She wouldn’t go down without a fight. Yelling the Ichiri war cry, she exploded toward the closest soldier. Her legs were springs as she delivered a solid knife kick to the first man’s stomach. He wasn’t ready and the blow bowled him over quickly, making him drop his own weapon in the grass. She pivoted to meet the next attack from a soldier that towered over her. Arri dodged his massive fist and came up on his side with a snapping blow to his ribs, then kneed him in the gut. He gasped and dropped to the ground like a felled tree. Another soldier came up from behind her, and grabbed her around the shoulders. She reached up to his hands and firmly dug her thumbs into tender pressure points. He howled and loosened his grip; she smoothly twisted out of his hold, then turned and gave him a nice straight forward kick in the stomach to remember her by. As the ball of her foot connected with his abdomen, she felt him tighten his stomach muscles, and so wasn’t completely wasted like her first two attackers had been. She looked at him more closely as he backed away. Through his mussed, yellow hair, she thought he was looking at her with interested and admiring eyes, unlike the angry expressions the other men had when she bested them. The other two soldiers had recovered, and now circled her warily, staying out of the range of her incredible kicks.

She grinned at the one soldier that hadn’t attacked her, from his dress he looked to be some sort of leader. She gave another piercing cry and lunged at him. He had his sword out in front of him, ready to slice her if she came to close. Unfortunately he forgot that she didn’t fight like a regular soldier. Diving into a front roll to dodge his wild swing, she came up underneath him and kicked the sword out of his hand. In a flowing motion, she got to her feet, the captain still reeling from the blow she gave to his wrist. She gave him two swift punches to his stomach, then bestowed a solid back knuckle strike to his nose. He fell over backwards, and shrieked to his men, "Get him!" Distracted by the fight with the captain, Arri failed to see that the remaining three soldiers had made a semicircle behind her. The massive one directly in back of her grabbed her around the neck. She elbowed him in his generous gut, hard. His buddy, the other large soldier with a black bushy beard, slammed his shin into her ankle and she fell forward to the ground. She tucked her head and rolled, praying her Ichiri training would help her get out of this mess in one piece. She leapt to her feet whirling to face the soldiers who had tripped her. She only saw two. The blond soldier quickly threw his arms around her from behind, locking his strong arms around her chest, effectively pinning her struggling arms to her side. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she strained against him. The man’s hold outlasted her weakening defenses, and she found it was too much effort to keep trying to escape the iron grip. The captain, apparently recovered, held a dagger above her throat, his hand shaking with rage and a trickle of redness coming out of his nose where she had hit him. She was surprised when he never even drew blood, then her stomach dropped when she realized why. They were probably planning to prolong her life only long enough for their gristly leader to gain the information she didn’t have; undoubtedly it was going to eventually end in a gruesome death, after torture of course. Having no desire to hurry to thatfate, Arri stubbornly jerked her forearms, and twisted her wrists and hands, evading the ropes the other men were trying to bind her with. The man still holding the dagger against her throat narrowed his eyes at her. She glared back. He pressed the blade closer to her skin, scratching her tanned flesh. She inhaled sharply though her nose and stopped wiggling, itching to slap the irritatingly smug expression from his smirking face. The two other men behind her tied her up, grunting as they finished tightening the job with vicious little tugs. She endured their malicious inflections silently, though her eyes blazed. She had embarrassed these men, and they were taking their revenge.

