《The Cyclical Nature of Time》


 1 - The importance of socks

    On a warm autumn day, it all began. Or ended, depending on how you look at it. Time can be funny like that. Beginnings are followed by endings, sure. But the endings are followed by beginnings in turn. Rather than the two ends of a rope, they share the sides of a coin, standing on its edge, eternally spinning. Beginning and end, revulsion followed by revulsion. As years go by, the two of them partake in their round and round, their eternal exchange more akin to a dance than a struggle. The order of it all might seem set in stone, at least to the one in the coffin. But step back a bit and things will begin to blur. Squint your eyes and you¡¯ll find that it¡¯s all a matter of perspective. Beginning will follow end just as easily, you need only try to see it.


    Either way, the day was warm, and as of yet, nothing of importance had begun or ended. Sitting on a rock in the middle of the woods was a lone girl. Maybe woman would be a more fitting description, but the girl didn¡¯t quite feel like one yet. She had yet to experience that mythological transformation that somehow turns a na?ve kid into a cynical adult. She had lived enough years to be considered adult, but there had to be more to it than that, right? Because if the change had already happened, it sure wasn¡¯t what it was cracked up to be.


    The girl left her pondering and angled her face towards the sun, enjoying the warmth that it was still giving. Her boots were off and she was massaging the soles of her feet. Her body hurt all over, but that was nothing compared to the pain in her soles. The last couple of days had been pretty shitty. Two nights ago, her sergeant had slammed the door open and ordered her team to be ready for march as soon as possible. That meant getting dressed in full combat gear, with a fully packed backpack. It supposedly wasn¡¯t that big of a deal, just get dressed and grab the prepacked backpack. The only problem was that the girl¡¯s backpack wasn¡¯t exactly packed. To be frank, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure she knew were most of her stuff was. They had gotten back from a long day in the woods and the girl had promptly chosen taking a shit and a nap over dealing with her muddy gear. It had seemed a prudent choice at the time, but in hindsight she was beginning to re-evaluate her priorities.


    The sound of her sergeant screaming at the group next door had snapped her out of her half-asleep state, and the girl had felt a rush of adrenaline as all her training kicked in. Packed bag or not, she was the team leader and her job was to get her guys to where they were meant to be, at the right time and with guns pointing in the right direction. And she would be damned if she didn¡¯t do it.


    Her hands had moved in a blur as she darted about her bed and rummaged in her locker, mentally checking off the items as they entered the backpack. She had thought she got it all, at least all the stuff that she could find. It wasn¡¯t as if she had time to go over things again anyway. Next order of business was getting dressed. There was a very specific order to it, at least if you wanted it done quickly. Shirt, socks, pants, shirt tucked in, boots, knife, filled water-bottle, body armor, jacket, combat west, backpack, helmet, gloves. It was a rhythm she knew well. Lack of time was the modus operandi in the army, and that meant always getting things done in a hurry. Yet there she had stood, fumbling about like an idiot. Where were her socks?


    She had spent an eternally long second looking for them, before she had made a decision she was now sorely regretting. She had been lagging behind the others, and she still hadn¡¯t taken charge of her team. It wasn¡¯t her proudest decision, but she had resolved to save some time by skipping the socks. How bad could it be? Fifteen minutes or so of walking barefoot in her leather boots, and then a quick stop to grab her socks from the backpack as soon as the officers looked away. It had seemed a great plan, all the way up to the point where she had scourged her backpack for the second time. Where were her fucking socks?


    That had been the shitty start to a shitty couple of days. They had gotten their coordinates and orders. It was a day-long march for her team, no motor support and full gear. That in itself was pretty standard, but she had felt a growing sense of dread as the march went on. For some reason they had been given an extra fifty liters of water to carry, in the shape of two twenty-five liter square plastic containers. The team had chopped down some thin trees to make carrying the water less of a burden, but on top of her rifle, backpack, ten-kilo heavy radio and her anti-tank weapon, those extra twenty-five kilos was really fucking unwanted. Sure, they took turns carrying it, but that didn¡¯t mean a lot in an eight man team.


    It had been a grueling walk, and when they finally had gotten permission to make camp, it had felt like the best thing ever. The feeling persisted as they set up their tent and it hadn¡¯t even stopped when they were ordered to dig trenches. It had soured somewhat when the sky opened up and the rain began pouring down, but that was mostly because it made digging really annoying. The happy feeling had returned in spades when she was finally snuggled up in her sleeping bag, happy to leave a hard day behind her while she listened to the rain hitting the canvas. And it had only kept on growing as she closed her eyes and felt sleep approaching. But it had all been brought to ruin by two hateful words from her sergeant, the words¡¯ malice made worse by the obvious delight in his voice.


    ¡°Brake camp!¡±


    The night and day that followed had been a morbidly similar affair to the first day. She had woken up in a state of confusion, then madly scrambled for her still wet gear. The camp had been broken in a constant downpour, and the girl had been wet to the bone in a matter of minutes. The remainder of the day had been spent on walking, and they still had to carry the extra water with them. They had at least managed to drink some of it, so that was something. Her feet had been sort of ok after the first day, maybe a little sore, but the second day had really driven home the point of always having your bag packed. Her boots had been literally filled with water from the get go, and by the end of the day her soles had been burning. Every step she had taken had been absolute agony, and if it wasn¡¯t for the rest of the group being so tired she would have had no chance to keep the pace.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Somehow they had managed to complete the march and had taken up defensive positions, awaiting further orders. Which for some reason never came. So they had kept on waiting, happy to catch a break after two nights without sleep. It hadn¡¯t been long until she heard some of her guys snoring. She had decided to let them off the hook, this was only practice anyway and they had worked hard the last couple of days. She had kept her head up as more and more members of her team fell, fighting back the urge to sleep so that she could wake up her team at first sight of officers approaching. No problem, right?


    Apparently, the person that had screamed her awake didn¡¯t share her assessment. It had taken her a lot of groggy squinting until she had been able to read the screamer¡¯s nametag. As comprehension had come to her, her pulse had skyrocketed. The one who had been screaming at her for a good minute or so was a major. That made him the boss of the boss of the boss of her boss, which was the sergeant that was standing next to him, grinning happily. At least her obvious fuck-up and the huge gap in rank had left little choice for her in terms of answers. Yes major, no major, yes major, and that was it. It was probably the weakest yelling-at that she had received during her entire year in the army. All in all, the girl hadn¡¯t been too bothered by it. Given how little they had been allowed to sleep and the amount of time they had been left to stew, it was clearly a set up to teach them the dangers of falling asleep at the wrong moment. The major had probably been there with the sole purpose of adding a little extra edge to their embarrassment. Besides, the ability to really dole out shit seemed to drop off significantly as rank rose. It was almost as if people higher up in the food chain had other stuff to do than to check if the inside of an air-duct had gotten its daily dusting.


    Anyways, she had gotten yelled at, and then they had been given meaningless tasks to keep them occupied until the last stragglers had arrived. In an unexpected move they had been given a paper assignment, and then they had been instructed to take the rest of the day off, just recuperating until the next morning. The twist was that they had to spend the night alone. They were quite a lot of soldiers, so alone was maybe stretching it. She was sure that if she where to shout out a ¡°Marco¡±, more than one ¡°Polo¡± would have been shouted back. Still, she couldn¡¯t see or hear anyone at the moment, so it sure felt like the real deal.


    The girl let go of her soles and stopped reminiscing. She hadn¡¯t read the assignment yet, so she grabbed it and gave it a look over. Apparently they were supposed to spend the night in introspection, to consider the last few days and their own role in the military. This sort of new-age mannerism was hardly typical for the military, and it made her very unsure of what she was expected to do with it. Seeing as she had the rest of the day to deal with, what harm could it do to leave it for later?


    The rain had stopped since several hours, and the day had turned pleasantly warm by the end, even though the forest was still soaking wet. The girl had a nice little fire going, and she was currently roasting her feet over the fire. It felt as if her feet had gotten about as much punishment as they could take before they took permanent injury. The problem wasn¡¯t abrasion in itself. She didn¡¯t have any blisters or anything. But it was as if how wet her feet had been for such a long time had made them extra sensitive to the way the skin normally moves when you walk, or something. It hurt a lot, and she had the worst case of raisin-skin she had ever seen.


    Roasting her feet probably didn¡¯t help, but it was cozily warm and it sort of felt like treating herself to something nice after all the hardship. As she fed the fire and the day grew dark, the paper mandated soul-gazing more or less happened on its own. Sitting by a fire in the woods, alone under a star filled sky have a way of making sure of it.


    Thinking back on her time in the army, it was mostly filled with good memories. She knew that it wasn¡¯t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life, but she couldn¡¯t really see herself do anything else. The officers where recruiting for a mission in some backwards country, maybe she ought to give that a shot? It was probably just a na?ve delusion, but she had always longed to get a taste of reality, to do something that was bigger than a paycheck.


