Niara's Tales: Bow of the Righteous

Note: The story of Niara's beginnings contained too much for one chapter, so here's the other half. To those who have sent me messages, thankyou, your support is appreciated, but write me comments, heheh, tell me how to improve! Thanks in particular to Dagr, for pointing out the issue concerning common Roherric knowledge in regards to the pantheon: has been fixed.

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Epic Book: Introduction (Chapter II)

It was late in the afternoon by the time Niara’s father returned, to give a detailed report of what he’d seen. It lined up well with what they’d been seeing for weeks, unchanged, and though the other hands agreed that the fresh eye was good to have, his mood didn’t seem to have improved. Inside the homestead, Niara heard him arrive, sitting across from the door with one leg crossed over the other. She turned the contract over in her fingers, preparing herself for what was to come as she listened to him getting a drink from the well, and talking about what he’d seen.

There was no good way to do what she was about to, no gentle path. Still, he had brought it on himself, and whatever she’d have to face from him now, he’d probably feel worse for it. If only it hadn’t come to this. She looked up as the door opened and her father entered, shutting the door behind him. He glanced at her, then away again.

“We’ll be packing up for the trip tomorrow, Niara.”
“No, we won’t.” Her voice was level, and he turned to face her properly, a tired look washing over his face.
“Now, Niara, listen, we’ve been—” She cut him off with her gesture, tossing the contract onto the floor in between them with a small flick of her wrist.
“Broken. As I promised.” She didn’t move, trying determinedly to stay calm and keep her face straight. Her father shot her a warning look as he bent to retrieve the scroll.
“Niara…” It was a tone she recognised from her youth as the one that frequently preceded a lecture, or in later years, a fight. She watched him slowly unroll and skim over the contract, until his eyes fell on the line that referenced her virginity, now bearing a delicate strikethrough in fresh ink. He looked up at her suddenly, back to the document, then back to her. A furrow marked his brow as first incomprehension, then disbelief, and then anger won subsequent battles across his features. Niara rose to her feet as her father’s face grew into a rosy shade of fury, his fingers visibly trembling on the paper.
“Niara… You…” She braced herself as he stammered for words, staring back at him, her shoulders set. “You ignorant… foolish child! How could you, you stubborn… Mule-headed girl!? Why… Who!? Who was your cohort in this, I’ll... I’ll skin him!”

Niara stood her ground as he worked himself up, words failing in favour of enraged sounds and gestures, until something happened she had never seen before. All of a sudden he stopped, and all of the size and power went out of him. His hands dropped to his sides and he sank down into a chair, deflating. After a moment, she became aware of her own rigid stance, and forced herself to relax, stepping closer. His voice was quiet now, and faintly sad.
“I went too far, didn’t I? Always taught you to be sharp, and to work out what needed doing, and to do it, no questions asked… It’s a good way to be, running a farm like this… but I went too far. You’re not at all like your mother, you know… She was always so calm, and careful to avoid conflict. Oh, she’d get her way when she wanted, but no-one ever got hurt. You… you’re far too much like me.” Something tore in her heart, seeing him like this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, nothing in the world could stop her father; he was supposed to raise mountains and tear them down again in his rage at her… that she could deal with, but this?” She crept closer, uncertain.
“…Father?”
“You win, Niara. You win.” The weight in his sigh nearly made her knees buckle, but he raised a hand as she moved towards him. “Don’t think I’m not angry, girl… I just don’t have the heart to shout at you any more. It won’t get any where, and you’ll never see things my way. I underestimated just how determined you’d be. This will follow you for the rest of your life, child, and I don’t doubt you know that, but you did it anyway. Stupid, stupid girl…” He looked up at her, and Niara flinched back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head again. “I just wanted you to be safe. Safe from the troubles that are coming, and may soon overwhelm us here.”
“I don’t want to be safe, father. Not if it means running.”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear. But now, whatever your father, who raised you and only ever sought the best for you, whom you have wounded gravely by this action, may wish, you’ll have to deal with that decision and everything else it brings down upon you.” He stood again, pressing one hand to his eyes to clear them. “I’m going out again, Niara. I can’t be around you right now. See to things here, and get the men drilling again once the horses are taken care of.” He paused, his features shifting again when he saw her worried face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back by nightfall. I’m just going for a ride. Make no mistake; I’ll find out who you went to sooner or later, and he will regret it.”

