The Cabbage Girl
Chapter Seven
Blades drawn, the two warriors
faced the oncoming guards. Emlin, though, could only see their backs.
Gomly turned his face only long enough to shout at her:
“Run, child! Get yourself and the others far away from here!”
She wanted to go, but she stood transfixed. Her body just wouldn’t respond to the thoughts screaming in her head to just turn and leave.
She watched helplessly as her companions engaged with the first of the Dunkelgraf’s men.
Gomly rocked backward out of the way of a sideways slash, then rushed in, sword-point first, towards his attacker. The man had left himself off-balance in the calf-deep water and wide open to the knight’s rush. He groaned as the Ostenlander’s weapon perforated his lower midsection and then fell onto his back in the filthy water as Gomly shoved him hard off the blade.
Albrecht dodged to one side as a guard rushed at him with a downward hacking maneuver, but the two of them were too close now to get any weight behind his half-hearted cut at the man’s chest, causing the squire’s blade to bounce harmlessly off the guard’s mail. The guardsman turned, lifting his own sword again for another try at the boy’s head, when Albrecht lurched forward suddenly, shoving his shoulder into the other man’s gut. Knocked off his feet thanks to Albrecht’s mass and the slippery stonework beneath the water, the man fell back with a mighty splash.
As he struggled to get up, Albrecht skewered his sword downward and two-handed through the guard’s mailed chest, right through the symbol of the Dunkelgraf on the guard’s tabard.
Unfortunately, focused on his first adversary, another guard that he did not see then caught him unprotected. The guard drove a mace into Albrecht’s ribs and knocked him away from his own weapon, still lodged in the corpse of the slain guardsman.
Sir Gomly turned to aid his squire, but was quickly intercepted by another man who only barely missed the knight’s head with a vicious but badly aimed sword cut.
Emlin cried out a warning that came too late and was no help at all.
“Aha!” she heard the magus yell. She turned in time to see him hurl a sealed ceramic jar about the size of his fist towards the mass of attackers. It struck one of them in the shoulder, but then bounced off and fell to the ground, shattering on an outcropping of stone and spraying some viscous, clear liquid in heavy droplets all around and leaking the remainder into the water near the man that had been struck.
In her head, all she could think was: even now, he’s useless.
Then he threw the small glass vial he had in his other hand at the same man. The glass broke upon his helmet, allowing some shiny substance to fall from the fractured container into the water at his feet. The guard laughed at the magus’ impotent attacks.
Then the water around the guardsman lit up with a blinding white and purple flare, and suddenly there was rumbling fire engulfing him as he screamed and the flames spread across the water behind him towards the remainder of his compatriots. A blast of heat hit the Cabbage Girl in the face as her eyes first shot wide and then shut hard against the hot air.
Sir Gomly took advantage of the sudden distraction to bring his sword through his opponent’s face. The man screamed and fell, flopping around in the water, churning it into red froth.
Albrecht had grabbed the arms of his own attacker and was doing his best to keep the man from staving in his skull with that heavy mace. The Ostenlander knight struck from behind, catching the back of the guard’s head in a sweeping arc with his own blade, and spraying gore around him.
Albrecht fell to the side with the guard as the man collapsed into the murky water, now lit with the sweeping flames that cut the rest of the guards off from the companions.
Gomly hauled his squire up as the boy groaned in pain, holding the side where the mace had connected. Emlin couldn’t hear what the knight asked, but Albrecht nodded an affirmative as his master helped him over to the grating.
“How long will that last, magus?” the knight asked over the roar of fire and the screams of men.
“Maybe a quarter of an hour. Maybe less. We must get this grate open quickly, though. No telling how long before that fire will begin to move our way.”
“Then you will have to help me with this lever.”
The magus nodded in response.
Sir Gomly yelled at Emlin through the bars: “I told you to go, girl! Now take the others into that forest. We’ll join you if we get out of here alive.”
