and kicked Tucker’s leg.

“Lout! Help a lady out, will ya?” Tucker took a swig of his drink and lazily looked up at Ashlin.

“Lady? Wha’ lady? I don’t see no ladies around here.”

The rest of the men chuckled. Ashlin kicked him again before she stumbled over to drop the wood into the dwindling pile. Tucker roared in pain and drew his foot up, rubbing his ankle and trying to glare at the girl. It would have been more effective if he wasn’t drunk. Dusting off her trews, she glared at the lot of them, hands settling on her hips after she brushed a lock of hair from her face.

“And what are the lot of you laughing at? I have a mind not to cook for you for a week then we will see who is laughing.”

Tomas simply burped and responded, “No matter, Ash. We’ll just go steal our food.”

The rest of their merry little band of thieves all murmured in agreement, raising their tankards in a brief salute to Tomas. They were hopeless, the lot of them. They would drink the day away and expect her to have food ready before they all rode out to rob some unsuspecting lord on the roads. These men despised lords of the realm. Lords. Knights. Ladies. They were all the same to these men. Rich.

~~ ~~​

“Ash, you comin’?”

Tucker’s voice reached into her tent as she was dressing. Ashlin poked her head out from between the tent flaps.

“Not this morning. I want to pick berries for tonight’s dinner.”

At least that’s what she told them and it wasn’t a complete lie. She was planning to pick berries when she wasn’t busy robbing someone on her own. She was more than ready to do this by herself. The men had raised her well. They had taught her how to fight with swords and daggers, how to misdirect so that picking a pocket was easy and the getaway swift. Ashlin took her time dressing and rolled her eyes heavenward as she sat on her bedroll to pull on her boots. The men were slow in getting started today. She poked her head out of the tent and looked around, the men were gone. Good. Stepping out from the confines of her tent, she twitched her thick braid of dark auburn hair over her shoulder, tucking the length into the back of her shirt. Her short sword was strapped to one hip, one dagger lodged at the small of her back in the waistband of her trews, another hidden in her boot. Ash held a piece of cloth in her hand that would serve to cover her face, all but her eyes. There was no way to camouflage the fact she was a female, not with those blue eyes of hers, but she found, it often worked to her advantage. One, her brothers, for that was how she thought of them, had encouraged her to use.

Tossing her bag over her shoulder she started off through the woods in the opposite direction her brothers had taken. Ash kept her eyes on the road but let her thoughts wander. As far back as she could remember these men had been there for her. They were all she had known. The story of how she came to them had been brief and to the point. They had had been traveling along the road, not in a pack because that normally aroused suspicion. One of them chose the road, the others kept to the woods. They had come upon the remains of a burnt caravan, bodies had littered the road. The men had set about stripping the dead bodies of anything useful. What did the dead have need of it? When one of them, Tucker, had heard crying. At first, Tucker thought he had imagined it, but when the wailing became louder, he went searching and found a babe, wrapped in a blanket, violently kicking, fists waving in the air and turning extremely red in the face, in some bushes not very far away. Next to the babe lay the body of a woman with an arrow embedded in her back. There was nothing Tucker could do for the woman but he awkwardly scooped up the child and trotted back to his brethren. They had debated what to do with the squalling child. Unsure what to do between arguing with his brothers and not sure how to calm the babe, Tucker just started to gently jiggle up and down the bundle in the crook of his arm. The babe calmed and stared up at Tucker with big blue eyes. He was lost the moment the babe grabbed for his finger and started to gnaw on it. Looking back on it, Ash wasn’t sure how six burly thieves, who knew nothing about babies, let alone how to raise one, had managed to do just that, raise her, yet here she stood. Ash had been content with her lot in life until recently. The seven had gone to a township not far from where they resided now, to attend a faire. It was a thief’s dream. Nobles. Knights. Grand Ladies. All of which spelled easy pickings for thieves such as themselves. And it had been. For the most part. There was one thing Ash hadn’t counted on experiencing and since that day, it was something constantly on her mind. Her eyes had been drawn to the grand ladies. They looked so elegant and for the first time, she wondered how it felt to be like them. She was a female too even if her lot in life was different. How would soft silks feel on her skin? How would it feel to have a man look at her like the lords gazed at the ladies? To treat her as if she were something precious and special. She had thrust those thoughts away time and time again, only to have them return to plague her. More and more strongly she was wanting to know.

The soft sound of a horse’s hooves brought her sharply out of her thoughts. A lone figure was riding down the road. Stopping, she drew the cloth over her head, draping the material until it covered the over half of her face, leaving nothing exposed but her eyes. Ash crept to the bushes closest to the road and waited for the figure to come closer. As the sounds of the horse's hooves became louder, she peered through the brush, the rider was still far enough away yet close enough for him to see her. Ash slipped from the brush holding up both hands, a feigned look of distress in her eyes. She stood directly in the path of the horse, Luckily it wasn’t moving at a gallop. From the looks of the rider, he was a knight. Her eyes scanned for colors or a sigil of the House he belonged to and found none. Lovely. A knight without a lord apparently. How much gold could he possibly have? From this distance, he couldn’t tell she was female but when he drew closer, there would be no doubt. There was hardly any way to camouflage her curves. She waited until the rider and horse drew closer, steeling her nerves.

“Please. Stop. I need help. My friend.”

Her voice held a note of frantic distress that carried through the cloth wrapped around her face.

 

[marauder13]

Sir Marcus Torbay was a man well matched to his stead. The pair were ill tempered, in desperate need of grooming, heavily built and were beyond doubt meant for fighting. The large warhorse walked along the road, thankful for the overhead shade and cool air as was his rider. Together, the pair kept hard, flat stares focused on the surrounds, which along with his mount's ears, worked to cover as much area as possible.

Marcus was still bitter over the reasons for his being where he was, alone on a road in the middle of nowhere, rather that with his brothers in the home of the Count of Grenwald. The previous Count had been betrayed, which led to his untimely death. Marcus snorted, which had Granthum's ears turn back towards him. More like a murder for how it was done. But then, the King brought forth one of the vassal Barons to take over the County.

Lord Raffan still held a grudge against Marcus for matters long since dealt with. When the knights came forth to swear fealty to the new Count, Raffan refused to take Marcus'. Further, he removed everything Marcus was given to perform his duties, that wasn't purchased by him. So, when Marcus left the castle, he had barely more than a breastplate, pot helm and shield to protect him. His mount and shield he had bought, those were reluctantly left in his care. The first thing that Marcus did upon leaving the castle was buying a new sword, which he carried at his side. The large, heavy, broad blade felt good in his hands.

"One day we will prove what we know is true, and Lord Raffan will swing like the carrion he is."

Granthum's ear flicked forward, and his head lifted enough to straighten the line of his head and neck. Marcus loosened the sword in the scabbard as the figure came out onto the road. Marcus brought himself to a halt, listening for sounds of others in the bushes. He heard none. The figure had their hands raised, empty and far from any weapons. Something was amiss, but he couldn't figure out what. The figure was lithe, clothing was male. Some young lad, perhaps?

He gave Granthum the lightest of nudges. The horse responded my walking slowly forward, seemingly lazily conserving his strength. As they closed, Marcus made out more features that added to his concerns about this meeting. The stranger's face was obscured, only the eyes could be plainly seen. The eyes spoke clearly of distress, which Marcus was ready, and willing to deal with.

“Please. Stop. I need help. My friend.”

Through his helm, his brow furrowed. The voice sounded remarkably feminine, and the body shape gave credence to that opinion. But then, it would not be the first time a boy had been padded to make them look like a maiden. But then, why was he in men's clothing, not women's. Marcus adjusted himself in the saddle, staring at the stranger. He weighed his options in case this was some form of ambush. He had the advantage of height on the horse, but the lack of area to effectively use it turned it to a disadvantage. At least on foot, he would not fear being knocked off and prone, plus Granthum would fight better without a rider.

Marcus slid down of his horse, giving him a reassuring pat on the neck. He took a few steps until he stood before his mount.

"Well met, Friend. How may I be of help to you?"

Just as he expected, others stepped from the bushes, weapons drawn. All were men of desperate appearance and actions. All that he saw had looks of hunger in their eyes that had little to do with food. They reminded him of a pack of starving wolves, without the nobility of the beasts.

"You can help by giving up your weapons, giving us your money and your stead." The tallest, scruffiest of the men took a half step forward, pointing an abused short sword at the other stranger. "Plus, we'll leave with the woman too." With a nod, two of the men moved towards the one they declared a woman.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The woman?

The voice had come out of the trees and from behind her. It didn’t belong to one of her brothers either. Ash whirled instinctively, her sword withdrawing from its scabbard as she did so.

"You can help by giving up your weapons, giving us your money and your stead. Plus, we'll leave with the woman too.”

Her heart sunk as she saw several of them step from the cover the trees had provided. How many times had she and her brothers done exactly the same thing? Her back was toward the knight as the bandits started toward them, spreading out, starting to circle them like a pack of ravenous wolves. Two of them were coming directly toward her.

“I hope you know how to use that shiny new sword,” she threw over her shoulder just before one of the bandits rushed her.