    The girl let go of her soles and made herself comfortable next to the fire. Above her was a vast expanse of stars that shone with unusual clarity. It was a sky that you couldn¡¯t see in the city. This was the sky of the countryside, and it was the sky of her childhood. She jumped between the different constellations, high on the slow and bitter-sweet ride that is the melancholy of nostalgia. Faces and odd conversations surfaced in her mind, and she absently watched them dance as she laid there. She wasn¡¯t really thinking about anything, but at some point she noticed a star falling. She followed its path as it fell, noticing it¡¯s distinctly slow pace. At first it seemed as if she was imagining things, but it soon became clear that the star was quickly becoming bigger. The falling star shifted into a ball of fire, which in turn growed into a blazing inferno, easily obstructing most of the sky.


    Whatever happened afterwards, the girl would have to take someone else¡¯s word for it. She sure wasn¡¯t left to witness it. That moment marked the end of her life, regardless of how she felt about it. It didn¡¯t matter that she was barely even adult yet, and it certainly didn¡¯t matter whether she had been good or bad during the few years she had lived. It might seem unfair that she died so suddenly, but death comes to all, and ultimately it treats everyone as equals. It might not be much in terms of consolidation, but if the girl had known it at the time, she might have found some comfort in the fact that she did not go into the darkness alone. That autumn night, Death did not sit idle.

 2 - New experiences

    The question of what follows after death has remained relevant throughout history. Countless have guessed, and perhaps a few have glimpsed at the truth. The girl however, was none the wiser. Because the girl you see, she didn¡¯t truly die. At least not in the classical sense of the word. Sure, the coin spun alright. But in a matter of speaking, she waited a full revulsion. Her death marked the end of her life so far, but it didn¡¯t result in the end of her consciousness.


    It did however put a pretty big gap in things.


    She seemed to retain all of her memories, and she was clearly alive at the moment. Firmly wedged between those two moments was a whole lot of nothing. She knew with certainty that time had passed, but she did not know what had happened during that time. It felt more or less like watching a movie where a large part was without sound and picture, just silent blackness rolling by. It was a funny sensation: by all rights she should have been reeling from what she had just experienced, but it was as if that large chunk of unknown nothingness had let her process the whole ordeal. Granted, she was feeling quite dizzy and confused, and that might also explain why she wasn¡¯t panicking. As the girl thought about her current situation she realized that she had no clue what she had been doing five minutes ago. It was as if the aforementioned movie had gotten back its sound and picture at this very moment.


    So the girl looked around and tried to access her situation. Her hair was annoyingly long and all of her stuff was gone. All of it. She could have done without some of the heaviest equipment, but all her stuff was gone. She stood in a large but rather empty valley, with a setting sun and not much else except a small creek in the distance. And she was as naked as she was the day she had been born. A gentle wind was blowing, and while it was a somewhat warm wind it still felt cold to her skin. As she thought about it, the cold put goosebumps on her skin and she wrapped her arms around her in an attempt to feel slightly less exposed. She sat down on the ground and hugged her knees as she tried to access her situation. It wasn¡¯t as if she was completely out of her element. She had grown up in the countryside and was something of an outdoorsy person. That and her year in the army made her feel almost in charge of the situation, like as if it was just another drill.


    Her stomach grumbled, and the girl felt weak from hunger. Generally, access to water and not freezing to death takes priority over securing food, but the girl felt like this wasn¡¯t the case at the moment. It felt as if she had been hungry for a long time, and judging by how weak she felt, her body was definitely starting to run out of energy. There was a creek in the distance, and except a few small bushes there wasn¡¯t much else in the valley that might hold anything edible. Betting on the creek, the girl began walking. The ground was fairly even, but it was covered in some kind of thorny version of grass. It should have been pretty painful to walk on, but for some reason the soles of her feet where like leather. The sensation as she walked was a weird mix of strange and familiar, her brain feeding her two versions of what constitutes a normal foot. The girl pushed her confusion away and was satisfied that it meant she at least didn¡¯t need to tiptoe like a fool wherever she went.


    She came upon the creek and was rewarded with the pleasant sound of flowing water to break up the monotony of the wind in her ears. The sound of the wind ruled the valley, and once your ears grew accustomed to it, the area felt deathly quiet, seemingly devoid of animal life. The girl knelt by the creek and examined the water. It was clear and obviously moving, and after scooping some up with her hands she could tell that it was more or less odorless. These were all good signs, they meant that the water probably was safe to drink. So she tried some, and when she felt that it tasted okay she drank as much as she could muster, responding to a thirst she hadn¡¯t realized she had felt.


    When she was done she searched the water for something edible and found some weird version of a clam. It was really thick and squat, almost spherical, and was slightly bigger than a plum. She reached into the water and tried to bend it loose. It was stuck quite hard to a rock, but after some tugging it detached. The trick seemed to be to snap it to the sides before pulling. Once out of the water it clamped up tight and it proved impossible to pry it open with just her hands. Eventually hunger won over her patience, so the girl simply found a large enough rock and smashed the clam¡¯s shell. Dirt and pieces of shell stuck to its slimy innards and it looked far from appealing. She brought the clam to her face and glumly realized that it looked more like something that had just left a mouth rather than something that was about to enter one. But her stomach demanded action and she was too weak to really put up a fight. Unfortunately she couldn¡¯t just pop it in her mouth and be done with it, since there was still large pieces of shell sticking to it. Instead she had to take several small nibbles, tearing pieces of the meat loose with her front teeth. She gathered herself and took a bite.


    The meat had a very distinct eggy and oily smell, with only a hint of seafood. Chewing it was horrible, so she quickly resolved to swallow the pieces whole. The aftertaste wasn¡¯t too bad, the worst part was really the look and the texture. Once she got past that it was almost ok. Not good, but ok. The girl grabbed three more clams from the creek and repeated the process. She wasn¡¯t sure if it was her empty stomach or if it was the uncooked clams, but she definitely felt a bit queasy. Still, it beat starvation by quite a wide margin.


    With her hunger declining and her thirst quenched, the girl reckoned it was time for her to secure some kind of shelter. It was obvious that there was none to be found in the empty valley, and with the sun almost gone she had better find something soon. Unwilling to leave her only source of food and water, the girl decided to stick to the creek. So she followed it downstream. It snaked its way through the valley, and far off it disappeared in a bend to the left. It took her almost an hour to reach the bend, and the slight slope that had been a constant so far had begun to even out. The girl took that to mean that she had reached the bottom of the valley. As she followed the bend the girl saw that the creek ended in a small lake, which in turn was more or less enveloped by a forest.


    By the time the girl had reached the forest the moon was up. It was rather full but that didn¡¯t make much of a difference in the dense forest. The trees seemed to mostly be some kind of fir, and everywhere on the forest floor there was fern growing. The girl felt rather miserable now, she was hungry again and it was very hard to move in the forest. At least she wasn¡¯t as cold as she had expected. She had her arms in front of her face and waved them about as she moved at a snail¡¯s pace. The girl looked and felt like a fool, but she figured that she didn¡¯t have much of a choice. There were bare and pointy branches everywhere which were next to impossible to spot in the darkness. This quickly grew old and the girl decided to make camp where she stood. She had long dropped any fantasies of a cozy shelter, she just wanted something somewhat soft to sleep on and something to cover her naked body.


    Her plan was to snap a lot of branches off and use them to make a bed. A minute or so of futile tugging at the surprisingly sturdy branches made her drop that plan. Instead she settled with gathering a ton of the ferns that grew everywhere. It was quick work to gather more than enough, and soon a large pile lay underneath a tree with particularly low branches. So she had something akin to a lousy roof and once she nestled up inside the pile of ferns she found that for the first time in what felt like forever, she was comfortably warm. She had expected a long and cold night, but before she even noticed it, she had fallen asleep. Something her body hadn¡¯t done in a long time.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The girl woke up screaming just a few hours later. Her leg was burning and her arms were flailing. The cold ground was scraping her back and the treetops were moving over her head. Through her pain and confusion she realized that she was being dragged by something towards the lake. She tried getting a look at whatever was dragging her but it was too dark and hard to focus. Judging by its size in comparison to her leg, it seemed about the size of a large dog. A dreary feeling in her gut told the girl that once it got her into the water she would be done for.


    In a hurried almost-panic she frantically searched the forest floor as it passed her by, searching for anything to stop her slow but steady advance. She found it at last, in the shape of a rock about twice the size of her fist. Gathering as much focus as she could muster, the girl slammed the stone into the moving blob of shadow that constituted her assailant. The stone struck true and she was rewarded with a yelp from the creature. The treetops stopped moving as some of the pain in her leg disappeared.


    The second she was freed from the creatures jaws she leapt upon it. The rock was in her hand and she brought it down upon the creature¡¯s head as hard as she could. It gave off a sickening wet sound and the animal recoiled a bit from the force. She struck it once more and the animal grew still. But the girl didn¡¯t stop hitting it. It was as if a mad anger had overcome her, a burning hot imperative to extinguish any threat to her existence.