Niara slumped to the ground after the door closed behind him. Every thought in her mind shouted that she was right, and had done nothing wrong, that he had brought it on himself, and had no right to make her feel guilty, except that one tiny voice in the back of her mind that wouldn’t be ignored. She did feel guilty though, didn’t she, it whispered. She had hurt her father in a way she alone had the power to do, hurt him as no-one else in the world could ever do. The feeling of hot tears on her cheeks made her punch the floor savagely. She would not regret her actions, she wouldn’t.

The packing never began, the escort never left, and days of unease passed, setting everyone on edge even moreso than when the two had simply been fighting. Everyone on the farm soon knew what had happened, and already some few of the hands began to treat Niara differently. Raised eyebrows and measuring looks were as far as any of them got, but it was still attention she didn’t want. Even so, none of them would say anything to her father, even those who had guessed the truth, driving a further rift through their small community. Two weeks passed, and gradually the number of orc sightings increased on their scouting runs, until they could no longer send lone scouts out in safety. The day James rode into the courtyard, clinging to his horse weakly with an arrow wound in his shoulder, Niara decided to stop the scouts altogether. Her father found her as she finished cleaning the boy’s injury. James glanced between them and scurried away without taking time to put his shirt back on properly.
“Niara…” As always of late, his vice sounded heavy and tired as he spoke to her. “Help me round everyone up, would you? This has to stop.”

It was only a few minutes later before all the hands on the farm were assembled in the central courtyard. Niara stood amongst them rather than beside her father as she usually did during such meetings. Her father avoided her eyes as he looked the others over. It was another moment before he spoke to them.
“Alright. Some of you know that, by now, I had intended for Niara to be well on her way and safe, and though I would rather it wasn’t so, I’m sure all of you now know why that has not happened. I expect that a good number of you know something about that which I do not, and each of you has refused to enlighten me. Worse, one among you now knows my daughter in a way which, in my personal opinion, no one at all has any right to know her whatsoever.” He paused. “At least, I sincerely hope it’s only one of you.” He tried a chuckle here, but the mood was too tense for anyone else to join in, and he moved on.

“Anyway. All of that is however it is, and there’s nothing I can do about it now, except to say that we cannot let this ill-ease continue. I’ve had word from other farms, spread thin as we who remain are, and many of them have taken our lead, and begun to ready whatever defence they can. There are more orcs roaming across these lands than ever before, and still our horses are safe, our home unassailed. This tiny farm is probably the best defended little settlement in these lands short of Edoras itself, now, and they know it. They will come here, and it will be a hammerblow like no other stead has faced.” He waited for a moment to let the words sink in. “So… In the face of a greater peril, we must be unified again. We must be a team, a force, and we must all trust one another. Some of you have lived here for much of your lives, some of you are older than me, and worked under my father. Others of you have joined us more recently, or are so young you ought not be asked to fight, as you are.” Again he stopped to look about them, his eyes settling on the two boys at the front. “James, Tham… You two are young men, and you’ve the right to stay and fight if you will, but you’re also boys to some, and you’ve families, in Edoras, who will be worried for your safety. I give you leave to return to them, if you wish to. And the rest of you. Many of you have wives, children, or parents who live, or have fled to the city. I would ask you all to stay with us here, but if you must go to them, then it would be wrong of me to stop you.” Niara glanced to her left as Tham spoke up.
“I’ll stay sir. My ma might fret, but I don’t want to run. I’m done being scared.”
“Me too. I want to stay. They won’t take us, not as long as I can still fight.” That was James. In the rough murmur of agreement that followed, Niara found herself feeling sad that there should be so much venom and vengeance in voices so young. Her father was nodding to them.

“Good. I’m gladdened to hear it from you all. They’ll attack us, sure enough, and it will be hard, but we can make ourselves more work than we’re worth to them, and that will be enough. Orcs and their kin aren’t brave at the best of times, organised or not. It won’t be easy, but we’ll turn whatever they throw at us.” He nodded once more. “Given the times, I think we might safely leave off training the horses, and simply tend to their needs. We’ll need to spend a bit more time in the day training ourselves, as I’d much rather you all made it through this alive. I worry sometimes that, as she’s grown into the young woman standing among you, many of you have come to trust the word and actions of my daughter more than my own, but I suppose in a way, that’s for the best. It was you, Niara who started them on their training, and I’ll not interfere any more. I’d like to join your line-up though. It’ll give Danas over there someone as big and strong as him to practice against at least.” This time there was a ripple of quiet laughter among them, and her father bid them return to their work with a smile. She went to him as they dispersed.
“Are you not angry at me any more, Father?” For the first time in many days, his smile didn’t fade altogether when he looked at her, though it did turn wan and sad.
“Was I really angry at you, Niara, or just upset, and hurting?” When she didn’t respond right away he continued, walking across the courtyard to start checking the racks of cleaned tack with Niara a short way behind. “I still am those things, but you and I, our feelings and disagreements… we’re only two people, and there are bigger things going on.” He glanced at her. “Besides, even if you did somehow inherit more fire, determination and mule-headed stubbornness that both your mother and I put together, you’re still my only daughter, and all the family I have left. Next time I drive you into defying me, though, maybe something less extreme? Set the house on fire, or run the horses off, perhaps?” As he laughed, she had no doubt he was thinking of the times when she had nearly done both, as a child, by accident. With a shake of her head she left him, heading for the first store building to double check their inventories.