All except that one, she thought as she realized the blonde soldier was hanging back from making jeering remarks at her expense. As the two soldiers finished binding her up, the blonde soldier holding her still let go and the captain removed the dagger from her throat, then they all huddled together as the leader explained his plans. When the soldiers turned from their private discussion with their leader, they stopped and stared at the raw anger shooting out of their captive’s burning gaze. After their momentary pause, the leader was the first to shake his head and shrug. The others, following his example, took their positions on either side of her, roughly shoving her in the direction the leader was taking. She noticed they all averted her unsettling look, but they needn’t have worried, she had only used that trick to make them uncomfortable, being constantly angry ate up her strength. Speaking of eating, Arri realized she hadn’t had much food for a while. She had meant to get a proper meal once she reached the prince’s camp, but after she had heard about the scouting party she knew she was needed at once, fed or not. Still, being hungry didn’t help her situation now, she prayed that she wouldn’t faint, she had no intention of collapsing with enemy men all around her, though it wouldn’t take much longer for them to recognize her true sex anyway. She was much more worried about the bumpy road they now traveled down in the late morning sunlight, but she was careful not to show her unease. Though the heat warmed her aching muscles, giving her more freedom of movement with less pain, her arms were still tied securely together behind her back, meaning that if she stumbled on this pebble strewn path, she would almost certainly land on her face. So Arri gingerly picked her way across the dirt, hissing savagely to the men when they prodded her to go faster. She took every opportunity to snarl at them aggressively, bare her teeth threateningly, and be generally unpleasant the whole trip. The soldiers were so fed up with her belligerent attitude they didn’t realize the fear she was so effectively concealing. They also didn’t seem especially anxious to reach their destination, and quite reluctant when it came to forcing their captive to do something she had no intention of doing, like obediently trotting to their camp, so it happened that Arri chose the pace at which they traveled.

From what Arri could tell from the sun overhead, it was a little before midday when the company crested a grassy hill and looked down to a valley clearing littered with tents, horses, and more soldiers. Arri’s stomach sank for the second time this day. She bit back the part of her that wanted to sit down and cry and pressed her lips together defiantly. She would see this through! Her captors seemed heartened by the sight of their camp, they started talking in lighter tones to one another, and one unthinkingly pushed her forward down the winding goat path to the valley. She stiffened her back and glared icily at him. He gulped and let her pass unhindered. He, and the rest of her escort, had learned during this trip that even with her hands bound uselessly, Arri could still deliver biting kicks. They treated her carefully, as one might handle an especially venomous snake.

As she descended into the valley, Arri gazed calculatingly at her current surroundings. The place was well concealed, the trees on the rim sheltered it from the casual glance. There was a large cluster of boulders at the northern end, a good hiding place for ambushes or archers. The walls of the valley were steep but not un-climbable; if an escaping prisoner was sighted and refused to surrender, they would be an easy target for the waiting archers. She grimaced. Engulfed in her speculations, Arri unconsciously tripped over a rock and stumbled; the soldier with golden hair caught her tilting shoulder and set her upright with large, strong hands. She jerked away from his touch, giving him a haughty look and an ungrateful snort in return. He stared at her with what looked like a hurt expression, then hardened his jaw and turned away. She guiltily looked down at her feet again, thinking, It wasn’t really his fault I’m in this predicament, he was just trying to help. She looked up again, gazing at his lean form in front of her. He’s not even that old, barely twenty I’d guess. She shook her head to clear it. Kindness or not, he was still part of the enemy, and not to be trusted, even if he did keep her from falling. She wished she could let him know she hadn’t meant to offend him, just his master. Her rage came boiling back as she thought of the person who ordered her brought before him like this.

They had reached the floor of the valley, and now back around his comrades, the dagger-leader bustled with importance. She was being ushered hastily to the side of the camp, and out of the field of tent canopies, she could make out a stark pillar against the grassy green slopes. As the group drew closer, she saw it was an enormous stake, with a wooden platform underneath. Arri suddenly realized it looked very much like the poles maidens were tied to as sacrifices for dragons, she even recalled someone describing a structure like this that was used to burn thieves and murders alive! Her face blanched, before she dropped her head to stare at the ground the young soldier who had helped her up saw her frightened expression. He peered at the captive curiously, the boy’s face hidden from view; his shoulder length hair had come undone from his horsetail and hung down like a curtain in front of the prisoner’s eyes.