    The girl had never really fought before. A couple of times earlier in her life she had almost had to, but the situations had diffused before anything had happened. She had been close to dying a couple of times, and at those times she had been overcome with a calm and pragmatic logic. That stood in stark contrast to her current behavior, to such a degree that she didn¡¯t feel like herself. It was as if something else had moved in and taken over, ensuring her safety when it deemed that she could not.


    When she finally calmed down the creature lay dead. It looked like some sort of mix between a pig and an otter. It had the fur and general shape of an otter, but it was much bigger and sturdier, and it had a short snout. Its thick skull had caved in from the repeated bashing and a part of the brain was exposed. As she sat there studying her kill she felt the last bit of adrenaline leave her system. With it gone her exhaustion made its presence known, and before she knew it she fell asleep on top of the carcass.


    The smell of morning and the rising sun woke her up. It seemed like just a few hours had passed since she fought the creature. It looked no less strange in daylight, but her rumbling stomach helped her mentally shift the creature from predator to prey. Longing for an actual knife the girl set about looking for a rock or something with a sharp edge. To her dismay, sharp edges was not easy to come by in the forest. After about half an hour she found the rusted remains of a shovel blade by the lake. Most of the shovel was gone, only about a third of the blade remained, but what was left vaguely had the shape of a knife, and she could hold it without too much discomfort.


    Using her makeshift knife, she cut the creature¡¯s belly open. She drew a straight line from its jaw towards its tail. The broken side of the blade proved to be surprisingly sharp, but it was still an arduous task. She dropped the blade when she was done, and reached inside the belly to pull out the creature¡¯s innards. In the back of her mind the girl realized that she ought to be more fazed by this, but she felt detached and desensitized. So she went with it, figuring that she had to seize any advantage she could. She hadn¡¯t done this before, but she reasoned that it was pretty much like gutting a fish, something she had done plenty of times.


    With the intestines out of the creature¡¯s stomach, the girl set about separating the skin from the rest of the body. It was slow going, and before she was even halfway done the girl decided to stop for some breakfast. With no means to produce a fire she had settled on eating the meat raw. She cut a fist sized piece loose and bit into it before she had time for second thoughts. The meat was lukewarm and stringy. Plenty of it got stuck between her teeth as she tore the meat into smaller pieces. Lucky for her, hunger seemed to do a lot of the job that was normally done by spices. She would of course have preferred it cooked and salted, but it was surprisingly palatable. Compared to the clams it was a definite step up.


    The girl ate until she felt tired and heavy, and barely could keep the food down. The meat sat like a rock in her stomach, and it took a sigh and a heavy dose of determination to get back to work, but she forced herself to continue skinning the animal with slow, determined strokes, until the skin was finally separated from the rest of the animal. By then she had worked the carcass with the shovel blade for several hours, and her hands ought to have been hurt. But when she studied them no damage could be found, except for a slight redness. As she saw this she suddenly realized that she had been bitten during the night. She hurriedly gave her leg a look-over but found no sign of damage. Her skin was muddled with dirt and blood, but it didn¡¯t hurt at all, and she couldn¡¯t find any wounds. It felt weird, but the girl was certain that the creature had bitten her. Maybe it hadn¡¯t punctured her skin?


    Pushing her questions to the back of her head, the girl focused and put the last touches to removing the skin. She hadn¡¯t seen anyone prepare a skin before, but the girl read a lot and she had a few ideas about what to do. She started with scraping of as much meat and fat as possible, and then she washed it thoroughly in the lake. She kept one eye open for more of the pig-otters but she didn¡¯t see any more of them. When she was done washing the skin she put it down in the sun to dry. She knew that she ought to stretch it as much as possible but she felt that she didn¡¯t really have the means or the energy to do a proper job.


    The sun shone brightly and after a few hours the skin felt a lot dryer. By then she had stuffed herself full of the stringy meat once more. The girl had read that the oils in an animal¡¯s brain was perfectly suited to cure its skin. She doubted the brains were still fresh enough to use. It had been quite some time now since the creature died, and even the meat had begun to smell differently. Despite her doubt she still stuck her hands in the creature¡¯s brain and grabbed as much as possible. It felt lick sticking your hands in lukewarm mud, except that it was fat and disgusting. The girl went on to apply it to the creature¡¯s skin, making sure to work it into every little crease. When she was done she rolled the skin into a tight roll, thinking it would make for a good pillow until it was done.


    It had been a long day¡¯s work, but now she was fed and soon she might even be clothed. The day still had a few hours left in it, and the girl had a full belly. After pondering her next move while carefully removing as much as possible of the stickiness that covered her hands, she decided to fashion herself a spear. The rusted remnants of a shovel that had served her so well would sadly not be much use in a fight. She needed something that put some distance between her and any potential danger, and a spear seemed suitably easy to make. So she grabbed the skin and the blade and started searching for a branch long and straight enough.


    All of the branches she could find were both too short and too thin. Thinking about an alternative, she realized that she could instead utilize the actual stem of the tree. The girl felt a tinge of frustration when she realized that she had just wasted a good amount of time searching for branches when she instead should have searched for a young tree. Once she changed her scope it was easy to find several suitable specimens, so she picked one at random. The tree was both sturdy and flexible, and it seemed next to impossible to brake it using just her hands. With a sigh the girl dropped any notion of success coming easy and begun cutting the tree down using the blade.


    It took a lot of time since the blade repeatedly got stuck in the tree, but in the end she had cut the tree off and removed its branches. The sun was once again beginning to set so she hurried back to her makeshift bed. The darkness came quickly and she was forced to search around for a while before she found it. To her dismay someone or something must have visited while she was gone, for the carcass that was meant to be her dinner was no longer there. With a disappointed sigh and a grumbling stomach the girl made herself comfortable in her pile of fern and begun sharpening her spear-to-be. She soon fell asleep, blade in hand, dreaming of modern comforts.

 3 – Not all that glitters

    The girl slept through the many sounds and movements that inhabit a forest at night. She awoke with a yawn and a stretch by the days first light. Granted, she was stiff and cold from sleeping on the ground, but she was alive and rested, and the day felt filled to the brim with possibilities. She stumbled down to the lake and waded into the water. Of course she made sure to look for more pig-otters, but she hadn¡¯t seen any signs of them at all. Perhaps they were solitary predators.


    The lake was shallow by the shore but quickly grew deeper. Its water was bitingly cold but the girl was used to it by now and the sun was already growing warm. Rather than taking a refreshing morning swim, the girls aim was to secure breakfast. She figured that some of the clams that grew in the creek ought to also grow in the lake. Her theory proved correct, in a shallow and rocky part of the lake they grew in abundance. She pried a bunch of them loose and brought them back to the camp. Eating the clams for breakfast gave of a nostalgic feel as the taste was similar to the eggs and cheap caviar she usually ate. Sadly it also got her stomach started and sent her off into the woods. As she sat under the branches the girl ponder one of the bigger questions in life: In a forest of pine and fir, how the hell do you substitute toilet paper?


    A while later the girl returned to her camp. Her spear was sharp enough to hurt someone, but it still hadn¡¯t dried and was uncomfortable to hold. She would have to continuing work on it as she went. She grabbed the skin and unrolled it. It was stiff and smelly, but it hadn¡¯t begun to rot, so she must have done something right. Using her blade she carved a hole large enough to squeeze her head through. She put the makeshift poncho on and felt an unexpected wave of relief. Apparently having a layer between yourself and the great unknown did wonders for your sense of security.


    The skin was fat and sticky against her own skin, but the fur on its outside was thick and would probably also keep some water out. The girl wasn¡¯t very large, and the skin just about reached down to her knees. It was somewhat restrictive to her arms¡¯ movement when she reached above her shoulders, but the girl didn¡¯t care. The constant exposure to the wind had stopped, and in its stead was an unfamiliar but wonderful warmth and cosiness.


    The girl went over to the creek¡¯s outlet into the lake and drank as much as she could stomach. She picked her stuff up and had to carry the blade and the spear in the same hand in order to bring some of the clams with her. It was annoying but ultimately worth it. Having no reason to stay and no clear goal to walk towards, the girl chose a direction at random and took off.


    She walked during most of the day. Until now the forest didn¡¯t provide much of a change in scenery. She had eaten her clams along the way, so at least she didn¡¯t have to carry them anymore. Her feet was tired and she was once again hungry. There hadn¡¯t been any signs of drinkable water on the way, and if there was any wildlife it didn¡¯t want to be seen by her. The day had been filled with thoughts of the past, and the monotone forest had done its best to assist her. The girl dreaded thinking about it, she felt with certainty that she faced a difficult mental tightrope-walk. At the moment she was coping fine with her trials and hardship, but it seemed as if one single unfortunate thought could spiral her into despair.