Ash was quick on her feet. Her sword slashed downward as she nimbly sidestepped the man. He was built like a bull and coming at her fast. The edge of her blade bit into his thigh, making him bellow. From the corner of her eye, she could see the second man sneaking up on her. He was probably thinking she couldn’t or hadn’t seen him. While she watched the injured one, her muscles remained tense, ready to spring again. The sneaky one was still creeping up on her and though he was now outside of her line of vision, she knew he was there. Somewhere.

The big guy was going to charge her again, Ash could see it in his eyes. And the sneaky one? He was probably going to charge her at the same time. Her eyes stayed glued to the bull’s face, he was bound to give something…. Ahhh, there it was. His eyes shifted behind her somewhere. It was just as she thought. Ash didn’t have a lot of time to think. A split second if she was lucky. Her sword came up. One she could see, one she couldn’t. Ash braced herself….

There was no time to wonder what the knight was doing. She had barely caught a glimpse of a bandit charging at him from two sides. Saw the flash of the horse rising up on his hind legs. An inhuman scream rent the air. Heard the clash of steel.

Focus, Ashlin, focus!

The giant came at her, this time angrily roaring. The girl had cut into his thigh. A girl. He could kill her for that.

Wait, Ash. Don't move. Not. Yet.

Her muscles were twitching nervously. She forced them to remain steady. The man she injured drew close and somewhere behind her, the other one was too. It was a reflexive action, she pivoted on her toes, her sword coming up and slashing downward as her body swung around behind him. Her blade found his ham string and sliced across it. She could feel someone making a grab for her tunic. She heard it rip. Raising a boot, she set it against the big man's arse and shoved. Hopefully straight into the sneaky one. She was turning away to put distance between herself and those two and ran straight into a meaty fist. The world went dark.

 

[marauder13]

Marcus was surprised to hear that the stranger was a woman, and more so to find she was not with them. Of course, it could have been a plow save for the way the woman reacted. It was no act on her part, or if it was, she was in the wrong line of business.

He heard the woman say something, but it was lost in the haze that was the battle being joined. He quickly unhooked the shield from the saddle, setting it as he drew his sword. Granthum immediately turned and pranced away from his rider, luring a few bandits away with him. Marcus was not concerned, as his horse was getting room to fight.

A quick glance showed the woman was no stranger to swordplay, marking one of the ruffians and raising quite a bellow for her efforts. He couldn't watch anymore as the first of his attackers started their swings. Marcus knew that he needed to kill or badly wound a few of them to force the others to break. His shield took the first blow, his sword parried another attacker's blow. The shorter weapons were an advantage in closer against his sword. While Marcus was a Knight, and upheld the Kinghtly ways, when it came to the battlefield, only those honours that led to victory were remembered.

His foot caught the groin of the second attacker hard, causing the man to double over and drop. That gave Marcus the room he needed to swing his blade properly. The other man, shifting to bypass the shield, blanched for a moment before the blade chopped off his off arm, and crashed into his chest to break a few ribs. Marcus kicked the man on the ground as he stepped over him to engage the next brigand. The momentum was now up, and Marcus was able to deflect the man's blow while driving the blade into his body, killing him where he stood.

A scream and crunching of bone told him that Granthum had accounted for another of the attackers as Marcus took stock of their situation. He saw the woman struck by a fist, sending her sprawling. Marcus took a couple of steps and contemptuously kicked the man in the side of the head with the flat of his foot. The dazed man rolled over, scrambled to his feet and ran off. The rest of them took this as sound wisdom, and fled into the bushes too.

Two men remained on the field. The one armed ruffian who was sitting, pale as the life drops of his life flowed from his arm. He looked shocked and sad as he slowly toppled to one side, commencing his next leg in the great travels. The other lay on the ground, groaning in pain trying to get himself up. Marcus walked up to him, slamming his foot down on the man's sword. He howled as his fingers were caught between the hilt and the ground.

"I would suggest you find somewhere else to go about your business. I have a good memory for faces too. If I see yours, or any of your companions again, I will not hesitate in finishing what I started."

He wiped his blade on the man's back, putting the blade back in the scabbard loosely before he went to check on the woman. She was still breathing, and a bruise was visible near her eye. He noted the cloth covering her face, a sure sign that she was planning to do what these men had planned. He moved the cloth aside, and the face was that of a young woman.

"What shall we do with her, old friend?" Granthum nudged Marcus to let Marcus know he was there and fine. Marcus had a habit of talking to his stead as though the horse was human. Marcus held Granthum in higher esteem than a lot of humans he knew.

Granthum knickered, nudging him twice with his nose before moving up a little to stand beside them. Marcus took the move for a sign of what the horse thought. The knight scooped up the unconscious woman, and draped her over the saddle, pausing to pick up her blade as well. The two started walking away from the body littered path as if they had stopped for a short break. Apart from the sounds of the lame man trying to move, all Marcus heard was the distant cries of wolves about to start their hunt.

~||~​

It took a few hours before they found a good spot to make camp. Marcus' companion had been stirring slightly but was still more unconscious than not. The fire pit was dug low, and some meat was warming beside it. He looked over at her in the fading light. The bruise was growing, and she would have a rather sore head when she woke. He had covered her with a blanket, and her blade was close at hand for when she woke. That had tipped the balance in her favour. She had fought beside him, and that outweighed any intent she may have had when they first met.

Her movements finally declared that she was awake, and Marcus rose to his feet slowly.

"Greetings, my lady. Please don't panic. We are a few miles from the place where the fight occurred. You were struck, and laid low. I wanted to make sure that you were fine before we parted company. Thank you for you assistance in dealing with those ruffians. My compliments to those who taught you to use your sword.

"When you are ready, I have some water for you, and some meat too. I suggest you move slowly after being hit as you were."

He knelt back next to the fire, checking the meat, but keeping the woman in view. While she fought to help him, she might still mean to seek him harm, and he would be ready, if she tried. But a bigger part of him hoped she wouldn't.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Consciousness was upon her like a flash of lightning. It coursed through her being and brought shooting pain with it. By Jove, what the hell had she run into? Ash almost moaned aloud, but restrained from doing so, just barely. Her head was pounding but she managed to look through her lashes. The sight and sound of a fire, assailed her senses as did the smell of cooked meat. The latter made her stomach heave and her eyes slam shut.

What had happened? Was she captive? She stirred. His voice came from beyond her line of sight.

"Greetings, my lady. Please don't panic. We are a few miles from the place where the fight occurred. You were struck, and laid low. I wanted to make sure that you were fine before we parted company. Thank you for you assistance in dealing with those ruffians. My compliments to those who taught you to use your sword.

When you are ready, I have some water for you, and some meat too. I suggest you move slowly after being hit as you were."

She opened her eyes to find the knight she had been intent to rob, crouching near the fire. It all came rushing back. The fight. Ash struggled to sit up. There was a small outcropping of rocks behind her and pulled herself semi-upright to lean against them. White light exploded in her head and she thought she was going to lose whatever contents might still dwell in her stomach. Her fingers pressed to either side of her head, a small moan left her lips. It was then she realized her face was no longer covered. She lifted her blue eyes to the knight. Now what? Ash wasn’t tied. So, maybe he wasn’t going to turn her in to the nearest town’s sheriff.

“Just water please good knight,” her voice was soft and pained, “I don’t believe my stomach could tolerate food at the moment. What happened?”

The impulse to turn her head and look around them was strong but she had the feeling if she had done so, the pain, which was now a dull throb, would come sharply back. Something she had no wish to encounter again. Ash glanced around at her surroundings without trying to move her head much. Her eyes fell upon her sword, making her sigh reassuredly. No, he wasn't going to turn her in. Her head canted slightly to one side as she watched him.

 

[marauder13]

Marcus watched as the woman slowly sat herself up, despite the obvious discomfort the move brought her. Having been struck like that himself more than once, he had a good idea of how she would have felt doing it. She was either somewhat foolish, or possibly someone of very strong resolve.

'Or maybe both'

fingers came to rest on either side of her head, the moan of pain escaping the lips. Probably felt like her head was about to split open or fall off. Or maybe she was hoping for either of those. Marcus stopped the grin from his reminiscing. He moved the meat away from the fire, then grabbed the water skin and took it over to the woman. He knelt down beside her, and dribbled a little water into her mouth. He let it sink into her mouth, before letting a little more in the next time. He gave her a series of small sips until she signaled she had her fill. He then took a mouthful of water, stoppered the skin and left it at her side.

“As for what happened, my Lady, the ruffians, who I gathered were not ones in league with yourself, decided to rob us. They attacked, and you came to my aid. Thank you for that.” Marcus bowed to her. “You managed to wound one, but he punched you in the face, knocking you out. I managed to kill two of them, Granthum,” he nodded to his horse, “killed a third. The rest ran rather than join them on the Great Journey.

“Since you aided me in battle, I could not just leave you there, so I brought you here to tend to you until such time as you were able to make your own way again.” Marcus picked up a piece of meat, and took a bite from it, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

“If I may suggest, find another way to make a living. Robbing folks is too fraught with dangers, and only those few of us who the Gods smile upon are given the chance to live better lives. Though, I am starting to doubt if this is that much of a better life.”

Marcus looked at the piece of meat in his hand, clearly seeing in his mind's eye the meats served at his Lord's table during the feasts held in honour of great events, holidays and visiting guests. Pork, bacon, beef, venison, duck. Along with fresh breads, cheeses, wines, ales. He could hear the music, laughter, stories and tall tales of his brothers trying to out impress each other before the guests. Tears started to well in his eyes but he blinked them away.