The company reached the bottom of the pillar and the leader turned to Arri, ordering her up the narrow stairs to the pole itself. Arri paused, fixing the man with a bright eyes, debating if she should refuse and embarrass him again in front of his buddies. She had no desire to find out what her fate would be at the top of this death pole. She was just about to dig in her heels when the young soldier came up in front of her and said quietly, "Come on then. If you come now I promise not to tie you up as tightly as Marcs did last time." He pleaded her with his eyes and she almost laughed. She sneered at the leader and regally walked up the steps. The two other soldiers besides young blondie accompanied her up to the platform. Soldier Giant and Black Beard were older, no-nonsense looking men with several shiny pink battle scars decorating their limbs and a gruff manner. They turned her sideways only long enough to slice off her bonds, then pushed her forcibly, her back scraping against the pole. They held her in front while the young soldier tied her wrists behind the pillar. For his sake she didn’t struggle, besides, even if she broke free, where would she go? The whole place was swarming with enemies, she’d be killed before she went three paces. True to his word, the young soldier tied her gently, if he had bound her any looser, she would be able to slip them over her hands easily. As it was, she bet she could wriggle out of the ropes by nightfall. She let her wrists relax behind the pole, and was relieved to find that the thoughtful man was binding her carefully, avoiding tightening the ropes on the chaffed, raw areas on her wrists. She gently flexed her fingers, trying to circulate the blood pooled there from her previous binding. Arri kept the front part of her body that face the two men and the captain scowling on the ground tensed and alert. Now what was that blond soldier up to? Was he actually massagingher hands? The guard leader will suspect, she thought quickly. He’s going to---

"What’s taking so long, Tucker?" the captain bellowed. "Haven’t you finished tying that scum yet?"

Arri was about to answer for him with a scorching insult at the leader, but thought better of it and held her tongue. Tucker called back down, "Yessir, just checking the knots."

"Really," the captain said oily. "Since you have spent so much time up there tying our prisoner, perhaps you would be so good as to show me your handiwork?"

Now it was Tucker’s turn to blanche, Arri guessed, because she couldn’t see him at all from around the pole. She cursed mentally as the leader climbed the stairs to see the bindings on her wrists.

"What’s this?!" the captain shouted. "If you had him tied any looser, the ropes would just fall off his hands! Watch and to see how it’s really done."

The captain whipped another piece of rope around her wrists, and pulled them together viciously. It hurt! Arri started to struggle, trying to jerk her way out of the captain’s hold. The two burly soldiers held her against the pole, she couldn’t help but flinch every time the older man tightened the ropes. Arri thought he was trying to make the bonds as uncomfortable as possible, the ropes were most taught on the raw areas of her wrists. They’re too tight, Arri thought bitterly. He’s so angry with me he’s forgetting that you can’t leave a person like this for long, which I bet he’s planning to do. She could see from the clouded expressions on the two other guard’s faces that they knew it too. Only Tucker had enough courage to say, "Sir? Aren’t those ropes a little too tight?" There was a thumping sound, and Arri thought that Tucker had probably gotten a backhand to the face for his efforts.

"This is a prisoner, boy, not a noble!" the captain hissed. "His comfort is not an issue." The two men walked around to the front where Arri could see them.

"Sorry sir," the young soldier mumbled in reply. "I just thought---"

"That’s your problem, Tucker," the leader snapped. "You think too much. Leave the thinking to me and the general, you’re job is to obey his commands, and mine. Report to Fletcher at the weapons smith, perhaps we can sweat the brains out of you. Dismissed!"

"But---" Tucker protested.

"I said ‘dismissed’, soldier," the captain’s voice was dangerously low. "That’s an order." The young man hesitated, then turned sharply and walked down the steps. At the bottom he stopped and looked momentarily back at Arri with an apologetic gaze, then whirled and head toward the center of camp. What’s he sorry for? Arri thought as she watched him go. He’s done more than I ever expected. The young soldier disappeared around a corner, the noon sun flashing on his golden hair.

The captain, however, made no move to leave. He airily excused the remaining two guards, then stepped squarely in front of Arri, grinning evilly. She gave him a bored expression, saying, "Tucker was right, you tied me too tight." The man punched her in the stomach, snickering as he watched her fight for air.

"What makes you think I didn’t mean to, you goatherd’s bastard?!" he said softly, and punched her again, harder.