    Her mother had always told her to think less, that one grew mad from thinking too much. The girl reckoned she was both right and wrong. Thinking much was surely good, but thinking in the wrong way or with the wrong timing could prove to be devastating. In order to push away the mountain of negativity and despair that she felt looming over her shoulder, she focused on sorting out a more practical question: How the hell had she ended up here? She had crisp and clear memories of her time in the army, right up to the night by the fire and the silly assignment of introspection she had gotten. She remembered the falling star, then a whole lot of blackness. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn¡¯t force any more details than that. Something that struck her as interesting was that the gap in her memory felt different from the kind you got while sleeping. It wasn¡¯t as if she had fallen asleep there and woken up here. Time had definitely passed, and for whatever reason, she was unable to remember it.


    After a long time of pondering, the thought struck her that she hadn¡¯t worried over her family for a second. This process was typical for her. The norms and values that was practically law to most people was for her an afterthought, something she realized that you should or shouldn¡¯t do when it was already too late. To the girl, keeping within the confines of social normality was like sticking to the rules of a board game. It was definitely possible but required conscious thought and knowledge of the rules.


    The girl knew she ought to worry about loved ones and friends, but she didn¡¯t. She knew it was weird, but she had always known in her heart that she was different from most people. She had felt a lifelong melancholic mixture of pride and shame due to the fact that other people didn¡¯t really matter to her. It wasn¡¯t like she completely lacked empathy or something. If she knew someone was suffering, she intellectually wished for them that it would eventually stop. But she never felt it, at least not in the way it seemed like other people did. She didn¡¯t miss people, and she never felt sorry if she had hurt someone. The girl didn¡¯t think that it made her a bad person. In her opinion it was what you did, not wat you felt or meant, that determined if you were good or bad.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Also, not caring about people had some definite upsides. She never had to bother with the low self-esteem that seemed to plague every other teenager. And the detachment gave her some kind of social edge. To the girl, most people were walking around with huge signs on their foreheads, advertising in bold font their needs and wants. Once you knew what someone wanted to hear it was easy to give it or withhold it as you saw fit.


    This meant that she had always been comfortable in solitude. Other people was to her mostly a chore rather than a boon. But now she found herself longing for people. Not their company per say, but rather what came with them. Safety, help, advice, answers. Not to mention warmth and a cooked meal. And right now, the promise of all of this stood before her like a mirage. Her heart was beating nervously and she was constantly shifting the spear in her hands as she moved as quietly as possible. A short while ago she had spotted a fire far off in between the trees. She would never have seen it if not for the encroaching darkness that had followed the departing sun.


    Her careful and slow steps had brought her ever closer to the fire and she could almost hear the cracking of the wood as it burned. A couple of trees covered her approach, and she was betting on them to hide her as she snuck closes to the fire. A young man was sitting by the fire, his face partly revealed by the light. He was aimlessly poking around in the fire with a stick, as if he had nothing better to do. He was sort of handsome, at least he probably would be in couple of years. Now he looked a bit to boyish for her taste, and his fuzzy attempt at sideburns only made it worse. Still, sitting by the fire, alone in the woods, he sort of had a rugged appeal.


    The man suddenly stopped poking the fire and dropped the stick. Shit, thought the girl, as she felt her body tense up, her hear beating rapidly. He was reaching for something¡­ And then he reached it, and the girl immediately regretted her previous assessment. His index finger was buried deep in his nose, and he was sort of rummaging around, franticly searching for something. The girl figured she ought to jump in before he found whatever it was that he was looking for.


    ¡°Find anything?¡± She asked, as she stepped forth from the shadows with a crocked smile on her face.


    The boy¡¯s scream filled the night as he fell over. As it ebbed out, the forest was for a moment filled with the sound of fleeing animals. His face had a terrified look as he tried to get away from her, fumbling for his knife.


    Since her entrance had been quite a bit more dramatic then she had hoped for, the girl simply leaned on her spear, trying to give the poor guy some space. It took him a while, but as the moment went by his breathing eventually calmed. He had both his hands wrapped around his knife and kept it steadily pointed at her.


    The boy took a few more breaths before he finally got his tongue back. ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked.


    The girl sighed. What kind of stupid question was that?


    ¡°Look, buddy¡±, she said. ¡°I¡¯m not dangerous, ok?¡±


    When the boy only tightened his grip on the knife in return, she settled on a more practical approach, tossing her spear to the ground.


    ¡°See?¡± She said, and took a step towards the fire. Maybe it was the spear that did the trick, or the fact that her face was lit up by the fire, but the boy finally lowered his knife and got up.


    ¡°Ok¡±, he said. It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. ¡°For a moment I thought you were¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Asked the girl, as she sat down and made herself comfortable by the fire.


    ¡°Never mind¡±, he said in a low voice, obviously thinking about something.


    ¡°Look, you can¡¯t just sneak up on people in the middle of the night. It¡¯s not¡­ polite¡± he added.


    ¡°Sorry¡±, said the girl, and she genuinely meant it. The poor guy was still shaking a bit as he carefully made his way back to the fire. He moved cautiously as if he feared she would spring upon him at any moment, and as he sat down he made sure to keep as much of the fire between them as possible.


    ¡°Sorry if I startled you, I just saw your fire and figured you could help me¡±.


    The boy didn¡¯t reply at first. He took his time studying her through narrowed eyes, seemingly struggling with how to approach the situation. Eventually is face mellowed, and his decision was further empathised with a sigh.


    ¡°How can I help?¡± He asked.


    It was a stupid question, and the girl couldn¡¯t really stop herself from making a disapproving face as she made a sweeping motion with her arms, trying to convey her general lack of clothing and food. As the boy only sat there blinking, apparently not getting the message, she articulated her question.


    ¡°Do you have maybe some spare clothes and some dinner?¡±


    Her words apparently brought realization to the boy, because he snapped out of his daze and begun rummaging in his bag. The girl couldn¡¯t help but smile when she noticed the redness on his cheeks as he eventually handed her a pair of trousers, trying his best to look away as he did so. She grabbed the pants with a thanks, and stood up to put them on. The boys was very carefully looking the other way, and the girl could practically feel the heat radiating from his checks. It was kind of sweet.


    The pants she had gotten were made from a rough leather, and had strings instead of buttons, functioning pretty much the same way as shoelaces. The girl fumbled with the for a little while before she got it right and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Okay, you can turn around know¡±, she said, with only the lightest touch of mockery in her voice. She studied the boy as he hesitantly turned around. He was wearing something that looked like a homemade leather jacket, but it was thick and rugged, closer to some kind of medieval armour than something from a store. His pants were identical to the ones she had gotten, the only differences was that his was quite dirty. As he came face to face with her, her eyes swept over his sparse facial hair and his dirty blonde hair, settling on his blue eyes that was now curiously studying her. They stood there looking at each other for a second and the mood got weird.


    ¡°Erh¡­ I¡¯m Hanna¡±, the girl said, very carefully not offering to shake his hand.


    ¡°Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Olof¡±, said the boy.

 4 – A boy and a girl

    In modern life it is rarely noticed, but humanity¡¯s unyielding strength isn¡¯t built on cities and quick lunches. Rather, humanity¡¯s success is the result of a slow and hard struggle against the element, fuelled by close-knit communities who bonded and grew strong together, huddled around fires, sharing meals and telling stories, standing vigilant together against the dangers of the night. There is a magic to it, the comfort that is found in the warmth of a fire, a full belly and the sound of your comrade¡¯s voice. It stirs something deep within you, telling you that everything is going to be alright. If you have ever experienced it, you know that this is true.


    The boy and the girl talked for a long while. At the girl¡¯s insistence, the boy had shared some of the dried meat that was his dinner, and as they spoke the awkward feeling between them slowly melted away. As the night progressed, the girl tried her best to understand what had happened to her. The boy¡¯s outfit made her think that he was one of those LARPERS, but the boy¡¯s confused look and insistent answer that he was a hunter made her drop that explanation. When she then had asked to see his rifle, the boy¡¯s confusion had only grown. Once he understood that she wanted to see his weapon he had proudly shown her a bow, while bragging of its quality and his prowess with it. Any prodding from her regarding where they were and what date it was got her nowhere, the boy almost took offence from how inadequate she deemed his answers. Apparently, the best answer to the question of ¡°where¡± was ¡°the Valley¡± with a capital v, and apparently ¡°the Valley¡± was a day or so from ¡°the Village¡±, also with a capital v.


    All answers regarding time was even worse, the best she got was that it was the beginning of autumn. Exotic as it might seem, the boy seemed utterly baffled at the concept of counting years or days. He knew what a year was alright, he just didn¡¯t count them. Try as she might, the girl couldn¡¯t possibly make any sense of his answers. Either he was pulling her leg with a straighter face than she thought him capable off, or she had somehow ended up in some impossibly isolated corner of the world, where progress seemed to have ground to a halt somewhere around the invention of the wheel, and where the inhabitants just happened to speak the same language as her, albeit with a weird accent.


    It didn¡¯t add up, and when the boy finally had gotten around to asking questions of his own, it only made the difference between them more apparent. Every answer she gave was followed by a question. What is the army? What is a rifle? What is a bullet? What is gunpowder?


