The Barbarian's Lady

Part 7

Delilah wasn't sure how far she had traveled. It was mid-morning the next day when she finally drew Lancelot to a stop at a nearby stream. The strong war-horse deserved some much needed rest and recuperation. Delilah had studied maps of the area in her father's solar before planning this venture and she knew if she followed the paths that led along the base of the mountain she should reach the coastal town, Brighton, in two or three days time. Her entire body ached, but she knew she must push on, only to put as much distance from her father as possible.

Taking a small bite of cheese and smoked, dried meat from her satchel, Delilah stood and walked to the stream for a drink of water. She had never traveled alone like this before and the further away she got from her castle home, the lighter she felt. All her duties and responsibilities were behind her. While frightening, this thought made her feel as if she could fly. Kneeling down, Delilah scooped up a handful of clear water and took a drink. Wetting her hand, Delilah tensed at the cold feeling as she poured the remaining water from her hand down her back. The coolness of the water as it slid down her back rejuvenated Delilah and she bit her lip thoughtfully. Is it wrong to be happy now that I am far from my family and home?

Delilah looked all about and sighed at how peaceful this forest river was. The snap of a tree behind her sounded and Delilah swung about, her dagger pulled from its sheath, at the ready. During the night, every noise had set Delilah's senses into overdrive. Anyone or anything could be lurking in the woods, hidden from her sight.

When no one appeared and nothing further sounded, Delilah peered deeper into the forest behind her, holding the dagger tightly in her hands as if it were a great sword. She must appear a great warrior if she is ever to scare off marauders.

A low whistle sounded from the trees and Lancelot stopped munching his grass. The horse raised his head and his ears twitched at the whistling sound. Another low whistle sounded and Lancelot answered with a whiny. All at once, her spirited horse trotted off into the wooded thicket, vanishing from sight.

Delilah cried out in alarm instantly as her horse disappeared into the trees. Congratulations, Delilah. One day into your travels and you've already lost your horse. Stupid animal!

Letting out a frustrated groan, Delilah huffed and moved forward, after her horse, all the while yelling his name. "Lancelot, no! Come back!"

Racing into the wooded thicket, Delilah emerged into another enclosed clearing and gasped as her eyes widened at the sight before her. It was if she was back on those cliffs watching the barbarian man pet and sooth her horse. He was standing there running his hands over Lancelot as if he owned the horse. This time, however, his eyes were directly focused on her form emerging from the forest brush.

Delilah was ready for him this time though and held up her dagger ordering the hulking barbarian. "Get away from my horse." To her horse she ordered, "Lancelot, come here now."

Her stubborn horse didn't so much as look at her and the barbarian man's lips turned up in a grin. He was obviously enjoying her horses display of disobedience. Delilah trembled at the man's impudent grin as his hands slid down Lancelot's neck and along his back. As he did this he slowly strode down the length of her horse, making his way closer and closer to her.

Do I run and leave the horse? What about all of my supplies? Run! Delilah, run now!

Her feet wouldn't listen to her brain and the barbarian man kept drawing closer, seeming to enjoy his intimidation. Delilah whimpered as the man crept closer to her, his lower abdomen was now pressed against the tip of her jeweled blade. With just a hint of pressure, Delilah was sure she could run him through. When she made to sink the blade further against his lower chest, but found, she couldn't. Delilah's eyes welled with unshed tears at her own weakness. The barbarian's icy eyes were entrapping hers again and she felt like a little deer caught by a hungry wolf.

Like a grass snake, his hand jumped out and grasped her wrist that held the dagger tightly. Giving it a soft squeeze, he caused her to drop the blade. The jeweled blade fell to the ground with a soft thud and seemed to shimmer in the ankle high grass. Gasping in pain, Delilah panicked and turned away from him. As she squirmed in his grasp, the barbarian had the gall to laugh at her attempts.

His free hand groped for her neck and when his fingers lightly made contact with her pulsing skin Delilah froze. His fingers delved into her thick hair as he brushed away her strands of her hair from her neck. He seemed to stare at her neck for what seemed like hours. His eyes sharpened as he let out a grunting sound, which resembled a curse. Delilah couldn't stop the trembles as the barbarian shouted into the woods behind her and the trampling sounds of others force Delilah to turn away from her barbarian captor.

Delilah's eyes widened and her body shook fearfully as another barbarian appeared. This man, however, was covered in scars and black ink. The black ink trailed up his arms and chest, stopping just below his neck. When Delilah's eyes reached this new barbarian's face, she let out a cry of fear. The left half of his face was scarred with burns and his left eye was white with blindness. His lips puckered into a sneer at her obvious disgust of his features. Delilah's eyes fluttered as the ground grew close. Then...darkness.