“But life is what life is. I am sure that if you had the choice, you would not be on the road waiting to part a traveler from his purse.” He looked back over at the woman. “Forgive me, my Lady, for my lack of politeness. I am Sir Marcus Torbay, Knight of the Realm.”

He nodded to her once more, then took another bite from the meat in his hand and continued to chew slowly and thoughtfully.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Lost in her misery, Ashlin was startled to feel the water skin at her lips. She stared up at him blankly, unused to someone feeding her, even if it was but water. Still, she swallowed, cautiously. He remained where he was, knelt at her side, carefully tending to her and finally she signaled she had enough. She listened intently as he spoke of what had happened and by the time the tale was told, she remembered clearly.

Even though he meant well, his lecture on her choice of trade, fell virtually on deaf ears. The priest at the local village they visited for supplies and ale, spouted the same thing. Oh, kindly enough, but they could never understand. Besides, Ashlin had no skills other than thieving and swordplay. It was the world she had grown up in. it was what she knew. That is not to say that she hadn’t wondered what it would be like to do other things. She had watched people in the villages they visited from time to time as they went about their daily lives. She studied the grand ladies when they went to the faires to thieve. One was of privilege, the other was not, that much was clear. She had envied some of one, some of the other. His voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“But life is what life is. I am sure that if you had the choice, you would not be on the road waiting to part a traveler from his purse. Forgive me, my Lady, for my lack of politeness. I am Sir Marcus Torbay, Knight of the Realm.”

She managed a weak smile. Her eyes roved over him. A Knight without a Lord. She knew it. Ash wondered how it came to be so. Knights usually always had lords. There was simply little money to be had otherwise.

“You may call me Ashlin, Sir Torbay and thank you for not leaving me on the roadside. “

At that moment her stomach decided to make itself known. One of her hands flew down to cover it. Just the look and smell of the meat, let alone thinking of eating any, turned her stomach.

“Sir Torbay? Might you have a small piece of bread or cheese to share? Meat is not appealing to me at the moment, but apparently my stomach is demanding something of me.”

Her head tilted slightly to one side as she studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Why do you not have a lord?” In Ashlin’s mind, the only way to get an answer to a question, was by asking the question to begin with. She saw nothing wrong in doing so. Her brothers had brought her up to speak her mind.

 

[marauder13]

While the young woman was still not fully healthy, she was awake enough to be casting her eyes about the camp, and more importantly over himself. It came as little surprise to him, as he wore nothing to to declare his fealty to any of the Lords of the Land, yet his bearing, and his gear, declared him to be a Knight.

“You may call me Ashlin, Sir Torbay and thank you for not leaving me on the roadside.”

"Lady or not, I would never leave a wounded companion on the field. Tis not right."

Marcus shifted sharply as Ashlin's hand flew to her mouth. He relaxed when she saw the discolouration of her face, as well as the discomfort. He felt slightly bad for acting out of reflex, but he hoped that Ashlin wouldn't be too offended by the move.

“Sir Torbay? Might you have a small piece of bread or cheese to share? Meat is not appealing to me at the moment, but apparently my stomach is demanding something of me.”

"Of course, Lady Ashlin. But please, call me Sir Marcus." He placed the meat down, and went over to the sack that hung from the tree branch. He easily lifted it down, opening it up and pulled out half a loaf of bread, and a wedge of deep yellow cheese. He closed the sack, replacing it on the rope that hung from the branch.

“Why do you not have a lord?”

Marcus paused at the question, momentarily tensing. He relaxed before he turned, taking the food over to Ashlin, laying them on the ground beside her.

"Take your fill. I'll get myself some when you're finished."

He walked back to his spot, sitting down and retrieving his meat.

"The reason I am not in service of any Lord, Lady Ashlin, is because the Lord who Knighted me was killed. He died without a male heir, so the king decreed another to take up his demesne, and take his eldest daughter as wife as well. When it came time to take the oaths of fealty of his vassal Lords and his Knights, he refused. But due to my Lord's lineage and Title, being refused my fealty was not enough to have me striped of my knighthood. Only the King can do that now.

"So now, I travel to see if any Lords are in need of another Knight. I doubt that anyone will accept my service, because I would not be without a Lord without a good reason."

Marcus took a couple of bites from his meat, chewing hard and swallowing loudly. Recounting the tale had not been any easier. The raw anger and hurt still burned him deeply over the travesty of what befell his Lord.

Marcus looked back at Ashlin, his gaze steady and his expression calm. He spoke normally, his voice carrying no hint of scorn, anger or disappointment.

"And what of you, Lady Ashlin? Do your parents still live, or did you take up brigandage after being orphaned?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He was kind and generous. It wasn’t something she was use to from people. Ash waited until he returned to the fire and his meat before she broke off the smallest piece of bread and a same size portion of his cheese. He was a man without a lord and he had done her a kindness she could not, In good conscience take more than just the bare minimal for her needs.

"So now, I travel to see if any Lords are in need of another Knight. I doubt that anyone will accept my service, because I would not be without a Lord without a good reason."

“Yes, but surely your lord dying is a good enough reason to be without one. Why would they hold that against you? Men die every day, titled or nay.”

Her speech was not rough like her brothers. She listened to the gentry when they talked and how they talked. Ash had a good ear. It didn’t take her long to learn intonation or to correct her own words. Now, she almost sounded….cultured.

"And what of you, Lady Ashlin? Do your parents still live, or did you take up brigandage after being orphaned?"

The small bit of cheese and bread she had taken, were set in her lap as she shook her head, then fiercely regretted doing such for now her brain thumped in her skull. Her eyes momentarily flashed with pain. Ash reached for water skin, unstopped it and raised it to her lips, taking a bit of water. This, at least, was plentiful and she could replenish what she used easily. The water bag was resealed and set aside. Her eyes once more sought Sir Marcus.

“I am no lady, Sir Marcus. I’m afraid it would be like trying to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse for a grand lady of the court.” She picked up her piece of bread and nibbled at it.

“My brothers found me in some bushes. They came across my parent’s caravan. All were dead by the time they came upon it. A woman, perhaps my mother, was lying face down in the dirt, her arm thrown over my squalling form. Six burly men who nothing of how to raise a babe, did. They kept me. Raised me up as properly as they could. They each taught me everything they knew. I am grateful to them. They could have left me for dead. But sometimes…” her voice trailed off and the bread had suddenly lost its appeal. She looked down at her lap. “Sometimes…. I wish I could learn more.”

 

[marauder13]

Marcus noted there was a quiet dignity to Ashlin, something that was surprising common to those born to the lower classes. But it shone brighter in her, and gave her a rather refined quality. Even the way she broke off the food she required was delicate, as deemed seemly of a lady of high station. He was concerned at the small portions she removed for herself, but then her stomach was not good enough to hold down much. Further, she knew what her body was capable of better than he.

“Yes, but surely your lord dying is a good enough reason to be without one. Why would they hold that against you? Men die every day, titled or nay.”

"But when a Lord dies, another takes his place. Those that were sworn vassals to the old Lord swear to the new Lord. Those not accepted are stripped of their titles, and sent away. Due to circumstance, I can't be stripped of mine by the new Lord. So, there is now a question as to why I was not sworn. What did I do to be dishonoured so? Am I untrustworthy in some manner? Those doubts will work against me, and if word is received from the Lord who refused my Oath, I do not believe he will not speak well of me."

Marcus caught the reaction to his question about her history, and briefly regretted the manner in which he asked. He was not trying to be mean to Ashlin when he asked her, but he was inconsiderate. An echo of his own past showing up in his new life. The food was dropped into her lap, and water taken instead before she returned her gaze to his.

It was then he noticed her eyes. The colour was surprising warm for the shade of blue they were. It reminded him of the clear sky on a spring day, which in turn brought memories of gentle warmth. They were eyes well suited to the woman he was starting to discover in the camp.

“I am no lady, Sir Marcus. I’m afraid it would be like trying to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse for a grand lady of the court.”

Marcus cut short his laugh, sensing that Ashlin was still talking, noting her choice of description was perfect on so many levels.

“My brothers found me in some bushes. They came across my parent’s caravan. All were dead by the time they came upon it. A woman, perhaps my mother, was lying face down in the dirt, her arm thrown over my squalling form. Six burly men who nothing of how to raise a babe, did. They kept me. Raised me up as properly as they could. They each taught me everything they knew. I am grateful to them. They could have left me for dead. But sometimes… Sometimes…. I wish I could learn more.”

Marcus brought himself back under control, giving Ashlin an apologetic look.

"Please forgive me, Lady Ashlin. But, many of the 'grand ladies' you think of are so much the sow's ear that they still squeal like the pigs they are. Within you, right now, is more than enough 'silk' to make a lady of high station. Believe me, they managed to make a knight out of me. They could definitely make a Lady out of you.

"Your brothers sound like good men at heart, regardless of their current lifestyle. Given that they have lived long enough to raise you also speaks well of their skills too. Not many men of their type would take in a babe and raise it, even more so a girl child. Such men I could spare if I met like I did earlier today.