That night, Niara lay in her bed, shifting restlessly. Her father had relented at last, after a fashion anyhow, and she wondered if that meant he’d stop trying to find out and drop the matter. She hoped so. With a sigh she kicked off the light sheet covering her and tugged the soft linen shift she wore over her head. The evening just felt too warm. Her mind drifted to wondering whether she would eventually be able to be a bit more open about her situation with Danas. Alright, her feelings for him, she admitted to herself. She found she wanted to stay with him, now, more than she wished to stay by her other friends on the farm. Perhaps even seek him out again, and get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes.

As she turned onto her side, curled up slightly she shut her eyes, picturing them dancing merrily above the broad, reassuring smile he wore so often. They always stood out so, against the dark glow of the forge as he worked, shirt off, sweating slightly, strong arms moving with a smooth, rhythmic ease. Niara bit her lip in the dark, one hand slipping down between her thighs, where her body already seemed to be a step ahead of her increasingly directed thoughts. Three fingers glided across familiar paths with a practiced motion, picking up a light, slippery film as they did. She took a breath, letting her fingers find all the right places as thoughts of her strong, handsome blacksmith continued.

Her other hand rose across her body, to touch lightly at her neck, starting up behind her ear, then drawing down, over her shoulder and across one breast, caressing just on the borderline of firm. A small sigh escaped her lips as she continued, her other hand, done with teasing, rising slightly to work at the core of her sensation, fingers making small, tight circles over the spot. Her hips thrust almost involuntarily against her hand, willing the pleasant sensation onwards and greater. A breath she hadn’t realised she was holding escaped in a gasp and she quickly drew another, head tilted back, eyes shut tight. She squeezed at her breast a little more roughly this time, one finger pressing over the nipple and back again, curling tighter as the sensation grew. If only she could actually sneak out and see Danas again, secretly, in his own room perhaps. Crawl into his bed, sliding her body up against his, feeling his strength and presence against her, atop her even, his strong arms around her, holding her tight to his chest as he pressed his— Her thought was drowned out by the flood of her climax breaking over her, limbs tightening as she constricted tighter into her ball, thighs crushing the hand between them even as her fingers worked furiously to draw every scrap of sensation she could from the moment. She grit her teeth, swallowing the vocal gasp she would have made in silence as her body shook.

It was a few more moments before the sensation receded and she stretched out again, wiping her had absently on the edge of her bed sheets. Arms above her head, she stretched her fingers and wriggled her toes, working over the muscles in her body, then sat up with a small sigh. Pleasant enough, but it just wasn’t the same any more. It didn’t feel like enough now, not now that she had a whole other experience in her mind to compare it to. Tending to herself hadn’t felt truly satisfying since she had gone to Danas, and a part of her wondered if it ever would again. Standing quietly from her bed, she walked over to her shutters and opened them, letting the warm night air into her room. She leaned on the edge of the window, arms folded, and looked out at the night sky, then over the plains. Somewhere out there Orcs waited, preparing to raid her home in force. She hoped they’d be ready for them when they came, hoped that her concerns about how she would live the rest of her life would extend beyond the coming weeks.