    Eventually she had given up on that part of the conversation, and instead tried to find out more about why he was in the woods. To her dismay she had found that he might be less of a help than she had hoped. For despite his proud declarations of being a hunter for the village, he eventually admitted that he was lost. ¡°Just a tiny bit¡±, he insisted, but the girl wasn¡¯t buying it. Lost is lost, no matter if it¡¯s a lot or a little. The boy had ventured out from the village along with a man named Bj?rn, who as far as the girl could tell was the boy¡¯s teacher or mentor. This trip was supposed to be the boy¡¯s big debut, the first time that he would separate from his teacher and try hunting on his own. The plan was that he would strike out on his own for a day or two, and then meet up with Bj?rn at their usual campsite.


    Obviously, the plan hadn¡¯t been a great success, since the boy hadn¡¯t found any game, nor found his way back to campsite. The girl resolved to not judge the boy to harshly, all things considered he seemed to be holding up a lot better than he could have done. At least she thought he did, he seemed ok on the surface, but he looked like one of those guys who did his best to hid is feelings under false bravado, praying at the shrine of masculinity like so many other teenage boys before him.


    After a while their conversation had begun to ebb out, and they had mutually decided to turn in for the night. The boy had handed her a spare blanket, and she had made herself as comfortable as possible with her back to the fire, the boy doing the same on the other side of the campsite. As is often the case when two people talk animatedly before sleep and then suddenly stop, neither feel asleep quickly.


    The girl felt the heat from the dying fire warm her back, and the pleasant, almost cold air of the night against her face. She thought about the boy¡¯s weird lack of modern knowledge, and of the strange creature whose pelt she was currently wearing. She tried her best, but it was impossible to make all that fit in any reasonable explanation. The girl considered herself a grounded sceptic, an atheist through and through that based her understanding of the world on the tried and true facts of per-reviewed science. But for all that she tried, she couldn¡¯t make sense of her situation. She had woken up in a completely unexpected place with no clothing. She had killed a creature unlike any she had ever seen or heard of, and she had met a boy who swore that he didn¡¯t know what electricity was, and who didn¡¯t understand the concept of a calendar. Add those facts together, and the only logical explanations she could conjure where bordering on science fiction. The girl continued to wrestle with her thoughts, but they grew less and less coherent, and she eventually fell asleep. Just minutes later, the boy apparently did the same, his snores warding them from the creatures that inhabited the forest.


    Hours later the girl awoke to the cool morning air and the moist that had gathered during the night. The boy was already up, blowing life into the remains of the fire. Next to him was a small cauldron, containing whatever was meant to be their breakfast.


    ¡°The porridge will be done shortly¡±, the boy said as he saw that she had woken. ¡°I just need to get the fire going again¡±, he added.


    The girl yawned and stretched, before she slowly stood up on stiff legs. Her mouth tasted like shit, but she knew it would be fruitless to ask the boy for toothpaste. Instead she excused herself and clumsily walked away from the camp until she judged that she had some manner of privacy. Morning duties done, she felt a lot better, but she desperately wanted to find a substitute for toilet paper. That and toothpaste was right at the top of things she needed to figure out, next to the trivial topics of Survive and Figure out what the fuck happened. One thing at a time. She would get there eventually.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    When she got back, the boy had a small fire going. As the porridge simmered, they talked a little about the plans for the day. That conversation didn¡¯t get far thought, as the boy suddenly realized that he only had one spoon and usually ate from the cauldron. The girl couldn¡¯t help but feel charmed by his glowing cheeks as he offered her to share his spoon with a stutter. Once they were done with the logistics of breakfast, they quickly broke camp and set off in a direction of the boy¡¯s choosing. It wasn¡¯t as if the girl could add anything to the decision, so she just went with it.


    The boy was carrying literary everything from the camp, which left the girl feeling rather silly, since her burden consisted simply of the shovel blade that she had stuck into the hem of her pants, and the spear that she had flung over her shoulder. She had tried to lighten his load, but he had been strangely insistent that he didn¡¯t need her help. By the third time he refused her help she had simply shrugged and left him to his devices, taking comfort in the fact that he had managed fine until she came along.


    Now it was nearing lunchtime, and she had spent the last several hours in a boring slog, just watching the boy¡¯s backpacks¡¯ movements as he made his way through the woods. The only brake in the monotony had been the few times that the boy had decided for a change of direction, not that it had had any effect on the scenery. Wherever they went it was the same thing: Pine and fir, followed by pine and fir. Every now and then a sprinkle of fern, soaking their trousers with their still dew-laden leaves as they made their way ever onward. The scene kept repeating itself for another hour until finally the break arrived, marked by the boy¡¯s jubilant scream.


    The girl caught up with the boy and was a bit disappointed to find that the tiniest stream of water was what the boy was kicking up such a fuzz about. When he caught her less-than-ecstatic frown, he pointed out that the camp was located next to the brook, which in turn meant that they were practically there already.


    At first the girl felt like explaining the holes in his logic, starting with the fact that this was hardly more than a very long puddle, and ending with the fact that even if he was right, they still only had a fifty-fifty chance at picking the right direction. But then she noticed the look in his eyes, which more than excitement showed a feeling of relief. He obviously needed some good news, something to pin his hopes to. So she let him have it, and gave him a pat on the back. At least that¡¯s what she meant to do.


    The boy froze, and so did the girl. The forest felt dead silent, only the slowly moving water made any sound as the girl backtracked the last seconds. She had decided to give him a reassuring pat on the back. Nothing wrong with that. But he had a backpack, so she had to pat somewhere else. Makes sense, the only choice really. And then her hand moved on further south, finding a suitably backpack-free part of his back while she was caught in other thoughts.


    Fuck.


    For the first time in the brief time that they had known each other, the boy wasn¡¯t the only one to blush, which only made things worse for the girl. Her panicked eyes shot towards the boy¡¯s to try to gauge his reaction. To no-one¡¯s surprise his were equally panicked, but they also seemed to carry a muddled mix of fear and excitement. They stood there like morons for what felt like an eternity, while the girl¡¯s mind raced for a way out of the awkwardness. She couldn¡¯t think of anything, but for once the boy took the initiative and squeezed out a nervous laugh. The girl grasped the offered straw and joined in on the laughter. It didn¡¯t last long, and the silence soon made its return. None of the two said anything, until the boy simply turned around and begun following the brook down-stream. The girl did the same, keeping her eyes on her feet. The laughter hadn¡¯t really helped the situation.


    Half an hour or so of awkward silence later, the girl spotted what must be the famed campsite in the distance. She couldn¡¯t tell if the boy had already noticed it or not, he had at least not given out any jubilant shouts like he did the last time. As they got closer to the camp, she saw an older man leaning against a nearby tree. He had his arms crossed and was looking towards them. They were still too far away to hear what he was saying, but just from the look of his face she could imagine the tsk-tsk sounds he was making. It was the face that every parent made when they knew that they had every right to dole out some harsh judgement. Poor Olof.


    The man whom she assumed to be Bj?rn was dressed in pretty much the exact same outfit as Olof, which made the girl curious if it was a serious case of hero-worshiping, or if that was the only clothes on offer in the area. The man looked about as rugged as one could get, as if Aragon hade gotten a practical haircut and then been forced to actually spend a couple of years in the wilderness. His face was covered in a stubble that seemed only a day or two away from a full beard, and the hints of silver in his hair only added to the general look. His eyes were clearly fixated on her with a calculation look, and she could practically hear the cogs in his brain as they worked to catalogue her as friend or foe. At least he wasn¡¯t reaching for the bow that was on the ground by his feet.


    She heard the inhale of air that Olof took as he prepared to excuse his tardiness, but his attempt was cut short by the gruff voice of his mentor.


    ¡°Where the fuck have you been?¡± He said, with a sharp emphasis on the fuck.


    ¡°Ehr¡­¡±, Olof said in his defence.


    ¡°We were supposed to meet up here days ago¡±, Bj?rn continued.


    ¡°Yeah I know, but I uh¡­¡± Olof tried, futilely. The girl pitied him, there was no way he was getting out of this know. She knew this dance far too well, she had been stuck in that same rhythm one time to many herself. Attack, attempted explanation, interruption, new attack. There was nothing you could do really.


    But much to her surprise the dance took a sudden stop, and she shot a glance at Olof to try and study whatever brilliant argument the boy had used to get away from his unpleasant situation. She wanted to face-palm when she realized that the boy hadn¡¯t said anything. He simply stood there in silence, his arm pointing straight at her. Shifting the blame. That sly mother fucker!

 5 – Back to civilization

    For a few glorious seconds, Bj?rn just stood there with a baffled look, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. But then he got his bearings straight, and the girl winced as she felt his attention shift towards her. His eyes had a stern look in them, but a second later the tension dropped has his frown relaxed.


    ¡°Hello, I don¡¯t believe we have met¡±, he said, smiling at her. Olof stared daggers at her due to the differential treatment.


    The girl wasn¡¯t one too waste a chance. Her hand shot forward in an earnest attempt to shake his hand. ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Hanna¡±, she said.


    The man just looked at her hand and left it hanging. ¡°Ehr¡­¡± He said. ¡°Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Bj?rn¡±.


