"Girl" by Jason Conrad Ritenour

            As if frozen in time the light seemed to just slide off the blade from the handle clear along slightly dented edges too the sparkling pinnacle of the high held weapon. The ridges etched within the hilt pressed hard upon her fingers. Both hands clinched to handle with such forces as to turn the knuckles the blank white of dead flesh the blood long drawn from it. The young girl could see the man in front of her move slowly ever so slowly as if held in time by the thickness of air. Her chest slowly heaved out a breath of air as the small drops of sweat began to trickle down the side of her cheek. She brought the sword down fast the man in front of her reached for his sword but it was far to slow. As the sword sliced down through the air from the corner of her eye she saw his companion reach and draw his blade. She let her right hand fall from the blade it reached behind her, grasping the knife in her belt, it twisted in to her fingers and on to her palm as her hand grasped deep around it. The sword fell swift upon the man at front it dug deep in to his right shoulder. She could feel the bones crack under the blade as it cut through inch after inch of flesh and carcass. His face lost all color as the shock of his own death became real to his mind he reached up to his now crushed side as if to some how stop the certain death upon him. His companion paid him no glance as he plunged his blade forward at the young actor.  With the knife now secure in her right hand she left fall of the blade in her left as it and its human sheath fell to the ground. To blade of the companion thrust forward toward her chest in effort to only find air. Spinning her body against his outstretched arm she drug the blade deeply across his the tendons of the under elbow. His mouth opened and a cry was let out that awakened the rest of the tavern to the event. The bladed now dropped from his lifeless arm and clattered upon the floor. Although well aware that these sounds were made the attacker heard none of them. She continued to spin against the now screaming mans body until facing his back the small knife crashed deep in to his neck a popping sound created from the suction of the vertebrae his scream muffled to a low gurgle as the blood from the wound filled his throat. Letting the knife slide from her hand she stepped forward she could see the light of the door and turned toward it. Something caught her not a sight but a feeling. Sharp and to the back of her head her forward foot met the ground but held no weight she twisted in malformed angles as her body would fall. Her head felt heavy now and she twisted face first toward the floor. As she feel she saw the two men; such expressions of horror on their faces lying bathed in their own blood waiting for nothing dead to all things. Her vision had all but gone black as her head felt the sting of the floor her last sensations was that of blood sticking to her forehead as she lay there. She would remember no more of the night.

            Oh it burned! Something burned like hot coals. Her senses had not fully returned to her body as the smell of burnt sulfur paced under her nose. He eyes shot open a blurred view of a dimly light room came rushing in. The fuzzy image of a hand moved around in front of her face. Again she was aware of the burning under her nose. She reached with her left arm to push away the hand in front. She felt her arm press against the rope and quickly noticed her bound position. She kicked her feet as she twisted her head to the right, squinted her eyes, and contorted her face. “So she does live.”

“Not for long if I have anything to with it”

“Now now my friend we must not haste, I wish to ask this young girl a question or two.”  Her eyes reopened and the blur of the room faded as she began to focus. She blinked twice as she stared around the room. A small lamp flickered in the far left corner of the room. Its light left much to the imagination. Only the silhouette of the men or women for that matter that filled the room could be seen. A rather round man stood to her forefront she had guessed the he had been the one waving whatever had brought her back the world of the living. A thin man with his right hand set to his side as if griping a knife sat in a chair in the front right corner near the door. In the back corner behind the light a shorter man leaned against the wall. The form of his body could not be seen it was laid in clocks and a hood.