"But what is stopping you from learning more, Lady Ashlin? You are a brave woman, and there are ways for one such as yourself to learn more of how women of station live. It would mean leaving your brothers, and the type of life you have lived up til now. I am sure that I could put you into a fine dress and take you into a noble's court and few would see you as anything but a Lady. Most are ladies merely by virtue of their parentage, not by any other virtue."

He finished eating the rest f his meat, then rubbed his hands on his thighs. He stood up and walked over to Granthum, who lifted his head and butted Marcus by way of greeting. Marcus gave the horse an affection pat on the neck, ruffling his mane.

"I should give you a bit of a brush, old friend." Granthum nodded a few times, making some loud agreeable noises. Marcus laughed and found the brush and started grooming his stead's long, shaggy coat. "It is not the best look for a noble stead such as yourself, but you and I both know, looks are not important on the field of battle, are they?" Granthum ripped up the turf beneath him and snorted.

Marcus lost himself in the act of brushing Granthum down. Even the horse seemed to drift off a little as Marcus worked over his coat. The soothing act helped the two bond, remind each other how much they depended on the other and how good friends they were. By the time it was done, both were nicely relaxed.

"There, all ready for the night's sleep." Marcus went over to his gear, and found his bed roll. He took it over to Ashlin. "Please don't complain about taking my bed for the night. I can keep myself warm enough through the night without it. You, however, had no plans on staying out over night. In the morning, we'll see how you are, and determine what to do then. Sleep well, Lady Ashlin."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"Please forgive me, Lady Ashlin. But, many of the 'grand ladies' you think of are so much the sow's ear that they still squeal like the pigs they are. Within you, right now, is more than enough 'silk' to make a lady of high station. Believe me, they managed to make a knight out of me. They could definitely make a Lady out of you.

"Your brothers sound like good men at heart, regardless of their current lifestyle. Given that they have lived long enough to raise you also speaks well of their skills too. Not many men of their type would take in a babe and raise it, even more so a girl child. Such men I could spare if I met like I did earlier today.

"But what is stopping you from learning more, Lady Ashlin? You are a brave woman, and there are ways for one such as yourself to learn more of how women of station live. It would mean leaving your brothers, and the type of life you have lived up til now. I am sure that I could put you into a fine dress and take you into a noble's court and few would see you as anything but a Lady. Most are ladies merely by virtue of their parentage, not by any other virtue."

“My brothers, Sir Marcus, would probably make you change your mind greatly if you had the misfortune to run into them. They would rather rob you of anything you possessed to sell it for the most coin. They have little regard for gentry or knights, I fear. But still, they live by their own code, so no harm was going to befall me and Tucker, he took a right shine to me. Said I wrapped my tiny fingers around his bigger one and that put paid to anything else the rest had in mind for me. For all their faults, they care for their own and if that makes them of good heart, then aye, they are.”

Ash grew silent as she watched Sir Marcus groom his horse. Her lips managed a smile. There was a bond there, betwixt man and beast. It was something not often seen by her kind as mankind treated animals as something less than themselves. The animal being a means to some end but this, she thought as she quietly watched Sir Marcus and Granthum, was far more than that.

“I learn what I can, Sir Marcus from watching the grand ladies whenever we go to faires. You know how the ladies love them but the knowledge gained is little. Besides, would it do to turn myself into one of those ladies who you claim are a sow’s ear? How would I know the difference? Even if I had the courage and knowledge to approach one, they would look upon me in horror, as if I were some dimwit who had completely lost her mind or worse yet, laugh at me,” she shook her head slightly, “nay, for all my yearnings, tis better if I just keep trying to learn the way I have been and before you say more, even putting me into a fine dress, does not make me a lady. I know nothing of how ladies eat in company nor can I make genteel conversation and heaven forbid, I do not know the first thing of dancing, music or art. I do not even know how to flirt. I once watched through a window of a grand ball. I could never hope to have a dress such as that or hold my own even on the arm of a knight such as yourself. No, it is pointless, Sir Marcus. All I will ever be is a sow’s ear.”

Ash grew quiet then, intent on watching man and horse. Granthum it seemed, enjoyed having his coat brushed. She watched as his head dipped and his tail stopped swishing back and forth except for occasionally. She pondered idly how it would feel to have another brush her hair for her each night and if she would feel as the horse did. She watched as Sir Marcus removed his bed roll and started toward her. Her lips parted to protest but he forestalled her as he set it beside her.

"There, all ready for the night's sleep. Please don't complain about taking my bed for the night. I can keep myself warm enough through the night without it. You, however, had no plans on staying out over night. In the morning, we'll see how you are, and determine what to do then. Sleep well, Lady Ashlin."

Regardless of his words, she still felt dismay. She was taking his comfort for the night away from him. Yet, she knew that arguing would be useless. Instead, she sat there and quietly finished off the bit of cheese and bread she had before spreading out his bedroll. Her head was starting to pound again. It robbed her of the will to argue with him. Instead, she crawled inside and snuggled down.

“And you as well, Sir Marcus. “

Of their own volition, her eyelids fluttered closed and drifted off to sleep. To a place where pain could not reach her. To dream dreams where she was a lady at long last and perhaps to find love of her own.

 

[marauder13]

Marcus gathered the bread and cheese while Ashlin got herself settled in his bedroll ready for sleep. He broke off some cheese for himself, as well as tearing off some bread, taking the rest back to the sack for safe keeping.

“And you as well, Sir Marcus.”

He peered back to his companion, seeing her eyes closing and her settling into a much needed sleep. He smiled, and nodded his thanks to her, returning the unused portions of the food to the sack. He found his cloak, putting it on while he walked closer to Granthum. He sat himself down, eating the remainder of his supper while he reflected on the words Ashlin said.

“My brothers, Sir Marcus, would probably make you change your mind greatly if you had the misfortune to run into them. They would rather rob you of anything you possessed to sell it for the most coin. They have little regard for gentry or knights, I fear. But still, they live by their own code, so no harm was going to befall me and Tucker, he took a right shine to me. Said I wrapped my tiny fingers around his bigger one and that put paid to anything else the rest had in mind for me. For all their faults, they care for their own and if that makes them of good heart, then aye, they are.”

Marcus kept his voice soft so he didn't disturb Ashlin, who probably was used to being a light sleeper given the nature of her life.

"It would seem that her brothers are closer to men of my own stripe than the dear young woman knows, Granthum. I don't care much for the gentry or knights either, even though I am one. Old habits do die hardest, don't they dear friend."

“I learn what I can, Sir Marcus from watching the grand ladies whenever we go to faires. You know how the ladies love them but the knowledge gained is little. Besides, would it do to turn myself into one of those ladies who you claim are a sow’s ear? How would I know the difference? Even if I had the courage and knowledge to approach one, they would look upon me in horror, as if I were some dimwit who had completely lost her mind or worse yet, laugh at me,” she shook her head slightly, “nay, for all my yearnings, tis better if I just keep trying to learn the way I have been and before you say more, even putting me into a fine dress, does not make me a lady. I know nothing of how ladies eat in company nor can I make genteel conversation and heaven forbid, I do not know the first thing of dancing, music or art. I do not even know how to flirt. I once watched through a window of a grand ball. I could never hope to have a dress such as that or hold my own even on the arm of a knight such as yourself. No, it is pointless, Sir Marcus. All I will ever be is a sow’s ear.”

"She obviously doesn't listen to herself speak, Granthum. She speaks as well as any noblewoman I have heard. Given how she moved in the fight, she has grace enough to dance well, and to move well in finery. It would be interesting to see how she would look in a dress rather than in a man's garb. As for the rest, even ladies in court must learn those skills, and some learn quicker than others. Some, as we well know, are kept from Court for a long time, and when they arrive, are rough around the edges, but soon learn. She would be no worse than they.

"But it is not for me to force the young woman to do what she does not want to do. If she wishes to live this way, then I will return her to a place where she can take herself back to her brothers, or I will take her to wherever she wants to go."

Marcus drew his sword, placing it across his lap with the blade under the cloak. He settled, allowing himself to drift into the light sleep of when he traveled in the countryside. The morning's light would reveal the answers he sought. Until then, he would rest.

~||~​

Marcus woke to the gust of warm, wet air snorted from Granthum's nostrils racing past his ear. Burying the effected ear in his shoulder, Marcus glared at his horse, who gave Marcus a good morning nudge with his nose. What irritation Marcus had at the nature of the wake up vanished as he knew Granthum was just trying to be nice and polite.

"Good morning to you too, my friend." A hand reached out to rub his muzzle. Marcus stretched his arms, neck and upper back before standing and working out the kinks in his lower back and legs. He went to get the fire going, returning life to the nice pile of glowing embers in the base of the fire pit.

He looked over to see Ashlin was still asleep. He wondered if she would sleep a little later than he would, given how she had been injured. He was going to check that she lived through the night, but she moved a little and murmured, making him no longer need to check. He decided he would let her sleep until he had readied their breakfast.

He got the ingredients for a soup from the sack, and quietly went about getting it ready. It was not going to be the best example of soup, but it would fill their bellies, and keep them warm enough in the early part of the day. Once it was ready, he walked over towards Ashlin, making some noise as he went. He stopped a few feet away, squatting down.

"Ashlin. Ashlin. Wake up. Food is ready. Today, we need to work out where to take you. Come join me near the fire when you are ready."