She sucked in air, bending over as she resisted the urge to vomit up what little food she had consumed. She raised her head, and rasped out, "What a big man, hitting someone when their arms are bound behind them. Untie me and I’ll give you a real fight!" She grunted as she turned her head to the left, the punch the captain had intended to break her nose grazed the bone near her right eye. The pig was wearing a jagged metal ring on his right fist! She gasped, and smiled grimly up at him. "Go on, kill me", she said through clenched teeth. "I’m sure your master will reward you generously when you present him with a dead captive."

He looked at her for a moment, judging how much more pain he could inflict before she passed out. "Don’t worry," he said poisonously. "If worse comes to worse, I’ll lie." He punched her again, and again. She saved her breath and let him hit her, usually managing to turn her head before he smashed into her face with his hard knuckles. She tightened her stomach muscles against his pummeling, and prayed he wouldn’t break her ribs, or discover some more personal things about her female body. After a while, he stopped, panting and gazing smugly down at her limp form. "Chew on that, scum" he sneered, gave her a final malevolent thump and left.

Arri’s head bowed to the cheery midday sun, its warm glow heating the back of her neck gently. She focused all her energy on standing, the last thing she wanted to do was die at the general’s hand while sitting in the dust. She had pretended to be unconscious so he would let her be, not because she wanted to spare herself the pain, but because if he discovered her true sex, and the real condition her body was in, they would summon the general instantly, giving her no chance to escape. Any other time and she would have welcomed the captain to hit her muscled body, no doubt egging him on with rude comments on his looks, his fitness, and his mother. Now, however, she had to reserve her strength for the general, being half delirious with pain from a fresh beating, she would be more likely to blab some valuable information, or worse, convince them she had no information at all. The sunlight quickly dried most of the blood dripping from her wounds, some old, some more painfully recent. At the moment she was left alone, and no one was threatening her at the moment, the adrenaline rushing through her veins stopped abruptly, leaving her feeling sickly and weak. Or maybe just standing and letting the day’s past events catch up to her made her feel so frail, she wasn’t sure. She was pretty sure the soldiers hadn’t seen her previous wounds, she had hid them well behind a mask of ill-tempered actions. They had stayed away from her and her hostile attitude, and never knew the fatigue she was suppressing on the hike to the camp. She mentally checked her body for the most serious wounds, estimating how much time she had before she would collapse. If she had to walk to the end of the camp to be questioned, she guessed she might make it halfway in her current condition before fainting. If she was left here overnight--. She shuddered. It would not be good to be left in these bonds for several hours. However, if they discovered she was worthless and had no information, which she was sure she didn’t, they would kill her, hopefully quickly. She shuddered again, thinking of the gruesome outcome if her life depended on the mercy of Captain Dagger. She slumped against the pole, conserving her energy for the ordeal she was sure to encounter sooner or later . . . hopefully sooner.

She heard footsteps coming toward her, but didn’t give whoever it was the pleasure of seeing her face; she kept her head down, her brown, curly hair curtaining her features. The footsteps were walking up the steps of the platform toward her, maybe half a dozen from what she could tell. She still didn’t raise her head, she wasn’t sure she had the strength.

"Here he is sir," the obnoxious captain said, oddly formal. "He’s the one you asked for alive." Arri pushed the rush of terror to the back of her mind, readying herself to deal with the torture that seemed to be inevitable now.

The leader who was above this petty captain said nothing, but a cool hand cupped her chin and lifted her face up, her hair falling back. She blinked in the bright sunlight, and stared at the man who still held her beneath her chin with strong fingers. He looked stern, but not cruel like the captain. Right now he was gazing at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Arri felt he was a strong presence, and abruptly realized this must be the general himself!

The commander in chief looked at Arri for a long moment, noting the deep scratches, dark bruises, and dirt that covered her face. His prisoner was clothed in torn, dirty rags and was barefoot. He seems not to know his appearance, the general mused. He stares unafraid at me with those proud eyes!

"What happened to him?" the general asked the captain quietly, dropping his hand from her chin.