            Suddenly a rush of pain crushed in to the back of her head. She could again feel the bruise on the back of her head from earlier. Her whole head swam in the pain. As the room began to spin again she could feel her self begin to black out. “Oh no you don’t sweet heart I need to talk to yas.” The round man thrust his hand forward again the pungent burning smell became too much. Her head fell the left side of her body and released a mess of things that she had eaten over the last couple of hours. “ Now that’s better isn’t it.” Is hand with drew and she was again able to stay awake. The rounder man to her front pulled a chair in to the dim light and set on it. A spark of light flashed in the room as the man light a match upon the side of his chair. Light caught his face as the match drew towards to connect to the pipe held in his mouth. His face was so rounded and soft. Large eyes drooped over by heavy eyelids. His nose was of great girth large and round the centerpiece of his face.  A brown mustache topped his large lips as they wrapped their way around his pipe. The smoke of the pipe began to filter out in to the room. His voice came out soft and humble yet not unintelligent. “Now my dear it would seem that we have had a rather interesting night wouldn’t you say so?” Her mouth opened but at first attempt words did not fall out. She was still unaware of the things around her. Her pulse began to race as the first bit of fear set in.

            “I’m…I’m not sure. I don’t remember much of anything from the night.” Her words came out half slurred and impaired she still felt dizzy.

            “Well my dear let me see about jarring your mind a bit. Ok” He twisted in his seat and leaned forward. “You came in to a small tavern tonight do you remember that?”

            “Y-yes I do remember that.”

            “The barkeep said you seem a bit worn down and depressed and sat down and asked for something strong.”

            “It had been a long day I had things on my mind not much reason to tie me up.”

            “Shut up wench!” the man form the right corner blurted out as he sprung fort from his chair. As he leaned forward his face fell in to the light. Long and thin, his twisted lips were pressed together with such force that almost all of the color had left them. His eyes were set back into his face thin, but still sharp to all things around him. “We ask the questions you hear me. SO shut up!” His face clinched tight with incredible anger. His unshaven cheeks shook as he stared at her.

            “Now Jeffrey stand back you will get your chance now is my time, ok” The man’s figured slid back out of the light and placed its self again in its chair.  The rounder man turned his head from the one he called Jeffrey and again face her. “ Yes you are quite right dear drinking is something we don’t often tie folks up for around here but we will get to why you are tied up as of yet. Now you had a bit more to drink than you should have didn’t you my dear?”
            “Probably so… Yes”

            “Do you remember two men approaching you my girl?”

            “ Some what a thin one who sat next to me in the bar and a his friend who stood behind me.”

            “Yes that would be them. What did you and these two men talk about?”

            “I don’t remember much something about a job I had to do and hadn’t.”

            “What kind of a job?” The round man seemed to draw interest and leaned forward.

            “Something to do with horses that is all I was sober enough to take in.”

            “Now my dear the barkeep tells that the thinner man set his hand on your arm and you shot of a yell of some awful sorts and pulled your arm away. Do you remember any of that?”

            “Um can’t remember what he said but something on his hand burned my arm. Something like fire.” Drifting thoughts of the night had begun to filter their way back in to her mind.

            “You attacked these men my dear do you-“

            “More like murdered!” Jeffrey stated in a hashed voice.

            “Jeffrey Stop!” the older round man snapped at the man in the corner and then turned back to her. “Do you remember attacking them my dear or why?”

            “Something felt wrong out of place he grabbed my arm it burned I felt danger. Just wanted to get away but he grabbed the front of my shirt and stopped me said I had to be delft with a lose end.” Her speech was stuttered as she pushed in to her mind to find images of the night before. “ C-can’t remember w-why but had to fight back.”

            “I must say for scared and confused you dispatched of to trained men rather quickly. You probably would have made it to the door had it not been for our friend here.” The large man gestured to the man in the left corner he did not move and had not for the whole time she had been awake. He sat there still and quiet. She starred at him but could solve nothing. “He is the one who left you with that nice little lump on your head.”

            “D-did I kill those men.” Her heart raced at a thousand miles a second as sweat began to trickle down from her brow.

            “Oh yes my girl” the man took a long draw from his pipe and pushed the smoke out his nose. His big nostrils funneled the smoke into streams that shot towards the floor. “In quite an effective manor too, those weren’t just yahoos but rather feared men in these parts. Have you ever been in fights before my dear?” The Idea of taking ones life had begun to sink in to her mind.            Her mind began to drift to the night before, at the bar. She could remember now. “My dear?” She snapped out of her daydream and was again aware of the question at hand.

            “One or two but never against men.”

