Midnight Moon (The Bleeding Crown Book 1)

Chapter 3 - A Sword in the Night

Tia crept across the smouldering grass, skirting around the remaining two Order members so that the moonlight would not cast her shadow before them. She licked her lips, weighing up tactics. Though this pair would double the number of mages she had faced, she had learnt a few lessons from her previous fights.

First: mages excel at long-range, but their options become limited in close quarters. She moved slowly and low to the ground, concealing her presence until the last moment. The pair were distracted with their tasks, and she managed to get near enough that any potent spells would catch them in the blast radius too.

Second: do not allow them time to formulate a spell. Tia shifted her balance and struck, piercing one with her blade. Their arms fell limp before they could gesture to cast, their face slackened before they could utter an incantation. The last mage gave a cry of shock, dropping the shackles.

Third: an advantage of skill or numbers can tip the balance either way. Now it was one-on-one; she had to hope that her experience as a warrior could outmatch the diversity of options the mage had for offence and defence.

A green glow lit the mage's palm, and the earth bucked under Tia's feet. She fell and rolled, springing forward as soon as she regained her balance. His hand began to glow again, but she thrust her sword between his ribs.

He was dead before he hit the ground, and Tia took care to look into his face as the light left his eyes. She would remember this man and his comrade, as with every other life she had ended. No matter their cause, they were still fighting for something, and being their killer was a burden Tia had to bear. Though, after what she just witnessed, the burden felt a little lighter.

Tia rotated slowly, scanning her surroundings to confirm no more attackers were ready to jump out of the shadows. Tentatively relaxing, she stepped towards the young woman on the stone, her sword at the ready.

The crumpled form stirred as she approached, up close looking to be not long out of her teenage years. On Tia's travels around the Lands, she had viewed many royal events and processions, and glimpsed most monarchs several times over. She peered closer at the woman, calling up the half-remembered face of the heir to the northern agricultural kingdom.

The Princess was paler than Tia's sandy skin, paler still in her fear. She raised a shaking hand to push back a tangle of blonde hair, revealing eyes that had lost their strange glow and now held only bewilderment as she took in the dead Order members behind Tia.

Tia lowered her blade and wiped it clean - the girl was not a threat. Besides, her heart twinged to see this young woman so lost and vulnerable. She cursed whatever black purpose the Order had been using her for.

"You do not need to be afraid," Tia said, resheathing her sword and tugging the scarf away from her face. "I am not going to hurt you."

The Princess eyed her with wariness that faded to resignation. She shuffled woozily into a seated position, her arms trembling with fatigue.

Tia appraised her. There was no calculation in her gaze, no guarded posture to suggest a life as a warrior. Her clothes reinforced this - though now dirtied and frayed, her dress was expensive and well-made, bearing symbols of her kingdom.

The girl hissed as her wounded palms pressed into the stone, her dress soaking up the blood remaining in the channels.

Tia slid her satchel off her back, trying not to make any sudden movements. "Allow me to bind your wounds," she said, steadying the girl's shoulder as she swayed. She glanced over her shoulders once more then produced bandages.

The Princess bit her lip but obliged, raising one shaking hand at a time. Tia bound both palms, handling the girl with care and noting the way her eyes darted like a hunted animal as Tia wiped away the blood coating her fingers.

"Thank you," the girl whispered hoarsely when the bandages were tied, drawing her hands back into her lap.

"Do you have any other injuries?" Tia asked gently, then added, "My lady."

The girl blanched, her eyes snapping to Tia's before roaming again as though she expected a fresh onslaught from the darkness. "W-what?"

"You are the Princess of Levea, are you not?"

The Princess pressed her lips together until they turned white, looking into Tia's eyes before nodding slowly.

"Do you have any other injuries, my lady?" she repeated. No matter how intimidating Tia may appear with the Order's fallen at her feet, she could only hope that the help she offered seemed less of a risk than being left alone in the night.

"I don't think so, no." A slight frown creased the girl's forehead. "And you don't have to call me that. You did save my life from maniacal cultists, and we're alone in the middle of nowhere. The formalities are hardly necessary."

Tia raised her eyebrows. "As you wish."

A little more warmth leaked into the Princess' eyes. "I'm Veanna."

"My name is Tia."

Not for the first time, Veanna's eyes flickered over Tia, but on this pass, they hovered at the tattoos peeking above her loosened scarf. Tia knew the Princess would recognise the marks as coming from the Outlands, the inhospitable areas of the continent outside the organised kingdoms where tribes roamed free. Tia had once called the Outlands home, had once belonged to a tribe that marked her as its own, but no longer. She was glad Veanna's gaze turned away without any questions.

"Where are we?" the girl asked instead.

"Near the border between Niskas and Levea." Tia watched the Princess carefully.

Veanna's hands clenched in her lap at the mention of the kingdom that neighboured her own, and she winced as her wounds twisted. "On which side of the border?" she asked apprehensively, panic creeping into her expression again.

"We are in Niskas."

The girl paled further at the mention of enemy territory. "I'm outside my kingdom?"

"I am afraid so." Tia glanced around and held out a hand. "We should move somewhere safe before anyone from the Order returns or someone else finds us."

Veanna's hesitation was shorter this time, and she seemed resigned to her helplessness as she took Tia's proffered hand and got shakily to her feet. The girl trembled and hobbled, but Tia made no comments about worries she could not fix as the pair stole into the night.