    The girl slowly retracted her hand, feeling like an idiot. Apparently handshakes wasn¡¯t a thing here. Nothing is a thing here, the girl thought.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s with the getup?¡±, the man asked, giving her the up-and-down.


    The girl search for an answer. How do you summarize the weirdness that was her life the last couple of days?


    ¡°She slew it herself!¡± Olof butted in. There was pride in his voice, as if he was the one who did it. When none of the others looked suitably impressed, he added: ¡°With a rock!¡±


    Bj?rn raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Whit a rock? You killed a pig-otter with a rock?¡±


    The girl didn¡¯t know what to add to that. ¡°Yep¡±, she said.


    ¡°Oh my! Congratulations then!¡± said Bj?rn, clearly not believing her.


    ¡°She woke up in the valley with no recollection of how she got there!¡± Olof added. The way he said it was like he was quoting a horror movie.


    ¡°Really?¡± Said Bj?rn incredulously, his other eyebrow rising up to join the first one. ¡°She woke up in the valley, the one who¡¯s only entrance is guarded by our village, with no memory of how she got there?¡±


    ¡°¡­ yeah?¡± Said Olof, obviously beginning to notice the holes in the story. ¡°At first, I thought she was the¡­ you know¡± he continued, looking at Bj?rn to gauge his reaction. Bj?rn was just slowly shaking his head, the girl read it as: ¡°Boy, don¡¯t go there¡±. She looked at Olof, trying to make sense of what he was saying.


    Olof took a deep breath to steady himself. He was obviously going there. ¡°I thought she was the ghost of the valley¡±. His voice dropped down to almost a whisper, like he was sharing a big secret. Or it was just that he didn¡¯t want the girl to hear him. His eyes had a manic look to them.


    The girl didn¡¯t know to react. How had they even gotten here?


    Bj?rn sighed deeply. ¡°Boy, how many times have I told you this? There are no ghosts, it¡¯s just stories!¡±


    The boy barely let him finish. ¡°But I¡¯ve seen it before! It was on one of my earliest trips, but I saw it!¡±


    ¡°Enough of this!¡± Bj?rn growled. ¡°You were like ten at the time, it doesn¡¯t mean anything. I¡¯m sure you imagined it.¡± He clearly wasn¡¯t a fan of the supernatural.


    The girl decided that she had had enough and stepped in. ¡°Look¡± she said. ¡°Can we drop the ghost stories for a while. I think it¡¯s rather obvious that I¡¯m proper flesh and blood. No, I don¡¯t know how I got here, but I¡¯m in no way intending to stay. Could you possible help with that?¡±


    Bj?rn seemed to mull over something for a while. ¡°Sure¡±, he eventually said. ¡°We¡¯ll cut this trip short and head back to the village¡±. Finally some progress, thought the girl. She was getting sick and tired of the woods.


    Bj?rn turned towards Olof. ¡°Were you to busy flirting with ghosts, or did you actually manage to hunt a little?¡±, he said with the tiniest amount of glee in his voice.


    Olof visibly shrunk. ¡°No¡±, he said in a muted voice. This was supposed to be his chance to shine and join the rank of esteemed hunters. It had been an epic flop.


    Bj?rn dropped the act and gave him a reassuring but heavy pat on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll get there boy, don¡¯t worry.¡±


    His words brought back some of the vigour in the boy, and they begun clearing the campsite under Bj?rn¡¯s directions.


    She hadn¡¯t seen it until then, but on the other side of the campsite, two deer and a bunch of rabbits was hanging from a tree branch, tied by ropes to their feet. Their necks had been cut, and on their fur and the ground beneath them were traces of the blood that had left them. Bj?rn took them down from the tree with deft movements, while kicking dirt over the bloodied grounds with his feet.


    Normally the hunters would carry their load on a sapling between them. Now that the girl was there to help they fastened one of the deer on Olof¡¯s backpack and gave it to her, while they carried the rest of the haul in the normal manner.


    As she stood up with the load on her back, Olof came over to her. ¡°Let me know if it¡¯s too heavy for you, I¡¯m quite strong you know¡±, he said, tainting his attempt at chivalry with his bragging. After finding that the weight was almost negligible, the girl couldn¡¯t help but mock Olof, even if she might come to regret it later.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t this a bit too light?¡± She said. ¡°Give me some more to steady the load!¡±


    Olof frowned at this but was glad to decrease his own burden. He fastened the rabbits to the rucksack as she wore it, and the girl found that it really wasn¡¯t too much. She felt certain that she would be able to carry this load for days at least.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Bj?rn gave her a worried look. ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± he said, as he and Olof hoisted their own load onto their shoulders.


    The girl smiled and waved his worries away. ¡°Yeah, no worries!¡± she said. To be honest, the girl was a bit troubled. Not by the weight per say, but rather her ability to lift it. She used to work out a lot and she considered herself fit. But not this fit. She was easily carrying close to half of the catch and it felt light as hell. This was not how she used to be before she woke up in the valley, that much was certain. The worrying conclusion to this was that not only was the world and the creatures all kinds of fucked up, but she was as well.


    It was a disheartening experience, not feeling at home in your own body. Judging by all the superhero movies that she had seen, a power-up should be a happy, confidence boosting event. Like Peter Parker when he made the switch from bullied nerd to standing up to his tormentors. But to her it just made her feel out of place and unsure of her capabilities. It also made her wonder what else could have changed in her body.


    The tree of them traversed the forest at a good pace, and as they followed the brook out of the woods it steadily grew. By the time the trees begun to thin out, the brook was more or less the same size as the creek she had gather oysters in.


    When they finally left the forest behind them, the girl saw a gap in the mountains that seemed to be what they were heading towards. The water snaked its way towards the gap, growing bigger and bigger in the distance.


    Bj?rn saw the girl look at it and offered some background information. ¡°The surrounding mountain drop off their water into this valley, this creek is always flowing¡±, he said. ¡°The water is always drinkable, that¡¯s why we built our village next to it¡±, he added.


    ¡°So the village is nearby?¡± The girl asked and looked around.


    ¡°Sure¡± Said Bj?rn and chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s just outside the pass over there¡± he added. It was hard to judge distance in the empty valley that was between the forest and the pass. If not for the many times Bj?rn had travelled this way he would have sworn that it was only an hour away. Sadly, it was the longest and dullest part of the journey, several hours of stupidly walking along the creek, with no change in scenery. Still, they had made great time so far thanks to the girl and was almost an hour ahead of schedule.


    That girl really was a mystery. Showing up in the middle of night in an empty valley who¡¯s only known entrance was guarded by their village. On top of that she looked like she had walked through hell and just barely survived. She was skinny to the point of looking sick and her long brown hair looked like it hadn¡¯t ever been cut. And she was barefoot, but it was hard to tell from just looking at her feet. They seemed to have adapted to their punishment to such a degree that they had begun to look like shoes. On top of all that she carried almost as much as he and Olof, and she wore the skin of a pig-otter. He would never have bought her story of killing the vicious predator, if not for the ill prepared skin that constituted her only clothing.


    The three of them stopped for dinner when it was about an hour left of the journey. It was the usual fair of dried meet. It wasn¡¯t really to Bj?rn¡¯s taste, but the girl devoured it with great appetite. It was something about her that felt off, and that was apart from her physical oddities. It might have just been her weird dialect, or the strange words that she liked throwing around. He just felt like she was fundamentally different from normal people. Lucky for him, he wouldn¡¯t have to deal with the mess that would no doubt follow in her wake. That was for the village elders to deal with.


    Once they had finished lunch and Olof had done the dishes, they once again took off towards the village. It was an uneventful walk and only Olof kept talking. Eventually the village came into view. The girl couldn¡¯t help but stop to admire the view. The village was located on the very edge of the valley, and in the middle of the village was a road that continued down the slope outside of the valley. Alongside the road winded the creek as it steadily picked up speed. It wasn¡¯t a terribly big village, just fifty or so houses that was nestled into the mountainside, bundled up on the sides of the road and the creek. Small bridges littered the creek, allowing passage at strategic locations.


    Down on the far away ground she could just about make out what looked like the worn-down ruins of a small city. Surrounding it on all sides was a huge forest that more or less dominated the view.


    The girl turned around to ask Bj?rn about the village, but him and Olof hadn¡¯t noticed her stopping, and they were already far away. She saved her question and left the view and its splendour to its own devices. She caught up with the two just about as they stopped by one of the outlying buildings of the village. Bj?rn and Olof begun unloading the animals that they had carried, and when they were done they removed the girls load as well.


    ¡°When this is taken care of you will need to speak to the village elders¡± Bj?rn said and addressed the girl. ¡°For now, you can help us and maybe learn a thing or two¡± he continued. As soon as the animals had been unloaded, the rabbits that they had caught was sent away to be cooked immediately. Bj?rn and Olof grabbed an animal each and began skinning them right away. Afterwards they used a curved tool with two handles to rapidly remove the fat and meat that was stuck on the inside of the skin. The rest of the animal had quickly been picked up by some kid in an apron, who shot curious glances at the girl. She felt a hint of irritation as she watched the two hunters make short work of something that had taken her a full day.