            “Why were you carrying a small sword and a knife?”
            “Every on has to make a living.”
            “You are a thief?”

            “Last time I checked yes.”

            “See, See I told you she was just trash we should kill her now and be done with it”

            “Jeffrey for the last time” The thin man again withdrew to the dark.

            “Well my dear I think have a better understanding of what when on now you will have to excuse me and my rather rude friend we will return shortly.” The large man rose from his chair he turned to the man in the left corner. “ Stay here and watch her.”            Jeffrey opened the door as light flew into the room. The large man took a step towards the door and then turned back into the room. He grabbed the lamp that sat on the table next to her. As he strolled from the room the door closed behind him it was dark everything was dark.

            The clocked man in the corner watched the last bits of light slip from the room as the constable and the two-bit criminal Jeffrey had left the room. His eyes could make out nothing of the room that he had been standing in for over four hours. He could feel the soreness in his muscles as he stood in the corner and had listened to the old man and the yahoo pick at the young girl. Half way through their speech he had found the sound of their voice almost unbearable. It was a gifted blessing to him to have them leave the room. He would need time to prepare and he would need the dark to hide his actions. He leaned back on his heals taking the weight off the staff that his held onto. He stepped toward the girl and leaned close to her he could hear her breathing, short, shallow, she was scared. Sacred he thought to him self, no doubt, so sooner had she woke up then to find her self tied to a chair and informed that she had killed two trained men. Yes he had knocked her in the back of her head to stop her, but not for the reason the constable had believed. Had she taken a step or two more Jeffrey would have gutted her right there in front of every one at the bar and they would not have even questioned him. No he had stopped her in order to keep her out of Jeffrey’s hands. However, the weasel had worked his way in to the questioning just as he suspected he would. The constable was to old and to mild for his position and fearful in over his head. He turned and slid across to the far wall. The young women had been unaware that he had even moved yet more been near her. He placed his back against the right wall, his solder next to the door; his ears drowned out the sounds around him and listened for the sound of the two men’s voices.

“She killed to of my men dammit!”
”What were your men doing with a thief in the first place Jeffrey?”
”How am I supposed to know? I don’t track their every motion.”

“You were in the room maybe you should have.”
”Ok so maybe I should have still that’s not the point she is a thief and has killed two men.”

            “I don’t like the idea of turning this little girl over to you so you can clean up another mess”

            “Little girls don’t kill grown men Constable.”

            “It’s my decision Jeffrey and I will make not make it now. I want to go to be and you should do like wise. I will talk to her again in the morning maybe she can remember more then tell our friend in there to put her in a cell and get him self some rest. Jeffrey do it now!”
            “Yes Constable.” He could hear the old man stomp out of the room and close the door behind him. “I’ll be damned if I’m gunna let this girl tell him what he wants to here.” That was as much as he need to here he slid his hands down the staff to where both met in the middle. He held it vertically with his hands even with his eyes. Thump thump thump his heart rate began to rise. He was more aware of the things around him he could feel the uneven parts of the wooden wall push against his back. The clumping sound of Jeffrey’s shoes grew clear up to the door. As Jeffrey pulled at the door the light from the lamp flew in to the room. “All right the Constable said your done and to let meuhph...” The last words out of his mouth became a mix of blood tongue and scream. The clocked man had caught the shine of his blade as he drew it from its sheath and with one quick movement had planed the butt end of the staff into his teeth. Jeffrey step forward and felt him self began to fall forward. The cloaked man watched Jeffrey fall towards his face before catching by the back of his shirt collar. He pulled the blade from his left side and tossed the now unconscious body forward in to the room. The large thump caught the young girl off guard who was unaware of the events at hand. She let out a muffled scream as the cloaked mans hand clapped over her mouth. She could feel the bindings fall to the floor and her arms move free. The man released his grip on her mouth and grabbed her hand. He moved quickly pulling her from the chair and grabbing the lamp from the wounded mans hand.  He let fall her hand as he turned back towards the room. The young women could see the door. She turned and bolted from his side he feet clumped along the floor as she stumbled toward the closed door. She flung open the door only to run over a guard who had been stirred by her load footsteps.  The guard fell backwards from the doorway hitting the ground hard he dropped his drawn sword. She stumbled and tripped over him falling to his left. Quickly she pushed her self from the dirt and began to run again. She jerked forward to move but fell face to the ground again. Starring back to find her foot held by a half aware guard. “ Not today sweetheart.” He view shifted from the guard to the man above him the cloaked man tossed the open lamp in to man room of the building she had been held in. As it hit the ground flames spread across the floor like a wraith called forth the depths of the under shearing everything they touched. Causally he turned and dropped the end of his staff into the gut of the guard. “Hey-oomph.” The young guard was cut short by the sinking blow to his stomach.  Then we a sweeping motion he caught the confused man under the jaw. The young girl could feel his grip released from about her ankle she again pushed her self from the ground. Still in a state of pure fear she began to run again this time nothing blocked her path.