He went back to the fire, and poured out a serving of the soup into a bowl, and let it stand and cool down enough to eat.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

"Ashlin. Ashlin. Wake up. Food is ready. Today, we need to work out where to take you. Come join me near the fire when you are ready."

Her name being called drew her from sleep’s embrace. Ash sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, feeling a bit disoriented until her brain started functioning again. She focused on the man not far away, pouring a savory stew into a bowl. The smell made her nose twitch eagerly and her tummy growl. She scrambled from the bedroll and stood up, jerking on her clothes until they fitted as they should. Ash reached for her sword, buckling it in place.

“Let me go wash up and I’ll be right back.”

She wasn’t sure where they were exactly, but last night she had heard running water. The sound had helped lure her to sleep. Ash simply followed the sound and soon found a running stream. She saw to her personal needs before kneeling on the grassy edge, scooping up cold water in her cupped hand and splashing it over her face. If she had been even a little sleepy, she wasn’t now. Getting to her feet, she looked around, trying to get her bearings as she wiped her face on her sleeve. She was fairly certain they weren’t too far from the camp she made with her brothers.

Ash retraced her steps back to Sir Marcus and sat down the bedroll again, cross-legged this time after adjusting the sword at her side. Her blue eyes watching him intently as she absentmindedly chewed on her bottom lip.

“Sir Marcus…”

She began then stopped. Did she really want to do this? Was she really considering it? Did he really mean what he said and would he do it? Her brow furrowed as she thought about the matter. How badly did she want this? And then there was the ever plaguing question of why. She didn’t understand it herself. All she knew was that there was something down deep inside her that wanted desperately to be a genteel lady. The need did not stem from some grand romantic notion of finding a noble man for a husband to sweep her away from her current life. No, it stemmed from some deep need that she couldn’t define. It was as if she belonged among them for some unknown reason. Ash gave herself a little shake. She tried again.

“Sir Marcus,” she cleared her throat, “would you consider teaching me what I need to know?”

Once started, her words came pouring out in a rush as if she were afraid he would stop her any moment before she was done.

“You’ve been subjected to the ways of a noble’s court. You have been around the ladies there. You’ve traveled, seen things I am sure. You said you could introduce me to a noble’s court and no one would ever suspect I was not a lady. Oh please, Sir Marcus, do consider it, will you? Perhaps we will even find you a lord to serve under while we’re about it. “

Her eyes pleaded with him across the space that separated them. She held out little hope for it however. Sir Marcus had his own troubles. Why would he take on such a daunting task of turning the girl into a lady? She had money put aside. She hardly spent it on anything at all over the past couple of years. Oh! But what of her brothers? They surely weren’t going to simply let her go with a stranger. Especially a knight and one without a lord at that. Well…. That might make him just a wee bit more acceptable in their eyes, but not much. Sir Marcus had protected her. That also had to count for something, did it not? There more she talked, the more she thought, the more hope flooded her being and overflowed to her eyes. For the first time in the past few years when this yearning had taken hold, she was starting to believe there was hope that she could become what she was not. A true Lady.

 

[marauder13]

Marcus was pleased to see her rouse herself quickly. She got herself upright, adjusting her clothes and buckled her sword on her belt. He saw the confidence in her movements, the surety of her actions. Her brothers had taught her well.

“Let me go wash up and I’ll be right back.”

He nodded to her as she disappeared into the trees, vanishing quickly amongst the undergrowth. Marcus looked back at Granthum, an eyebrow cocked. "She is good in the woods, isn't she?"

Granthum looked at him, then went back to cropping some of the grass.

Marcus saw Ashlin return, dropping down cross legged on his bedroll. She adjusted the position of the sword for her to sit better. Marcus found the spoon, putting it into the bowl, and carried it over to Ashlin. As he approached, he saw she was gazing at him, her eyes not straying as she seemed to work her bottom lip.

“Sir Marcus…”

"Your breakfast, Lady Ashlin." He placed the bowl on the ground beside her. He went back to beside the fire, lifting the pot off the flame, before turning his attention back to the younger woman. He could see she was lost in thought. Marcus was wondering if it had to do with the talk of the previous night; of Ashlin's desire to become a Lady of station. He kept his peace, waiting to see what she would eventually speak about.

“Sir Marcus, would you consider teaching me what I need to know?”

Her voice started rough, but after clearing, she spoke clear and strong. He was surprised at the strength of her voice when she asked him. It became clear to him that this was a desire firmly lodged within the young woman's heart, and not some whimsical flight of fancy. But her natural courage gave way more to fear of some kind which gave her words great haste as they rushed forth like panicked horses stampeding from a burning stable.

“You’ve been subjected to the ways of a noble’s court. You have been around the ladies there. You’ve traveled, seen things I am sure. You said you could introduce me to a noble’s court and no one would ever suspect I was not a lady. Oh please, Sir Marcus, do consider it, will you? Perhaps we will even find you a lord to serve under while we’re about it.”

He thought her eyes were striking prior to that moment, but they took on a life of their own while she spoke. They seemed to speak as well, as if her very soul ran forth to the windows to beckon to him to listen to her words, and give them the fullest weight possible.

He looked at her eyes with his own brown eyes, locking them for a good minute. He then slowly looked her over, sizing her up and inspecting her as closely as he could in her current garb and pose. He brought his hand up to rub the rough, black stubble upon his chin.

"Are you sure of this, Lady Ashlin? It will mean leaving your brothers. Men who have raised you from a babe, the only people you truly know, to go off with a stranger to chase a dream. Will you tell them? And if they object, and want you to stay? It may not be easy, and it may require you doing things you may find you do not like. Are you ready to do everything you need to do to make this dream become real?

"I promise you, Lady Ashlin, that I will not take advantage of you, or impose myself on you if we travel together. I feel very confident that you will be able to deter me, or any other man, who wishes to do such with you when you are not agreeable.

"But you will have to pay your way on most matters. Dresses, shoes, jewels. Those items I can not pay for. Though I am certain we can find ways for you to earn coin in ways that are not degrading to you."

He paused, letting his words hang in the air for a few moments.

"What do you say, Lady Ashlin, are you willing to undertake this journey with me?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Ash didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. She watched him studying her, his hand rubbing against his chin, eyes thoughtful. Was he truly considering it? She would be ever so grateful, but she couldn’t help but wonder why. He had his own troubles to worry about. In Ash’s mind, that weighed far more than a girl’s dream.

"Are you sure of this, Lady Ashlin? It will mean leaving your brothers. Men who have raised you from a babe, the only people you truly know, to go off with a stranger to chase a dream. Will you tell them? And if they object, and want you to stay? It may not be easy, and it may require you doing things you may find you do not like. Are you ready to do everything you need to do to make this dream become real?

I promise you, Lady Ashlin, that I will not take advantage of you, or impose myself on you if we travel together. I feel very confident that you will be able to deter me, or any other man, who wishes to do such with you when you are not agreeable.

But you will have to pay your way on most matters. Dresses, shoes, jewels. Those items I can not pay for. Though I am certain we can find ways for you to earn coin in ways that are not degrading to you."

“So you’re willing to do it then, Sir Marcus?”

The hope flared in her eyes, then dimmed. Jewels. She hadn’t thought of those. Her eyes lowered from his face and studied the ground. It was no use. She didn’t have the kind of money it took to purchase jewels. A few dresses and shoes, maybe but jewels? No. She had a set of earrings and a necklace that Tuck had given her on her sixteen birthday. He said they had belonged to her mother. She never wore them. They sat wrapped in a cloth tucked into a bag that held her belongings, what little there were but they were all she had.

“This is not going to work. Tis a stupid idea. Jewels,” she lifted her eyes to his face again, “I forgot. I have but a necklace and a set of earrings. Tuck says they belonged to my mother. One needs more than that, do they not? Dresses, shoes, stockings. I have enough money for a few, I think but not many. How many of such things does a Lady need, Sir Marcus?” She was quiet a moment, “Oh… and reticules as well. Sir Marcus, how will we accomplish it all? As for my brothers, they want the best for me. Whatever makes me happy. Now Tucker? Tucker may be a problem.”

Tuck had been the one to do so much for her. He was the one who had practically raised her, held her, took care of her when she was sick. He had tended to her small wounds growing up. Of them all, she was closest to Tucker. Of them all, she would miss Tucker the most. Yet, despite those feelings, this was something she felt driven to do. Ash did not understand it. It simply was. Determination glimmered in her eyes.

“Yes, Sir Marcus. I want this. I need to do this. I do not understand why. But it is something I must do. Even if I do not know how we're going to accomplish it.”

 

[marauder13]

“So you’re willing to do it then, Sir Marcus?”

So much hope flowed through her words, Marcus thought his heart would break under the strain. He made his offer to her, and she was still uncertain, yet hopeful. The dream was strong, but she felt the cold hand of doubt clutching her heart.

The light died in her eyes before they fell to the earth before her feet. Marcus pondered what was said, or thought, that snuffed out the brilliance that shone so clearly moments before. Was her dream so fragile that it shattered so easily? Perhaps it was something that was truly beyond her. Marcus doubted it. Ashlin appeared to be a woman of determination and courage who had strength to see through anything her heart truly desired.

'Familiar qualities, no?'