The attack they had all been awaiting came less than a week later, in the dead of night, when the moon was absent from the sky. Niara awoke to the sound of the homestead door slamming open and leaped out of bed, reaching for her sword, before deciding that clothes would be a better start. Her own door crashed open a moment later and the dishevelled looking farmhand who burst in froze for a moment, as his eyes took in her naked form. He whirled about again a moment later, talking over his shoulder as she dressed.
“They’re coming, Niara, they’re here, there must be fifty of them at least, making right for us at a run, be on us in minutes, they will!”
“Wake my father if he’s not up already, then” She paused as she pulled a shirt over her head. “Then get the men up, all of them, get them out into the courtyard and ready, go!” He was gone again as soon as she’d finished speaking, likely as much form the blush consuming him as her orders. She took a moment to strap on her sword, then glanced at the shield next to it. Instead she reached past it for her bow, strung it, and slung her quiver on her back as she rushed from her room. Her father was in the central room already, strapping his large shield to one arm. He glanced up at her, and, though he hid it a moment later, she caught the small glint of excitement in his eye that mirrored the adrenalin racing through her own body. In the back of her mind, a part of her cheered triumphantly. However much he had always denied it, she knew he felt as she did whenever danger was near.
“This is it, my girl. Here’s hoping we’re all ready. Make sure you keep yourself alive out there. I won’t tell you to keep yourself safe; you wouldn’t listen to an order like that anyway, but, be careful.” He pulled her into a brief hug and kissed her on the forehead, before standing back and nodding to her in a much more serious fashion. Rolling his eyes at her return grin, he made for the door, heading out into the courtyard. She followed a moment later, tucking her hair into the back of her shirt.

In the courtyard, most of the men were already forming up. Light sleepers at the best of times, they’d all been expecting an attack soon, so it hadn’t taken anyone long to be up and armed. Some were short shoes, and a few had shirts on backwards, but even so. Her father drew his sword and held it up with a shout, the men responded in kind, but there was no time for any proper speech. Instead, he started calling names and orders.

“Danas, Jameson, Cooper, Thatcher, Wright, you men are with me, we’ll hold the central courtyard. They can come at us form two main ways, the barricading will see to that. It should funnel their forces through the main gate, and between stable three and storehouse one. That is where the defence is lightest, and I expect them to find as much. Harry, Wainright, Thomas, Harper, Standred, Treff, expect an attack from the farmstead side, they won’t commit their forces all in one spot, and I need you men with your eyes sharp for where else they go. If nothing comes, join us at the gate.” As he spoke, Niara engaged other men, also giving her orders.

“They’ll want to burn us out, and we can’t let that happen. James, Tham, Theoric, Evenson, you four are on fires. That’s your number one concern. Get those fires put out whenever they spring up, wherever they take. You’ve practiced this, don’t be afraid.” Not likely, she thought to herself, many looked far more nervous than the four youngest men there. “Eoric, Fletcher, Feldstan and Rohran, help wherever you can, but see that the horses are safe, that’s your number one concern.” She had no sooner finished snapping her instruction than her eye caught a glint of orange streaking through the sky. More followed, and the attack began, heralded by a volley of lit arrows. Mayhem broke out as people rushed to se to their tasks, and there was a shout as the fore-runners struck the defending line of fighters. The farm became a din of noise and shouts, and of striking metal, smoke and cinder. She could see her father, shield up, strike a pair of orcs with a full-armed bash, before darting in with his sword as they recoiled. Beside him, Danas parried a low stab form another, letting the thrust slip past before slamming the off-balance creature head first against the stable wall.

Behind her, Tham and James rushed about dousing small fires with buckets drawn from the well, but always there were more springing up. They couldn’t hope to keep up. They had to have a line somewhere. She rushed to the far side of the farm, and out over the back barricade, circling around to see if she could get a better look at the attacking force. She nearly recoiled as the swarm of orcs came into view, massed around the front and side entrances, pressing to get into the fight, while they held the passageways. On the outskirts, sure enough, a line of orcs stood slightly back, launching volley after volley of pitch-tipped arrows at the farm buildings. Once again, she thanked the inaccuracy of their crude bows, the only thing stopping the whole farm from being ablaze already.