            Her feet could feel the cold ground as it smacked against her skin. She was only barely aware of the sharp rocks that were scattered along the ground as she run across the center of the town and head for the forest just west of it. She was aware; however, of her missing boots she was not sure where they went but she did not have them now. No matter she was free and was going to get out of here that was all that mattered. She noticed flickering lamps that sat about the trading town. It was a small town mostly filled with humans. It was set at the base of a river, Belos, she remembered. Not a matter now she thought as she paced the sign tell her that she stood at the edge of Calidale and the old forest “The darkness will come for me before I come back to this place.” As she paced the last building of the town she say movement. The people of the town were now aware of the trouble at the building she had been held in. She darted behind the building and stopped for a second. She could here men leaving the building she had just passed.

            “She can’t be far from here find her.”

            “Yes sir.” The men departed she could her there foot steps treat away from her towards what she remembered to be the stables. Her feet again pushed her forward only a pace or two more and she would be in to the thick. He feet could feel the change in the ground as the soft leaves of the trees paced across her feet. She darted quickly through the under growth of forest. Not far ahead of her she could see a break in the forest where the road laid. Cross that and she was free. She breathed heavily as she approached the open road. The heaving of her chest became rhythmic to her motion. Suddenly all rhythm stopped. Her breath chocked as something pulled her from behind. Her feet continued to move forward but her upper body fell back. She could feel the collar of her shirt pull against her throat. He back and butt slammed hard against the ground but something stopped her head from following in their action. A solid hand clapped around her mouth. Her eyes blinked once before coming to focus on the figure above her. The cloaked man, but how, where had he come from? This question soon left her mind as the clamor of horse hooves filled the air. Three armed guards flew down the open road. Had she tried to pass she would have been caught. She lay motionless in the cool night grass. Her vision passed through the autumn leaves, there colors like fire in the lightly moon lit sky. Far above her a line of stars caught her eye. The thin string of stars was part of a constellation Adrea’s Scale. The scale weighed the actions carried out in a person’s life. Parents used it often as a child control tool, “Do what I tell you or you will up set Adrea’s Scale,” a harmless but untrue statement. Adrea’s Scale was not said to way whether one was good or bad, or whether they followed the rules, but whether they had followed the path. “Path What Path!?” she thought to her self. She had never understood it when she was young and did not understand it now that she was older. Her grandfather had told her that the path was the way that things go. “Those who follow the path go with things those who don’t like to change them”, he would always tell her. So was the path good or bad? It is not a question of good or bad or right or wrong, but just a question to follow the path or not. The more she thought about it the less it made sense. Her train of thought snapped like thin twigs. A large bird swooped in and landed on a branch. Only its outline could be seen, as the moon lay right behind it.  The sound of the hooves had died out far in the distant south. The clocked man’s hand laid hanging in front of her face. Placing her hand in his she pulled her self to a crouched potion. His hand fell back to his side as he crouched next to her. His hand again rose this time point out in front of them. Her eyes traveled down the length of his arm to his fingertip. Just across the road she could make out the matted down undergrowth of a trail. “There…run…now!” His voice echoed in to her ear, deep like a command for some forgotten solder of long ago myth. Her body moved before her mind had even confirmed the action. Her foot stretched out and met the hard packed dirt of the Northern road. As she leaped forward she heard but one phrase, “Don’t Stop.” Her body raced across the road in to the cover of the hunters trail. Her mind again raced with thoughts of the night at hand. Fear had swept her mind its fire burned not only there but also in each inch of her flesh as she tore across the tree covered ground. Her skin felt cold in the fall night air, but still the sweat of fear filled the creases of her clinched hands as her flight continued. She could her the fall of footsteps of side the rhythm of her own. Her fear only grew she quickened her pace. Her body had begun to over whelm its self her steps became sloppy. She had not eaten for quite so time and the repercussions where setting in the adrenalin in her system had run its course her body was beginning to slow down. The sound of the steps behind her grew louder behind her. She pushed forward with all her remaining strength. Her breaths grew quicker she gasped at the air trying to fill her longs with a fresh breath but still she slowed. A wave of pain shoot through her system like a flash fire, her leg had come forward only to crash shin first in to an unearthed root. Her foot caught the branch as she stumbled forward. Her other leg drove forward to hold up her now tumbling body before she fell. It landed pinned against a rock she could feel her ankle twist as her body continued to fall. Her arms reached out catching the rocks in front of her like sharp knives. Her face winced as the rocks cut in to her left hand, her right arm buckled from the pain. She could feel her noses crush and began to bleed as her face crashed into the hard dirt of the path, head bouncing as it twisted to the side. Tears began to run down the side of her face, the salty droplets mixed with blood as they ran along the crease of her mouth. Her body lay limp against the ground she tried to move but found her self with out energy or will to do so.