“This is not going to work. Tis a stupid idea. Jewels. I forgot. I have but a necklace and a set of earrings. Tuck says they belonged to my mother. One needs more than that, do they not? Dresses, shoes, stockings. I have enough money for a few, I think but not many. How many of such things does a Lady need, Sir Marcus? Oh… and reticules as well. Sir Marcus, how will we accomplish it all? As for my brothers, they want the best for me. Whatever makes me happy. Now Tucker? Tucker may be a problem.”

Marcus remembered the name, made sure that if they met, he took special care not to hurt that one too much, and definitely not kill him. But even as she spoke of that one bandit, there was a change in her eyes once again. The fire was returning, but rather than a roaring blaze, it was more the smithies flame. Marcus knew what Ashlin had decided, and needn't heard her words.

“Yes, Sir Marcus. I want this. I need to do this. I do not understand why. But it is something I must do. Even if I do not know how we're going to accomplish it.”

"Well, Granthum, it seems our course is set. We are going to head back along the road we have traveled, and do our best to find Lady Ashlin's brothers and inform them that their little sister is leaving them to follow her own fate. Let us hope that they are agreeable with her decision, and choice of traveling companions."

He turned back to face Ashlin. "Before we do much else, you need to eat, and I need to break camp. Which will mean you need to get off my bed roll."

~||~​

Marcus sat Ashlin in front of himself on Granthum as he walked back to the best place to meet Ashlin's brothers. About half a mile before they reached the site of where they fought together, Marcus loosened the blade in its scabbard. He was sure that Ashlin knew he did it, but he was not going to say anything about it.

Granthum dropped his head when they go to the battle site, and Marcus brought his steed to a halt. He looked around carefully, trusting his horse's senses better than his own.

"If you be Ashlin's brothers, please step out such that we may speak like sensible men rather than create a mess that could see some people ending up dead that might otherwise live."

One man broke cover, stepping out onto the road far enough to be clearly seen by the riders. Marcus saw a man who was a bandit, older than most, but he had an air about him of one who had been around long enough to know how to see the end of the day.

Ashlin saw Tucker.

"Where have you been? Get away from that knight, right now!"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He was going to do it! Ash was pretty sure neither of them had a clue how all the puzzle pieces were going to fit together, but hopefully, they would. They had to.

"Before we do much else, you need to eat, and I need to break camp. Which will mean you need to get off my bed roll."

Ash had the presence of mind to scoop up the bowl he had brought her before she scrambled off his bedroll and perched on an outcrop of rocks to eat her fill. She watched him roll and put his bedroll on Granthum. She hopped down from the rock , taking her bowl and his down to the stream she had found earlier to wash them. That little chore didn’t take her long to complete. Ash brought them back, handing them over to Sir Marcus and watched him tucked them away in his pack. Between the two of them, the area they had camped in last night was once again as it had been.

Ashlin had expected to walk but Sir Marcus had surprised her by lifting her up on his horse before he joined her, sitting behind her. She started to say something and just closed her mouth. They weren’t far from where the men tried to take her and steal from Sir Marcus. She felt him loosen his blade and it was a smart move on his part, she had to admit. Granthum stopped, his head bowing. Ash could feel the tension starting to form between her shoulder blades as she looked around.

"If you be Ashlin's brothers, please step out such that we may speak like sensible men rather than create a mess that could see some people ending up dead that might otherwise live."

Tucker slipped from the woods like a wraith in the dead of night. Her eyes lit up and a smile formed on her lips as she saw him. Both were soon wiped from her features as his words came gruffly.

"Where have you been? Get away from that knight, right now!"

“Tucker, no!”

Ash slipped from Granthum’s back before Sir Marcus could even dismount. She covered the ground between herself and her brother, swiftly, placing herself between them.

“You and the boys will not steal from Sir Marcus. Please, listen to me. He saved my life, Tucker.”

She peered around him, knowing her other brothers were not far away and hoped her voice carried to them.

“All of you. Please. I know how you feel about knights and nobles, ladies and gentry but this man saved my life. Surely that is more than enough reason to leave him be. We were set upon by a small band of thieves and they were going to….” She swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing, “take me with them, Tucker or probably worse than that, right there, in the road, in front of Sir Marcus. We fought them, Sir Marcus, Granthum and I. Well, until I turned around the one I maimed decided to punch me and knocked me out. Sir Marcus was generous enough to see to me. He took me away from there, made camp, watched over me and fed me. He was, is, a noble knight, Tucker.”

While she spoke, Tucker made a move to evade her, to move around her and she wasn’t having it. Her hand planted firmly on his chest with as much force as she could muster, stepping with him. She wasn’t all that surprised when he stopped suddenly and she heard a low growl emit from Tucker at the mention of the thieves taking her. He looked at her sharply, assessingly. The air about him was like that of a caged beast. Calm for the moment, but coiled, ready to strike when least expected. He looked over Ashlin’s head to the knight, giving him the once over and then nodded.

“My thanks, knight.”

Tucker’s voice was reluctant. Tense. Terse even. The pressure of Ash’s hand on his chest lessened though her hand remained where it was, making Tucker look down at her. The concern in his eyes plain to any to see.

“We shuld go.”

Ash glanced over her shoulder at Sir Marcus then back at Tucker. Her other brothers materialized behind the knight.

“He comes with us Tucker,” Tucker was shaking his head, “Yes, Tuck. He and I…. well, we have something to talk with you and the boys about. “

The rest of her brothers were grumbling now too. It made Ashlin’s temper flare. Snatching her hand away from Tuck’s chest, she stomped her foot, first glaring at Tuck then whirling around to glare at her other brothers.

“You boys come away from behind Sir Marcus. Now. And yes, we owe him hospitality. He showed me some last night. We will return the favor. “

Ashlin’s tone brooked no argument. She strode back over to Sir Marcus and stood by his side, looking up at him.

“Sir Marcus, my brothers and I would like to extend our hospitality of fire and hearth for the night.”

After speaking, she turned her head to glare at her brothers.

“Don’t we boys?”

 

[marauder13]

When the first of her brothers step out, Marcus felt Ashlin ease a little, until he spoke. She tensed immediately.

“Tucker, no!”

She wasgone in a moment, running swiftly until she was before the giant of a man, her seemingly tiny hand in the middle of his chest, halting him as if it were the hand of one of the Gods themselves.

“You and the boys will not steal from Sir Marcus. Please, listen to me. He saved my life, Tucker.”

Marcus remained in his saddle, calm and unmoved, letting Ashlin deal with the men she knew better than he did. They were in their element, and with Ashlin's safety at risk, he wasn't going to risk starting a fight with them. She would more than likely side with them if it came to blows, and he didn't wish to cause her any harm. She turned her head as she spoke, obvious that her other brothers were near enough to hear her voice.

“All of you. Please. I know how you feel about knights and nobles, ladies and gentry but this man saved my life. Surely that is more than enough reason to leave him be. We were set upon by a small band of thieves and they were going to… take me with them, Tucker or probably worse than that, right there, in the road, in front of Sir Marcus. We fought them, Sir Marcus, Granthum and I. Well, until I turned around the one I maimed decided to punch me and knocked me out. Sir Marcus was generous enough to see to me. He took me away from there, made camp, watched over me and fed me. He was, is, a noble knight, Tucker.”

Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears where Tucker was concerned. Marcus saw the look of hatred in the man's eyes. he wanted to hurt Marcus before killing him. It was the look of a father protecting his daughter. Even as he moved to step around Ashlin, she moved to stop him. He could have easily brushed her aside, yet he never touched her. The man was ready to strike at any moment, if given the right reason, and this mere slip of a girl was holding him at bay without any sign of fear.

Marcus' opinion of this one man shifted dramatically. Bandit or thief, that he held this woman so strongly in his heart showed him to be a man of noble stature greater than many of those that carried a formal title. He held great respect for anyone who raised a child, but for a man to do so more or less alone... that was a great achievement.

Tucker looked over Ashlin straight at Marcus. Marcus sat calmly through the gaze that covered him from head to foot. Then the gaze returned to Marcus' eyes and the bandit nodded.

“My thanks, knight.”

Marcus nodded back. "It was my honour, Tucker. You have raised a fine woman."

He spoke to Ashlin, telling her they should go. The others broke cover behind him, though they made no moves against him. He was aware of where everyone was standing, and he was already planning his escape from the meeting should matters turn sour.

“He comes with us Tucker. Yes, Tuck. He and I…. well, we have something to talk with you and the boys about.”

“You boys come away from behind Sir Marcus. Now. And yes, we owe him hospitality. He showed me some last night. We will return the favor.”

Even as Tucker shook his head, Ashlin carried on as if their arguments meant nothing. She walked back to stand beside Marcus, looking up at him still seated on his mount as he looked at Tucker.

“Sir Marcus, my brothers and I would like to extend our hospitality of fire and hearth for the night.”

Ashlin paused to give her brothers a look that told them exactly how she felt about the answer they would give.

“Don’t we boys?”

"It is a very kind offer that you are making, Ashlin, but if Tucker and his 'brothers' don't feel up to extending their hospitality to someone like myself, I don't want them to feel forced into doing so. I know you are trying to do the right thing, Ashlin, but I fear you are going about it the wrong way.

"Tucker, what Ashlin said is true. She was going to rob me, but other bandits were going to rob me, and take her away. She was laid low in the fight at my side, and when the other cowards fled the field, I took her to a safe place and tended to her until she was fit to travel. I don't care that she intended to rob me, because she chose to fight at my side. That earned my respect, in turn my assistance, which is why we are here now.