    ¡°Make sure to memorize the way I do it¡± Olof said gleefully as he noticed her irritation.


    His gleeful face turned annoyed as Bj?rn slapped him lightly in the back of the head. ¡°Don¡¯t talk so much boy!¡± He said. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that this is about the only thing you are somewhat good at¡±. Olof regained some of his energy when he heard the last part. The admittance from Bj?rn was the most praise he had gotten in ages.


    When the girl got tired of watching Olof show off she joined in just to quicken the process. They wouldn¡¯t let her skin the animals, so instead she got stuck on washing the skins. When the skins were scraped and washed they got strung up on wooden frames and left to dry. Processing the animals had taken a long time, and the girl was looking forward to maybe sleeping in an actual bed for once.


    ¡°Ok kiddo, let¡¯s go!¡± Bj?rn said to the girl as soon as they had finished the last the skins. He seemed eager to leave. The girl shot a glance at the man and thought she caught a longing look in his eyes. Was there perhaps someone waiting for him somewhere?


    The walk to the elders lead them straight through the village. The road they walked on was made of larger stones and mud in between. The houses that lined the road was placed haphazardly and was made from thin logs standing up. They had no windows and the roofs were flat. It looked as if someone had tried rebuilding a Viking village.


    ¡°Here we are¡±, Bj?rn said as they approached a house that was slightly longer than the rest. It wasn¡¯t really better made or nicer, it was just longer. He opened the door without knocking and stepped inside. The girl followed without being invited and shut the door. Inside it was smoky to the point of tearing her eyes, and it was so dark that she could only barely make out the other people that was inside. Bj?rn had walked quickly towards them and they now had a quiet conversation. The girl felt quite self-conscious as she was obviously the topic of their conversation. Before she had noticed, their conversation had ended and Bj?rn was making his way out of the building with a definite spring in his step. He slapped a hand on her shoulder and wished her good luck a second before slamming the door shut.


    The girl watched him go before she turned around towards the so-called elders. She was met with curious and calculating eyes. ¡°Sit down dear¡±, one of the elders said.

 6 – With age comes wisdom

    The one who had spoken was a woman who looked absolutely ancient. Her hair was grey and thin, and she was hunched over to such a point that straightening up surely was impossible. The woman was constantly moving her mouth as if she was sucking on something, giving off a harmless vibe. That harmlessness did not extend to her eyes. They were a steely grey and since the woman had spoken they had been constantly boring into the girl¡¯s eyes, effortlessly subduing the girl. This woman was clearly used to leading people, and the girl guessed that people obeyed for other reasons than simple reverence for age. After having suffered her stare, the girl had a hunch that obeying her would usually prove to be the wisest choice. Or maybe at least the safest one.


    Standing a respectful step behind her was a man and a woman. Judging by the way they touched each other they were a couple, and a loving one at that. They were both old, but it was a normal kind of old rather than the impossible age of the woman with the eyes. They had the look of a couple just turned grandparents, who was still full of enthusiasm and energy enough to dote on a bellowed grandkid. The girl wasn¡¯t sure what it was that caused her to think that way. Maybe it was something in the way they both held a genuine but reserved smile, like they were both comfortably standing knee deep in a pool of affection. The girl mentally made a barfing sound, after which the woman with the eyes chuckled. The girl felt a jolt through her body. Had she imagined things, or had the old crone actually followed her thoughts?


    She shot a sideways look at the old woman who just stood there and smiled. The silence in the room and the presence of the old one¡¯s stare was starting to get to the girl and she shifted nervously in her chair.


    ¡°Are you nervous, child?¡± Asked the old woman, her smile enlarging.


    The girl met the old woman¡¯s eyes. ¡°No¡±, she lied.


    The old woman looked at her calmly, evidently comfortable in her domination of the room. The seconds went by and the girl could have sworn she heard the tick-tack of a clock fill the silence, but as far as her searching eyes could tell there was no clock in the room. As time continued to fill the room the girl felt an increased pressure, but the elders seemed to be in no rush. After what felt like an eternity she could feel the old crone reaching out towards her, like a glacial ice conquering a mountain one centimetre at a time. Eventually the old woman¡¯s hand reached her face, and a single bent finger caressed her cheek. It was a soft and careful touch from a finger so worn by time that its skin hung like empty plastic bags from the little meat that remained on it. As the finger finished its path and left her face the old woman seemed content and giggled quietly. ¡°Boy!¡± She said, apparently addressing the old man behind her. ¡°Tell her the story of the ghost in the valley¡±, she ordered and utilized a wooden cane to slowly remove herself from the room.


    The old man scratched the back of his head. ¡°Uh, maybe we should introduce ourselves first?¡± He said, his voice relaxed and comfortable to listen to. He got no reply from the old crone who was already gone. This didn¡¯t surprise him and he continued without pause. ¡°I¡¯m Gunnar and this is my wife Karin.¡± He said and rested his hand on the shoulder of the woman next to him.


    ¡°How do you do?¡± Said the woman and studied the girls face. The woman had an amused twist to her smile, as if she had seen this scene before and found it equally humours every time.


    ¡°Good, thanks¡±, said the girl. ¡°My name is¡­¡± She continued but was interrupted by the woman.


    ¡°Hanna, yeah we know.¡± The woman filled in. Hanna had no trouble imagining how things got done in this village.


    ¡°So you were lost, were you?¡± The woman asked.


    Hanna was a bit caught off guard at the sudden change in pace. ¡°Uh, yeah. Sure¡±, she said. The woman narrowed her eyes at this.


    ¡°And before you got lost, where were you then?¡± The woman continued.


    ¡°I was in the woods, camping¡± answered the girl. She thought it was a good enough approximation. She didn¡¯t feel like spilling all the details of how she got here, it would suck if they burnt her on a stake or something.


    ¡°And where was this forest that you were in?¡± The woman asked, her amused smile growing. The girl felt panic build in her chest and inaudibly cursed. This was all going to quick, she needed more time to prepare her answers. She searched her brain for a solution but it didn¡¯t stop to wait for her.


    ¡°In the valley?¡± Hanna heard her moronic brain say. Fuck you, brain. She thought. Now the shit had hit the fan.


    ¡°In the valley?, Okay¡­¡± Said the woman with the disbelieving tone used by thousands of parents before her. Then she let the silence grow. Hanna was beginning to guess at a relation between the woman and the crone.


    ¡°Young girl,¡± said the woman slowly. ¡°I think we both can agree that is not where you came from. You are hiding something important and I¡¯m not letting you off the hook until you prove to me that you are not a danger too this village¡±. She finished with a stern look in her eyes. Next to her the old man was poorly trying to do the same look.


    Hanna tightly gripped the seat of her chair and desperately tried to come up with a suitable answer. Would they even believe her if she said that she didn¡¯t remember? Her effort proved fruitless and eventually she gave up. She hung her head in defeat and sighed. Here goes, she thought.


    Then she retold all that had happened to her since she that night in the army, how she woke up in the valley without her gear and rifle, her run in with the pig-otter and eventually bumped into Olof and Bj?rn.


    When she was done she looked the woman in her eyes, trying to judge her reaction. The man had boiled them all some tea and was currently sitting in his chair, absentmindedly stirring his tea with a spoon. The woman had her arms crossed and seemed fully occupied with processing what she had heard.


    ¡°What¡¯s a rifle?¡± Asked the old man.


    Hanna turned around with a snap, having more or less forgotten his presence. She was surprised by his lack of knowledge. She really shouldn¡¯t be after having a similar talk with Olof earlier, but it was hard to get over the fact that common knowledge really wasn¡¯t common here. ¡°It¡¯s a, uh¡­¡± She said. ¡°It¡¯s like a metal tube that uses a quick burning substance to push out small pieces of metal at great speeds¡±.


    ¡°Ingenious!¡± Exclaimed the man. He seemed bewildered by the subject.


    ¡°Honey,¡± The woman cut him off. ¡°Maybe we should stick to what¡¯s important?¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure honey,¡± the old man agreed. The girl got a feeling that he felt that meant moving away from what was actually important.


    ¡°Did it have a name, this place you lived at before your¡­ gap in memory?¡±, the woman asked. The way she pronounced gap made the girl think of someone doing quotation marks with their fingers.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Sure¡± answered Hanna, not really sure if she was asking about her county or her city. ¡°I was stationed outside of a small village called Kvarn¡±.


    ¡°But it still contained technological feats like this¡­ rifle you mentioned?¡± Once again the quotation marks could be heard.


    ¡°No, uh well yes, but¡­¡± The girl was unsure of how to continue. ¡°That kind of technology wasn¡¯t considered special. Even kids had access to much more advanced things, like smartphones and stuff.¡± Hanna was beginning to feel that she was actively painting herself into a corner.