Setting her shoulders she scaled the corner of the near building, and vaulted up onto the roof, crouching low as she ran forward. Standing just behind the chimneystack, she glanced out and sighted at the archers, then pulled an arrow from her quiver. Ten of them. She could manage that. She worked as quickly as she could, ducking out from her position to aim a shot, before pressing her back against the stones again. After the third archer fell, they noticed her, and several started aiming their shots at the building, and her whenever they could. At this range, the arc of their shots rendered her safe enough, but many began to strike into the thatching around her, and burn. The smoke made her choke, eyes watering, and she pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth, trying to breath. Each shot cost her another eyeful of smoke and after letting her eighth fly, she collapsed from her crouch to a sitting position, coughing. Tham appeared moments later, casting a bucket of water over the roof, before disappearing. James followed with a second, and Theoric with a third. Theo paused before he jumped down.
“Arrows have mostly stopped, Niara. If you can get the rest, we’ll join the fighting.” He was gone before she could acknowledge him, but she forced herself to her feet again, ducking out for another shot. As the ninth orc fell, she saw the last one cast his bow to the ground and pull out one of the nasty-looking blades they all carried, rushing into the fray. So much for the fire. One last glance out showed her a more worrying issue. The swarm of orcs was spreading out, pressing against the two main entrances as it was. The farm was nearly surrounded now, and she could hear scuffling below her, at the base of the structure. She drew her sword, but had to throw herself backwards out of the way as the first orc to scale the building swiped at her.
“Coward bitch! Hold still, and I’ll show you!” She heard the guttural shout as she stumbled backwards, grabbing at the chimney stack, and turning her weight just enough to jump down safely into the courtyard. Men ran past her, swords up as she saw orcs begging to swarm over the roofs all around.

Down at the front gate, Niara’s father stepped back to block another incoming slash, and a second that followed close behind. Finding a chance to strike back was growing harder; it was all he could do to keep the defence up. Beside him, Danas fared better, his raw strength letting him force openings to counter attack more often. As he dispatched another, they glanced at each other briefly.
“Danas! You’ll look after her, won’t you?” He blocked again and thrust back, catching a quick breath, before lunging forward to stab his recoiling opponent. The larger man glanced at him quickly, as he parried, before returning his attention to his enemy.
“Sir?”
“Niara! You’ll look take care of her?” He grit his teeth as an orc charged him bodily, throwing itself against his shield shoulder first. His feet slid by a hand length before he could repel the vile creature. “I worked it out a few days ago, don’t worry! The way she looks at you gave it away! If I don’t make it through, tell me you’ll take good care of her!”
“Of course, Mas—Raagh!” Danas shouted as his shield swept the arms of two orcs out of the path of his sword, gutting them both. “Of course, Master Foregate! I’d die for her!”
“I’d much rather you lived for her, boy! Now let’s make them regret coming here!”

Niara loosed again at another invader jumping down from a roof, taking him in the neck. She head the thump of another landing behind her, and spun around only to see him scream, toppling forward to his knees. A moment later, a knife darted around to sever his throat all the way to the spine. As the orc fell, she saw Tham standing behind him, a knife covered in dark orc blood held backhand in each fist and a dark expression on his face. He nodded to her once, then darted around her, to find his next target. She glanced about, then sprinted to the back of the farm again, scrambling onto the roof of the rear building and lying low against the thatch on the far side. They were few enough that none had come right to the back yet, so she raised her bow over the arch and began to make shots as orc silhouettes rose over the other roofs.
“Back, Back! Form a ring! Hold them in the centre!” Her father’s voice, pulling the men back into the courtyard before they could be flanked. The din of combat grew louder and they the raiders rushed in from all sides now, clashing against the defensive line.

“Annoying whore, Die!” Movement a the edge of her vision made Naira roll quickly to the side as an orc blade bit into the thatch where her head had been moments ago. She reached for her sword as she rolled to a crouch, but lying out of its sheath beside where she had lain, her attacker now stood between her and it. Backing off, she watched the orc’s blade weave as he approached, smiling as much as he could. “Shoot at us, will you, eh? Not so dangerous now, are we.” She felt her heel brush the chimney stack, and glanced over her shoulder at the edge of the roof behind. There was no way she’d get a shot off at this range, and if she turned to escape she’d be dead in a flash. Her assailant laughed, a dirty, sneering sound, then dashed at her. Niara tried to move, but he reached her first, slamming her up against the stone of the chimney and pressing his dirty blade to her neck. “And now they’re all down there fighting, and I’ve got the little whore all to myself.” He leaned in, and she almost gagged at the stench of his foul breath. “I’m going to enjoy you, bitch. I hope you scream. Either way, you’re going to wish I’d killed you first.” Still holding the sword to her throat, the vile creature reached for the band of her leggings. He yanked at them roughly, pulling them down far enough to reveal her distinct lack of underthings. When he looked down she felt the sword at her neck slip for a moment and she acted, kicking out at one leg. The orc growled as his foot slipped and his sword arm flew upwards in an attempt to keep his balance on the slanted roof. Niara grabbed it in both hands and prised the blade away from him. Holding his wrist still in her left hand, she brought the blade down in a hacking motion that severed his head from his neck in a messy spray. She grimaced as the dark blood spattered her, and dropped the weapon to pull her leggings back into a decent position.