"I bear you, and your brothers no ill will, and due to Ashlin, I will not remember that you are here when pressed by others about this road. Yes, there are some matters that Ashlin, and myself, would like to speak to you about, but only if you are willing to allow me to come with you. Not under duress from Ashlin."

Marcus felt Tucker's eyes boring into him. He felt the man weighing his words against himself. Marcus' actions against what Marcus stood for. Tucker looked at Ashlin, then back at Marcus. He shook his head as he pushed his lips tightly together.

"It goes against everything... but if you stray more that five paces from Ashlin, we'll kill you."

"You have my word, that while Ashlin does not need to be alone, I will remain within five paces of her. In those times she needs to be alone, I shall remain within five paces of you, Tucker. I thank you for the trust you are showing me. I shall show you that it is not misplaced."

He slowly slid off Granthum, Taking the reins, and moving up beside Ashlin. He politely waited as the bandits split into two different groups; one in lead, and one following Marcus and Ashlin. They headed into the forest, MArcus keeping quiet and staying close to Ashlin as he followed them back to the bandit's home.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her strides, such as they were for someone who did not have long legs, were marked seething anger, barely contained under the surface. For men in general. Stubborn. Arrogant. Impossible to deal with. Yet, women tolerated them and Ash, right then and there, wondered why. In the end, the men struck an uneasy compromise. Sir Marcus was her shadow. As she strode past Tucker, she threw him a look that silently yet pointedly said she would deal with him later. As for Sir Marcus, she bit her tongue. Would mark her time. She needed him.

The journey to their base camp didn’t take long. Ashlin went straight to her tent to leave her weapons upon her bedroll and to swiftly change her clothing before she set about putting their mid-day meal on to cook. Her brothers had managed to get their hands on a chicken. It was hanging by its feet from a nearby branch completely gutted and defeathered. Taking up a wicked looking knife, she cut it down and started hacking it into pieces. She was fuming and the poor dead chicken was getting the brunt of it.

Sir Marcus should never have said a thing. The boys knew the code. They were the ones who taught it to her. It didn’t matter how they felt about knights or gentry. The code was the code, damn it. Parts of the chicken were severed from its body then picked up and tossed into a kettle. It wasn’t long before root vegetables joined the pot, then water.

“Walter,” she called over her shoulder, cleaning up her mess, “ put the pot over the fire for me please?”

She usually asked Tucker to do such things for her, but she was still fuming, though by now, her temper was under control. Her eyes turned in Sir Marcus’ direction.

“Sir Marcus? Might I offer you a cold ale or perhaps a tankard of cold fresh water?”

She knew her brothers weren’t going to offer him anything at this point. Ash had not expected them to fall over themselves for Sir Marcus but they could be at least polite, at least for their sister’s sake. No telling what those bandits would have done with her. Well, she had a good idea but her mind shied away from those thoughts. She glanced at Tucker who was sitting on the other side of the fire with her brothers, sipping on ale.

“Tucker! This is ridiculous. The man should not have to remain five paces from me at all times. He took care of me and deserves to be a welcomed guest in our camp even grudgingly. “
“He wants to be your savior, he can remain five paces from you.”

Tucker’s voice was gruff and there were snickers from her other brothers, who suddenly found the dregs of their tankards interesting all of a sudden when they encountered her glare. Ash loved Tuck dearly but there were times she could easily beat him over the head with a tree branch. Men! They could act like little spoiled boys from time to time and she wanted to box their ears, all of them, Tucker included. Ash turned her eyes toward Sir Marcus with an apologetic look residing within them as she waited for his reply.

 

[marauder13]

Marcus kept his distance as he stated, and made no move that could be seen as threatening to any of Ashlin's brothers. He could feel the anger boiling of the young woman, and was glad that he was not in Tucker's boots when she turned her attention his way as she stormed passed him. He also couldn't blame the man for flinching slightly when she did.

True to his word, when Ashlin made for her tent, Marcus moved close to Tucker. The large man was about to tell Marcus off, when the knight merely nodded to the tent Ashlin disappeared into. The man grunted and held his ground. Marcus remained exactly five paces from the bandit, waiting patiently while the other men watched on, expecting a fight to start at any moment.

As soon as he saw her leave her tent, Tucker started to turn and walk away from the Knight. Marcus headed back toward the young woman as if nothing was wrong.

Marcus watched as Ashlin took her fury out on the partially prepared fowl, internally wincing at the way she hacked the poor creature's remains apart. He started to wonder how much of a temper she had. Either way, it was going to be something they would have to work on controlling. A lady never lost her temper in such a fashion as Ashlin had done. At least, not in polite society, or social functions. Marcus was pleased to see that even with her anger boiling as it was, she still managed to remain focused on her task at hand. The cut up bird and vegetables were soon all in the pot, and she was cleaning up the remains of her brutal chopping efforts.

“Walter, put the pot over the fire for me please?”

Walter took a look at Tucker, the surprise clear on Walter's face. Tucker shrugged, and nodded towards where Ashlin was working. With an air of reluctance, Walter stood up and went over to grab the pot. As he did, he gave Marcus a cold stare. He placed the pot over the fire and resumed his place with the rest of the bandits.

“Sir Marcus? Might I offer you a cold ale or perhaps a tankard of cold fresh water?”

Marcus was starting to rethink his decision to come to their camp. It was clear that his presence was causing a great deal of trouble, and that was something that he didn't want to cause for Ashlin.

“Tucker! This is ridiculous. The man should not have to remain five paces from me at all times. He took care of me and deserves to be a welcomed guest in our camp even grudgingly.”

“He wants to be your savior, he can remain five paces from you.”

Tucker's voice grated on Marcus' ears, and the snickers that came from the rest of them were as salt on the raw wounds upon his ears. He felt pity for Ashlin, but he knew that if she was aware of it, she would scorn him for feeling that for her. Her pride would not permit it.

"I'm sorry, Ashlin, but I will make leave of this camp and not cause any more trouble between you and your brothers. I shall wait by the road, and you can inform me of your decision once you have spoken with them."

He turned his attention to the other bandits, who looked confused at what Marcus had mentioned. "Ashlin spoke highly of you all, calling you her brothers. Yet, I see men who look on this woman not as a sister, only as a servant. And a poorly respected one at that."

"Shut your mouth, Knight!" Tucker launched himself to his feet.

"Why should I? You have shown no concern for Ashlin's health or safety since her return, and only begrudgingly thanked the one who saved her, and brought her back to you. You have set her to work, and done naught to help her."

"Keep it up, you noble born bastard, and -"

"That is where you are wrong, Tucker. A knight I am, but I have not a drop of noble blood flows through these veins. Plus, there is no doubting my parentage as my father and mother were wed to each other well before I was born.

"Are you really the kind of man that would raise a babe to a full grown woman, or are you nothing more than a lowlife robber who couldn't make it in the city? Think very carefully before you act, Tucker. Now, because of the woman you raised, Tucker, this woman here," Marcus pointed to Ashlin, "I wont remember where this camp is once I reach the road. Don't you, or any of her brothers, do anything that will make me remember where it is."

Marcus walked to Granthum and picked up his reins. The two of them started moving toward the track that would return them to the road.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her temper simmered just under her skin. Ash’s eyes flashed between her brothers and the knight. Her lips tightened into a straight line. Anger. Disappointment. Both melded into her look. It was enough to make her decide, right then and there. She had thought this would be a much more difficult decision to make, but it hadn’t been. Squaring her shoulders, Ash marched over to Tucker.

“Tucker, you know I love you and I will never be able to thank you and the boys for taking me in and raising me. You all, “ her eyes moved from one face to another before coming back to Tucker, “will always hold a special place in my heart, but your hatred separates us. I’m leaving, Tucker. I’m going with Sir Marcus. There are things I want to learn that I can’t learn by being here. I can not explain it, but something is pushing me to be more. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you all.”

Tears filled her eyes and threatened to fall as she looked up at Tucker. She stretched out her arms and embraced Tucker, hugging him fiercely. Her head barely reached the middle of his chest. He stood stiffly in her embrace for a moment before his arms came out to surround her, hugging the slim girl to him tightly. His cheek rested on the top of her head.

“I love you, Tucker. You will always be my brother. Always. Please don’t forget me.”

She whispered against his chest, her voice choking. It almost broke Tucker’s heart. He wanted to yell. He wanted to tell her that she was not going to go anywhere. He knew that he would not do either of those things. Something deep inside him told him it was time to let her go. There had been times when they had talked together late at night while the others slept. He knew what had been plaguing her for the past few years and knew it was not something she could find with them. They stood on the other side of the law. She wished to reside within it. Tucker looked up and over at the departing knight.

“Knight! Hold.”

The rest of the boys behind them were starting to fuss. With Ash still locked in his arms, Tucker turned slightly to glare at them and growl.

“Shut up, the lot of you.”

Tucker turned back to the girl he held and raised since infancy. His arms tightened around her as he found his voice and spoke gruffly.

“One part of me wants to refuse to let you go, especially with a knight of all people. Most of me understands. Be careful, little Ash. It is a cold cruel world and I do not want it to swallow you up.”