The Cabbage Girl nodded and finally found herself able to move. She felt stupid. Hadn’t she just pushed Ishild off the edge of the outlet for reacting the same way?
She let herself down to the ground. Ishild was curled up on the sand next to a broken piece of old stone, crying. When Emlin tried to help her up, Ishild shook the Cabbage Girl’s hand from her arm.
“Leave me alone! You’re a horrible, clumsy brute! You nearly killed me,” she screamed, her pretty face twisted into ugly rage, smeared with tear-stuck sand “I hate you, you filthy, fat, ugly mongrel of a girl!”
Emlin didn’t expect to be quite so stung by these words. Lora had basically said the same thing, all those years ago before she killed herself. But Lora had said it as though it were a matter of simple fact and explained how it helped the Cabbage Girl hide her femininity from the dark glances of darker men. It had been mean, perhaps, but, at the time, it seemed like a good thing.
But Ishild was speaking purely to wound. And wound she did.
Emlin turned to the young squires.
“Your master said to head for the trees and that he and Albrecht would meet us there.”
Balduin looked suspicious, but Korbinian, the younger of the two, simply nodded and started heading off in that direction at a quick jog. Balduin looked like he wanted to object, but quickly took after his younger companion.
“Get up,” Emlin said to Ishild, not a little coldly. “Now. Or I’ll show you just how much of a brute I can be.”
Ishild looked like she was about to spit forth more venom, but the Cabbage Girl loomed over her and the smaller girl thought better of it. She got up and limped pathetically across the open sand towards the trees. Emlin followed behind her, both to make sure she kept pace but also to hide her own sense of shame – both over the pain she felt and the bullying threat she had just inflicted.
It was only a few minutes later that the men joined them. Sir Gomly told them to all get up and to keep up with him and the magus. Albrecht was clearly in pain, favoring the side where the mace had struck. But he kept moving without stopping for more than a moment. Emlin could still see the fire burning just inside the outlet as they turned away from Feiglingstadt.
At Sir Gomly’s request, she led them towards the remains of the old farm and her secret patch of cabbages.
Gomly turned his face only long enough to shout at her:
“Run, child! Get yourself and the others far away from here!”
She wanted to go, but she stood transfixed. Her body just wouldn’t respond to the thoughts screaming in her head to just turn and leave.
She watched helplessly as her companions engaged with the first of the Dunkelgraf’s men.
Gomly rocked backward out of the way of a sideways slash, then rushed in, sword-point first, towards his attacker. The man had left himself off-balance in the calf-deep water and wide open to the knight’s rush. He groaned as the Ostenlander’s weapon perforated his lower midsection and then fell onto his back in the filthy water as Gomly shoved him hard off the blade.
Albrecht dodged to one side as a guard rushed at him with a downward hacking maneuver, but the two of them were too close now to get any weight behind his half-hearted cut at the man’s chest, causing the squire’s blade to bounce harmlessly off the guard’s mail. The guardsman turned, lifting his own sword again for another try at the boy’s head, when Albrecht lurched forward suddenly, shoving his shoulder into the other man’s gut. Knocked off his feet thanks to Albrecht’s mass and the slippery stonework beneath the water, the man fell back with a mighty splash.
As he struggled to get up, Albrecht skewered his sword downward and two-handed through the guard’s mailed chest, right through the symbol of the Dunkelgraf on the guard’s tabard.
Unfortunately, focused on his first adversary, another guard that he did not see then caught him unprotected. The guard drove a mace into Albrecht’s ribs and knocked him away from his own weapon, still lodged in the corpse of the slain guardsman.
Sir Gomly turned to aid his squire, but was quickly intercepted by another man who only barely missed the knight’s head with a vicious but badly aimed sword cut.
Emlin cried out a warning that came too late and was no help at all.
“Aha!” she heard the magus yell. She turned in time to see him hurl a sealed ceramic jar about the size of his fist towards the mass of attackers. It struck one of them in the shoulder, but then bounced off and fell to the ground, shattering on an outcropping of stone and spraying some viscous, clear liquid in heavy droplets all around and leaking the remainder into the water near the man that had been struck.