Dropping back to a crouch, she reclaimed her bow, then scrambled back over to her sword, resheathing it. She fitted another arrow to her string and looked up, only to see orcs retreating haphazardly through the gates. She loosed at a straggler, taking him in the back of the head, then sagged as a weight of tiredness caught up to her, the adrenalin fading away. Their attacker’s courage had broken at last; by the look of the retreating force, they had killed perhaps half. The courtyard and passageways were littered with dead, and a smoky haze filled the air as Niara climbed down from her position. As she reached the ground, her first sight was the body only a few feet from her, smaller than those around him. She rushed over to kneel beside the slight form.
“Oh James… no…” The boy had taken and orc blade to his side, a strike that cut deep into his chest, between two ribs, and probably to his heart. She looked away for a moment as she closed his eyes and smoothed his face, twisted in pain as it was, then sought to straighten him out as best she could. The short sword still gripped in his hand was bloodied, and she wiped it off on a scrap of orc clothing before crossing hand and hilt over the boy’s chest.
“Another friend I couldn’t save…” A dark and bitter voice over her shoulder made Niara look up. Tham was leaning on the wall nearby, watching her. He spat. “Got there just as that one” He nodded at a corpse. “cut him down. He was falling back to the circle, but there were two of them on him, cowards.” He spat again. “I killed them, but it never feels like enough to repay for what’s taken.” He shook his head and thrust himself away form the wall, moving over the battlefield to look for more fallen. Niara stood and glanced around. Dawn was near, but many of them would never see it. Too many. Then she looked about again, and a third time, her chest suddenly going tight.
“Father? Father!? Danas!? Where are you!?” There was a small crowd, the majority of those left, clustered in the centre of the courtyard but they parted to her as she ran over. In between them, she discovered what she had been dreading, two bodies, fallen shoulder to shoulder, Danas, and her father. She could feel hot tears on her cheeks as she dropped down beside them, hear herself muttering denials, but her mind refused to take in what she was seeing. They were both covered in a multitude of stab wounds and slices, leaving large tracks of blood all over their bodies, and pooling on the ground around where they had fallen. One of the men was talking, telling her how they had both saved many live, always being there to stop whatever blows many of them missed, or a quick word of courage, but she wasn’t able to listen properly. A hand touched her shoulder and she lashed out, feeling the back of her fist strike something.
“Leave me alone.” Barely above her teary gasps. “Leave me alone!” The latter tore from her throat painfully, a shout that wracked her body and sent the others scurrying away. The sobs returned, shuddering through her in waves as she gripped futilely at both of them, unable to do anything.

Around her, those that were left worked to clear the courtyard, laying out the fallen and piling the slain orcs outside the farm bounds to be burned. None dared approach her, though, and she remained huddled by them until the early morning added shivers to her now painful, dry sobs. At some point, the haze lifted enough for her to lay them out as gently and neatly as she could, though she couldn’t manage to look at their injuries directly. It was mid morning by the time she sat upright on her heels and sniffed, trying to clear her sinuses and her vision. She looked up at the sky, clear and blue, as though nothing untoward had happened in the world below at all. As she stared, her father’s sentiment returned to her mind. There were bigger things going on in the world than just two people. At last she took a breath and stood, stretching out badly cramped muscles. So there were, and she meant to do something about it. Starting with the ones who had done this.

People stood out of her way and avoided her eyes as she headed for the forge. A dark, vengeful and stormy look had taken over her face, and none around her dared to be in front of it. She refilled her quiver from the small stockpile, making a total of forty arrows, the made for her horse. Steffan stopped her as she mounted up, though he cringed as he spoke.
“Niara, you can’t go after them, you have to stay and help us here, we need you!” She ignored him, and guided her horse around him, out into the courtyard.
“I can’t stay here, Steff. I just can’t. Don’t expect to see me again.” A small part of her was horrified at how cold her voice sounded. At the gate, she paused, looking out. Tham was standing by the gate as well, watching her now, instead of the horizon. He was wearing his knives in a pair of small, impromptu sheaths at his hips now, and seemed to have grown attached to them. The boy she knew seemed almost entirely gone now.
“They headed north, if you’re going after them. Eight, in all. We lost eight. I’m going to stay here, for a while at least. We need to take care of the dead, and each other. And the farm still stands, the horses need looked after. Good luck, Niara.” He seemed sincere enough, but her own mind and conscience put a sting into the words that her heart refused to heed nonetheless. She nodded to him once and rode from the front gate, on the trail of the retreating band.

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