It took her a moment to be able to look up at him, her eyes swimming in unshed tears.

“I think Sir Marcus will insure that it does not.”

They just stood there a moment before he squeezed her tighter than let his arms fall away from her.

“Go. Pack your things. I want a few words with your knight.”

Ash cast a quick glance over at Sir Marcus who was standing with Granthum. Then she dashed off to her tent to pack what little belongings she had into a sack. Her lithe form disappeared between the tent flaps. In the meanwhile, Tucker moved toward Sir Marcus and when he got close enough, began to speak.

“I do not like this, knight. I do not know you. This is what Ash wants. You take care of her or I will come looking for you and do what I should have done the moment I set eyes on you.”

 

[marauder13]

“Knight! Hold.”

Marcus came to a stop, turning his head to look back at Tucker. He saw the enormous man enveloping Ashlin in a hug that threatened to crush the young woman. But he could see in the man's face a sadness and a pain that only a father could have. Behind them, the other men were starting to look a little unsure of themselves, and making some noise. Tucker turned slightly, taking Ashlin with him. Marcus was glad he wasn't on the end of the look he gave his fellow bandits, as well as the dressing down.

“Shut up, the lot of you.”

The two spoke quietly, Marcus chose not to listen to them, making a little noise to cover what little of their voices made it to his ears. There were some things that he felt needed to remain private between family, and not intruded on by the likes of people such as himself.

He caught the quick glance from Ashlin before she ran off to her tent. Marcus stood still as Tucker slowly walked over closer.

“I do not like this, knight. I do not know you. This is what Ash wants. You take care of her or I will come looking for you and do what I should have done the moment I set eyes on you.”

"Tucker, if anything happens to her, you wont have the chance to do anything to me, for I will be beyond the reach of any mortal. You'll have to pray and hope a God hears you and looks favourably on your prayers. I'm different from any other knight you'll ever meet, Tucker. I doubt that any other knight would have spoken to you, they would have gone straight into a fight. I talked to you because I know what you're going through."

"Bah! What would you know of a life like mine?"

"I know what it's like to take the food off another's table so that I don't starve to death. I have fought off people to keep a blanket so I didn't freeze through the winter. I may be a knight now, Tucker, but I wasn't always someone who was deemed worthy of wearing the title."

"Then why do you?"

"Because someone else thought I was."

Marcus' gaze shifted to the tent where Ashlin reappeared from. Marcus removed his gauntlet and extended his hand to Tucker, who looked at it as if it was the head of a venomous snake.

"I'll do all within my power to grant her what she wishes, and protect her while she is my companion. On this I swear."

Tucker looked Marcus in the eye, and nodded slightly. With reluctance, he took Marcus' hand, pumping it twice. Tucker turned and walked back to Ashlin, hugging her once more, kissing her forehead while his eyes were closed.

"Good bye, Ashlin. Never forget me, either."

He let go of her, walking over to rejoin his fellow bandits, his back to Ashlin so she wouldn't see the tears streaming down his face as she left his life.

Marcus waited for Ashlin to come along side, and not saying a further word, walked with her down to the road. He turned to the direction he was originally traveling, slowly walking while he looked straight ahead. They walked for close to half an hour before Marcus stopped.

"With luck, and if Granthum is willing, we should make it to a coaching tavern before the sunsets. It will make the first part of our travels a little easier for us, I think. Would you prefer to ride in front, or behind me?"

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She almost lost the courage of her convictions. Walking away from Tucker was proving to be the hardest thing in her life to do. Oh, she cared about the others too, but Tucker….. his kiss on her forehead almost felt like a benediction as well as a good-bye. Tears choked her throat and flooded her eyes. She would never forget. Never. He was the man who raised her.

Sir Marcus was waiting for Ash and with leaden feet, she moved along side of him. She couldn’t look back. If she did, she knew she wouldn’t have left him. It wasn’t Tucker’s fault. He gave her the best life he had to give, but deep down, she knew this wasn’t the life for her. Taking a deep breath, Ash fell into step with the knight. She surreptitiously wiped away the tears that fell as they walked, hoping Sir Marcus didn’t notice. They walked in quiet, each to their own thoughts for about a half hour before the good knight stopped and spoke. By then, Ash felt like she could face the world again even though her heart was sore.

"With luck, and if Granthum is willing, we should make it to a coaching tavern before the sunsets. It will make the first part of our travels a little easier for us, I think. Would you prefer to ride in front, or behind me?"

She glanced at him then to the horse. Her eyes were thoughtful.

“I’ll ride behind you, Sir Marcus. Just in case we run into trouble.”

Ashlin’s voice was subdued. Was it so wrong of her to have left the only family she had ever known just under an hour ago and some part of her, a greater part, if she would only admit it, was looking forward to this new adventure. Sir Marcus was a stranger. He could be telling her any number of lies for his own nefarious reasons. A possibility? Yes. However, Ash had taken his measure in fighting and in general. There was something inherently good about him. It shone from him like a beacon. The darkness in men had a tendency to hide, to be sneaky. She still didn’t understand why he chose to help her but he made her wish a possibility. Ash quietly stood at his side and waited for him to mount up and offer her an arm so she could mount behind him. For come what may, they were in this together.

 

[marauder13]

During their walk, prior to Marcus breaking the silence, Ashlin seemed deep in thought. He wondered if she was questioning her decision, wondering if she could go back to them and rejoin them if she changed her mind.

But with the words spoken, and the question posed, Ashlin took her time before answering.

“I’ll ride behind you, Sir Marcus. Just in case we run into trouble.”

He smiled a little, nodding to her. He heard her lingering doubt in her voice, the worry about the decision made and whether the wisdom was truly there in her choice. He was much younger than she was when he made the same decision to leave his family. But he never said goodbye, he just left them and never returned. He would be very surprised if she wasn't frightened to some measure, but then, she had courage which she had shown more times than he could count in the short time he had known her. That courage would be tested, but he was confident that it would see her through the challenges that were before her, many of them completely unknown to her.

Marcus hauled himself up into the saddle, settling himself then extending his hand to Ashlin. He easily lifted her behind him. He took some time to adjust his cloak, making it pad his rear breastplate for her so she didn't have to rest against its hard surface.

It took the barest of touches from Marcus' feet to get Granthum moving. The horse started at a walk, getting himself used to the extra weight while he warmed himself up for the day's travels.

"Ashlin, I must commend you on your courage, and on your trust. Tis not an easy thing to leave your family to follow your heart's calling. It does take great strength to do. Also, we have known each other for a little time, and for a young lass like yourself to place great trust in a relative stranger, even a Knight, honours me greatly. Since we are going to make you into a lady of station, I shall treat you as such. Meaning, from here on, I shall not do anything that dishonours you, and I shall treat you with the respect you deserve."

There was a slight pause while Marcus scanned the trees either side of the road. Even though he was confident the road was safe where they were, old habits asserted themselves fiercely.

"I would also like to thank you for the chance to have a companion who I will be able to hold decent conversations with. Granthum is a good companion, an excellent listener and giver of sound advice, but he doesn't add much to a good conversation."


They made good time, reaching a coaching inn an hour before night fall. Marcus helped Ashlin down first, then dismounted. The stable boy came out, slowing down and looking at Granthum with a mixture of fear and awe.

Marcus laughed. "Never fear, lad. Granthum has never hurt a stable boy who knew their trade well enough. He's had a hard day's ride, so he should be easy to deal with."

"Thank you, Sir Knight. The other one's steed is a little energetic."

Marcus was pulling down his travel bags when he heard reference to another Knight being present. The chances were high of him being one of his old brother knights, which could make their stay tense. But being honourable men, the matter wouldn't get out of hand.

"Ashlin, could you go inside and see what food is available, and see if you can find us somewhere to sit to eat? I'll take care of the lodgings and other matters."

'And see if I can find out which knight is here so I can better prepare for the trouble that will surely follow.'

 

[DarkWarrioress]

They reached the inn, Sir Marcus spoke of. After helping her down, the knight dismounted, turning Granthum over to a stable boy. Ash took that time and looked around at her surroundings.

"Ashlin, could you go inside and see what food is available, and see if you can find us somewhere to sit to eat? I'll take care of the lodgings and other matters."

His voice drew her eyes back to him. Sir Marcus was in the process of taking his travel bags off of his horse.

“Of course, Sir Marcus.”

Ash hurried inside the building. She stopped just inside the door. Her eyes darted around the room. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she strode toward the inn keeper, side stepping tables and people. Her questions for the inn keeper did not take long. She reassured him that her companion would be joining her soon. The serving wench could find them…. She paused to look around then pointed to a table close to the door… over there.

Ashlin thanked the inn keep for his help then went to claim the table she had found. Sitting down on the wooden bench, she kept her eyes fastened on the door, waiting for Sir Marcus to appear. She started to silently fret. What if he had abandoned her here? She was just a stranger after all. What if he had changed his mind and decided not to travel with her? Could she even find her way back to her brothers? Would they still consider her their sister after she had chosen the knight over them? Her fingers tapped on the wooden surface of the trestle table she sat at. What was taking him so long? In truth, it had not been long at all, but to Ash, it was an eternity.

At the other end of the trestle table two men sat down. There was plenty of distance between her and them. From the corner of her eye she saw them continuously glance in her direction.

Oh please Sir Marcus. Hurry.