In her head, all she could think was: even now, he’s useless.
Then he threw the small glass vial he had in his other hand at the same man. The glass broke upon his helmet, allowing some shiny substance to fall from the fractured container into the water at his feet. The guard laughed at the magus’ impotent attacks.
Then the water around the guardsman lit up with a blinding white and purple flare, and suddenly there was rumbling fire engulfing him as he screamed and the flames spread across the water behind him towards the remainder of his compatriots. A blast of heat hit the Cabbage Girl in the face as her eyes first shot wide and then shut hard against the hot air.
Sir Gomly took advantage of the sudden distraction to bring his sword through his opponent’s face. The man screamed and fell, flopping around in the water, churning it into red froth.
Albrecht had grabbed the arms of his own attacker and was doing his best to keep the man from staving in his skull with that heavy mace. The Ostenlander knight struck from behind, catching the back of the guard’s head in a sweeping arc with his own blade, and spraying gore around him.
Albrecht fell to the side with the guard as the man collapsed into the murky water, now lit with the sweeping flames that cut the rest of the guards off from the companions.
Gomly hauled his squire up as the boy groaned in pain, holding the side where the mace had connected. Emlin couldn’t hear what the knight asked, but Albrecht nodded an affirmative as his master helped him over to the grating.
“How long will that last, magus?” the knight asked over the roar of fire and the screams of men.
“Maybe a quarter of an hour. Maybe less. We must get this grate open quickly, though. No telling how long before that fire will begin to move our way.”
“Then you will have to help me with this lever.”
The magus nodded in response.
Sir Gomly yelled at Emlin through the bars: “I told you to go, girl! Now take the others into that forest. We’ll join you if we get out of here alive.”
The Cabbage Girl nodded and finally found herself able to move. She felt stupid. Hadn’t she just pushed Ishild off the edge of the outlet for reacting the same way?
She let herself down to the ground. Ishild was curled up on the sand next to a broken piece of old stone, crying. When Emlin tried to help her up, Ishild shook the Cabbage Girl’s hand from her arm.
“Leave me alone! You’re a horrible, clumsy brute! You nearly killed me,” she screamed, her pretty face twisted into ugly rage, smeared with tear-stuck sand “I hate you, you filthy, fat, ugly mongrel of a girl!”
Emlin didn’t expect to be quite so stung by these words. Lora had basically said the same thing, all those years ago before she killed herself. But Lora had said it as though it were a matter of simple fact and explained how it helped the Cabbage Girl hide her femininity from the dark glances of darker men. It had been mean, perhaps, but, at the time, it seemed like a good thing.
But Ishild was speaking purely to wound. And wound she did.
Emlin turned to the young squires.
“Your master said to head for the trees and that he and Albrecht would meet us there.”
Balduin looked suspicious, but Korbinian, the younger of the two, simply nodded and started heading off in that direction at a quick jog. Balduin looked like he wanted to object, but quickly took after his younger companion.
“Get up,” Emlin said to Ishild, not a little coldly. “Now. Or I’ll show you just how much of a brute I can be.”
Ishild looked like she was about to spit forth more venom, but the Cabbage Girl loomed over her and the smaller girl thought better of it. She got up and limped pathetically across the open sand towards the trees. Emlin followed behind her, both to make sure she kept pace but also to hide her own sense of shame – both over the pain she felt and the bullying threat she had just inflicted.
It was only a few minutes later that the men joined them. Sir Gomly told them to all get up and to keep up with him and the magus. Albrecht was clearly in pain, favoring the side where the mace had struck. But he kept moving without stopping for more than a moment. Emlin could still see the fire burning just inside the outlet as they turned away from Feiglingstadt.
At Sir Gomly’s request, she led them towards the remains of the old farm and her secret patch of cabbages.
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