Beyond the Bedchamber

The Empress

The crashing of steel against steel made a huge clamor in the clearing below. The rush of bodies in the fray distracted those involved from seeing the two lone figures standing just on the rise of the flanking hill. They stood and watched the commotion below for a few minutes before speaking.

"Is that him? The one with the blue and white?" The taller man pointed to a figure surrounded by three men fighting fiercely. The shorter man sniffed as two of the three men fell under the sword.

"Yep. That's the one. What do you want to do, sire?" He scuffed a boot in the dirt and glanced under his brows at the strong man next to him.

"We have the advantage today. They do not know we are here. Let's follow the ridge and flank him. Cut off his escape and capture him. Let's see what they do without their champion. Keep him alive mind you. I don't want a martyr on my hands." He turned and went back to his horse as the general gave his orders.

The column of horses turned and followed his lead as they trotted along the ridge a-ways. At the trees the mass began to turn again and when they crested the hill they roused their mounts to a full on gallop down the other side. A dismayed cry came from the men in blue at the bottom and the Champion turned to watch the mass of cavalry coming down upon their heads.

The men in blue responded to shouts from the leader and retreated to the far side where the trees allowed them escape from the horses. Unfortunately, he was closest to the assault, and while he valiantly beat back the foot soldiers who fought with renewed vigor, he was unable to follow. The mounted soldiers surrounded the last of his men on the field.

He parried, he swung his sword, and he fought for their very lives. Three, four, and five men in red fell before his blade. Soon though, the only one left standing was himself. They advanced into a tight circle around him, cutting off all hope of escape. He would not go down without a fight. He raised his sword defiantly.

The tall man in red orders five more men to attempt a capture. They fell before the champion's sword. Another five men were sent forth. They fell as well, but more slowly than the last. The champion was tiring. He felt his energy draining and his arm failing. The tall man dismounts; landing in the muddy, bloody earth of the battlefield with a grace that belied his size.

He stalked forward with fierce intent, pulling his own sword from his side as his soldiers parted for his passing. They trembled at the anger in his eyes and flinched from the taught precision of his movements as he stepped forward to finish things himself. His blade rose up and crashed down upon the champion's with a force that had the tired man staggering.

"Yield. You cannot win this day." He growled at the champion as he struggled to regain his feet.

"I am sorry but I cannot do that." He gasped back. His voice was raspy from shouting orders on the field and his legs somewhat shaky, but he still raised his sword. The tall man reluctantly moved forward once more. He swung his sword with a viciousness that had the champion's sword flying from his grasp and the man falling back into the mud.

"You have no choice. You have lost." The tall man moved to stand in front of him, sword raised to his throat in unspoken threat.

"This day I have, but as long as my people stand to fight we will never be defeated." The champion gritted his teeth in his frustration as the man just stood there, staring at him in the mud. "Well? Are you going to kill me, emperor?"

"Not this day champion." He smiled at the confused look on the man's face before rushing forward and clashing the butt of his sword upon his helmet and knocking him out. The champion fell back into the mud, limp. The emperor sheathed his sword. He debated for a moment, then bent down to haul the champion up over his shoulder.