His eyes never left Arri’s as the captain replied, "He was wounded like that in the fight, sir. He would not surrender willingly and we had to resort to more, ahem, drastic measures to convince him to come with us." The lie was a well spoken, the captain must have had practice to make the excuse so natural.

The general looked at him momentarily out of the corner of his eye, then returned his gaze to Arri. "The fight, you say," he repeated slowly. He knows, Arri thought. He knows he’s lying. The captain shifted uneasily, but said nothing. The general reached out a hand to touch the bruising scrape under Arri’s right eye from the captain’s ring, but she jerked away and turned her head to the left so fast her hair swung back over her face. The general let his hand drop, looked thoughtful and walked over to Arri’s left so he could look her in the face.

"Are you Josua’s man?" he asked her gently, brushing her hair back over her ear so he could see her face. She didn’t answer.

He stepped closer to her, and asked, "Is his camp near here?" She turned her face to the ground again.

"Are you a spy?" he asked. She pressed her lips together stubbornly, and dropped her head lower.

"He’ll never tell you anything, sir," the captain jeered. "He’s too loyal to that stinking, cringing bastard Josua."

At this Arri snapped her head up and spit directly in the captain’s face.

"Why you---," he said and brought up his fist to smash into her face. She saw it coming from him and turned her head to the right and flinched, preparing herself for yet another blow. The general’s hand raced across the distance like lightning and caught the captain’s wrist before he hit her. She looked up in surprise, and found the general’s furious eyes boring into the captain. He walked over to her right side where the captain was standing, and hissed, "Fool! What were you trying to accomplish? I can’t get information from an unconscious man!"

The captain stammered, "But, but sir! This one wasn’t talking! By insulting Josua, I found that the prisoner is loyal to him, enough to be angered to see him slandered." Arri grimaced. The captain was right, she had let her emotions get the better of her. Now they knew her position with Josua.

"You were about to strike him for your own sake, not for information." the general said dangerously quietly. "He was ready for your strike, how could he have known you were going to hit him?" He ignored the captain’s protests. "These bruises and cuts are too fresh to have been done in the fighting. I’d say they were made only an hour or so ago." He turned to the guards that had come with them, who Arri had forgotten about, and gave them a quick hand signal, then pointed to Arri. The general then returned to berating his reddening captain.

Two men went behind Arri, she stiffened, wondering what they were going to do to her. She craned her neck around to see them, but two large, broad-chested soldiers stood at her both her sides. She heard a sawing sound and felt her bonds loosening, then they fell off all together. She brought her hands up and cradled them against her chest, looking down, she could see the sickly purplish color her fingers had become and the raw, bleeding places on her wrists. The general and the captain were still deep in discussion, and Arri decided to take a risk, the pain and weariness making her thinking hasty and clouded. She turned to run away to her left, but forgot about the soldier standing there. He grabbed her left wrist tightly and twisted it up. She gasped loudly in pain as he put pressure on her many sore spots. The general and the captain turned at the noise to see Arri grimacing and trying to twist away from the soldier’s touch. The soldier then grabbed Arri just above the elbow, pulling her arm up and attempting to drag her away from the pole, down to the camp. As he extended her arm, the long gash along her left side broke open and she reluctantly took a step forward with her left foot. Teeth bared in agony, she clapped her right hand to her side and felt the fresh blood pouring out of her already saturated tunic. The general saw the dried blood from Arri’s wound on the tunic, hidden from view unless her arm was upraised like it was now. He took in her purple fingers and raw, bloody wrists and snarled at the captain, "You left him like this!"

He whirled back to Arri, snapping at the startled man, "I’ll deal with you later."

Arri felt dizzy as the guard hauled her forward a step, and was washed in pain as her side gash reopened. She swayed as she stood and realized she wouldn’t make it even halfway across the camp. She leaned back against the pole for support, her head tilting up to look at the general’s worried expression. She found the pole wasn’t enough, even as her legs buckled under her. She slid to the ground soundlessly and the vision of the general’s face swam. She was still trying to focus on the scene in front of her, a puzzled expression on her face, as her eyes rolled up in her head, the whites showing and she drifted off into darkness, a limp pile at the base of the pole.