            The clocked figure that had been running behind her slowed and stopped at her crashed body. A long sigh escaped from his lungs. “This girl seems to have a bit of trouble tonight doesn’t she.” He kneeled beside her sweeping her dark hard away from her face he cleaned the blood away from the cut deep in her cheek. “Oh you will regret this greatly in the morrow my dear, yes you will.” He slid one arm behind her neck and the other at the back of her knee. Cradling her he picked her up from her twisted potion in to his arms. The young girl stared at his face but was far to removed to make out anything. She breathed deeply then closed her eyes. The clocked figure again began to jog down the trail. The sun would begin to creep across the mountain line horizon before he would stop.

            A tightly balled figure lay with its back against the rotting side of a fallen tree. Dew coated it from the cool night air in a coat of silver drops as if of a great evening gown of the fair gentry of long ago stories and myths. Its body carried none but the slightest motion of its breath. The sun now raised above the treetops filtered down leaving lace like lines painted along the figure’s side. Its head lay buried deep in the hood of a hooded cloak its face hidden from view. Dewdrops had begun to warm within the sunlit lines along the cloak. Slowly they would begin to collect and roll along the old and oiled cloth. The droplets would join into one, streaming along the cloth. To the edge the water would steer leaping from the cloth like bird diving from a cliff to take flight. As the droplet fell its shape twisted and reformed, the air whipped across its liquid form shaping and changing it. The droplet would fall against the clinched hand of figure it fell from. Water splashed up and back to the air while other would twist its way down in to the closed fist of the figure lacing the lines of its palm like a it were a path to follow. The figured twisted from its rest the water bringing again to the waken world. Its head fell leaned to the sided its torso twisted in the open sun. A second hand reviled it self from buried with in the cloak and pressed against the old stump. The hand could feel the wet and flexible feel of the old would of a forgotten tree. The wood bent under the figures hand but held its weigh as it pushed to a sitting position. The second hand uncurled and wiped its away along the cloth cloak cleaning from it the dirt and mug embedded in it from the night before and the water form the droplet that had fallen on it just a moment before. The hand carried its way up to the hooded head of the figure. Its fingers spread and swept back the hood as they pushed their way through the dark hair that it covered. The hood fell down against the back of the cloak. The hair dropped to wear it rested just along the tops of the shoulders of the figure. The young girl from who’s head the hair grew pushed her fingers along her crusted eyelids whipping away the night hours with them. As they met in the middle along the bridge of her nose she winced with pain