    ¡°Even a kid like you?¡± Asked the woman. The way she said it made the girl think this had been settled a while ago. The girl nodded in response, to busy thinking of the implications to answer by voice.


    ¡°Ok¡± Said the woman. ¡°You can stay in this village. In return, I expect your full compliance in all matters¡±.


    Hanna blinked a few times before she agreed. She had the distinct feeling that a trade had taken place. She just wasn¡¯t sure exactly what she had agreed to.


    The woman looked at her like she had already moved on and was annoyed that the girl was still taking up her precious time. ¡°Scuttle over to Bj?rn, he will give you some equipment. We can¡¯t have a member of my tribe walking around naked¡± She said and pushed her out of the building.


    The door slammed shut when she was done. When the girl was out of earshot she turned to her husband. Her face immediately dropped some of its business-like harshness.


    ¡°Phew!¡± She said while exhaling. ¡°Grandma really outdid herself, didn¡¯t she?¡± She asked her husband, who nodded in response. He went over to her and hugged her lovingly as they continued their conversation. ¡°Make sure you learn everything you can from her.¡± The woman said. The man only continued nodding. ¡°Mark my words, that girl is going to shake things up.¡± She said, uncertain if that was a good thing or not.


    As the girl walked out of the building she paused. She was for the first time alone in the village. It felt like she was at one of those large medieval-fairs that made its participants wear period appropriate clothing. The village was a funny blend of sleepy and active. It had plenty of people moving around but compared to the buzzing vibe of a city it was practically dead. Plus the fact that most people moved about really slowly. Animal sounds could be heard everywhere, and somewhere the rhythmic sound of metal striking metal could still be heard, despite the late hour. If all the RPGs the girl had played had gotten things right, then that was the sound of a smithy.


    The girl looked around. She didn¡¯t really know where Bj?rn was, but she guessed that she should start looking in the place where they skinned the animals. It ought to be easy to find her way back there, the village wasn¡¯t exactly big and the walk here had practically contained no turns. But it had gotten a lot darker while she met with the elders of the village, and the girl¡¯s sense of direction was terrible as it was. In the end she picked the direction that felt least wrong and set off.


    Fifteen minutes later Hanna was rather annoyed and was for the third time rethinking the direction. This happened to her far too often. She would set about in a direction, then second-guess her choice, change direction and then five minutes later regret changing it. By then she was always more or less lost. It was pitch black by now, and it wasn¡¯t like this shitty village even had streetlights. Or fucking signposts. It was like kilometres between houses where she was from, and they had still managed to put up signposts. The girl grumbled and looked around for some kind of help.


    Pretty much all houses were pitch black, which didn¡¯t really help with navigation. The girl walked at random and saw a house with a fire burning outside. A bunch of people was loitering around outside. Not having much choice, the girl walked towards the fire. The ground was more or less all mud with the exception for some random trash strewn about. She guessed that a not insignificant amount of the mud was actually animal dung. She kept her eyes on her feet as she carefully navigated between the least pleasant parts of the ground. As she rounded the last corner before the fire she bumped in to someone, who promptly fell into the mud.


    ¡°You fucking twat!¡± Screamed the mud-diver. It was a girl pretty much her own age. She was wearing some leather armour that looked better than the one Bj?rn wore, and she had several knifes attached to her chest. Her hair seemed to be copper, but it was hard to tell with the darkness and all the mud in the way. Behind her stood a girl and a boy. They both had that dull look in their eyes that better than anything identified a sidekick.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Asked the boy as he clumsily helped mud-girl up.


    She in turn slapped his hands away from her once she had gotten up, apparently too full of herself for common decency.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± Asked mud-girl with a harsh tone and accentuated her question with a shove in Hanna¡¯s chest.


    Hanna was beginning to get a feel for where this conversation was headed. She didn¡¯t really have the patience for it, she was pissed off as it was. ¡°Sorry¡± she said, as calmly as possible.


    To no-one¡¯s surprise that wasn¡¯t enough for mud-girl. ¡°Sorry?¡± She said with a mocking voice. ¡°What should I do with my fucking armour?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Wash it?¡± Hanna suggested. She was beginning to feel mighty annoyed with the whiny girl.


    At that Mud-girl stepped up her game. She head-butted Hanna, knocking her head back. Next thing she knew her side was screaming in pain. Forcing her head down she just about saw the knife that Mud-girl had stabbed her with. Her assailant took her lowered head as an invitation and finished her off with a powerful hook that sent her to the ground. With a triumphant look on her face, Mud-girl walked off, sidekicks in tow.


    Fucker! The girl thought as she laid in the mud, clutching her side. This was not how she had envisioned things would go. For a while she just laid there breathing. Then she begun laughing. She had imagined herself demonstrating her prowess, but instead she bit the dirt. How did that saying go now again? Toad in a well?


    Her musing was interrupted by a familiar face. ¡°I see you have met Birgitta,¡± Olof said as he was leaning over her. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I was stabbed¡± said the girl, and removed her hand for Olof to see.


    He knelt down by her side and took a look. ¡°Are you sure?¡± He said, looking doubtful. ¡°Do you mind if I¡­¡± He begun before he trailed off, his cheeks visibly turning red. The girl rolled her eyes and nodded her consent. Olof tentatively pushed his hand under her poncho. The girl would never admit it to his face, but his touch got her pulse running and made her face heat up. He poked his hand around the wound without finding what he was looking for. ¡°Does it hurt?¡± he asked.


    The girl focused on the feeling of her wound, and her face that had been scrunched up in pain relaxed. It didn¡¯t actually hurt. ¡°No¡± she said, with an audible confusion to her voice.


    ¡°It seems the knife only punctured your poncho¡±, he offered as explanation. He sounded as if he didn¡¯t really believe it himself. They both got silent and it got awkward fast. Meanwhile the boy had poked his finger through a hole in her poncho and was waving it around. When she saw it she laughed and playfully swatted his hands away. She held her hand up towards the boy, and he grabbed it and helped her up.


    ¡°Is she always like that?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Most of the time¡±, Olof answered, a slight sadness to his voice. The girl got the feeling that he had been on the receiving end of Mud-girls temper more than once. ¡°I heard that you went to see grandma and grandpa¡± he said, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.


    The girl raised her eyebrows at this. The relation certainly fit her image of him, pampered as he was. It also reminded her of why she had gone searching for Bj?rn. ¡°Yeah¡±, she said. ¡°Bj?rn was supposed to give me some clothes. Do you know where he is?¡±


    ¡°He is¡­ occupied at the moment¡±, was Olof¡¯s answer. The girl was pretty sure of what he was occupied with. It must have shown in her eyes because Olof started to develop a blush again.


    ¡°I guess I could help you instead¡± he said. He sounded as if he was sort of overstepping his authority. Not that the girl cared.


    He led them away towards a fairly large building with a large iron padlock hanging on the outside of the door. He fidgeted with the look for a while before it came loose. ¡°Wait here¡± he said, before he disappeared inside the building. From the inside a lot of noises could be heard, as if he was continually bumping in to stuff. A muffled ¡°Fuck!¡± led its way out through the door, and a good ten minutes later Olof exited the building. His nose was bleeding from one nostril and he was carrying a pair of boots and some clothing.


    ¡°These should be of the right size, unless my eyes deceive me¡±, he said, and they both froze. The girl didn¡¯t answer, she just raised her eyebrows questioningly. The boy¡¯s face was beet-red. ¡°Uhm, here you go¡±, he said, with his eyes towards the ground.


    The girl couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°What about a place to sleep?¡± She asked when it seemed like the boy was done taking the initiative.


    His head unwillingly rose from the ground and he looked like he wasn¡¯t very comfortable with how things had turned out. His face was cringed up as if he was hurt, and his voice was weak. It seemed he couldn¡¯t believe what he was about to say.


    ¡°Maybe you could sleep at my place?¡±

 7 - Kindergarten

    The sunshine leaked in through the many small gaps in the wall. Hanna awoke feeling well rested. This was something she had needed for a long time. She was lying in a wooden bed with a straw-filled mattress. It wasn¡¯t like home, but it was miles better than sleeping in the wilds.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake!¡± Said Olof, sounding both happy and terrified. He was carrying a bowl of porridge with a spoon stuck in it. He felt deadly tired and probably looked like it, but he tried to not let it show. ¡°I was just going to leave this here¡± he said, almost mumbling.


    The girl shone up at the sight of breakfast and grabbed the bowl. ¡°Thanks¡± she said and dug in. With his hands now empty, Olof seemed uncertain what to do with them. After an awkward pause he decided to just let them hang by his sides. He cursed to himself. Why was it so hard to act natural around this girl? When they had gotten here yesterday his mind had been racing. It got so bad that blood had begun to gather up in unwanted places. Not that things got easier when he had heard her drop that poncho of hers. She had come out from around the corner wearing the new cloths he had gotten her, minus the boots. He of course had to stand bent over like a moron just to hide what was going on below his waistline.


    The worst thing was that she had given him this teasing look, like she knew exactly why he was bent over. In the end he had managed to calm down and tried to play it cool. That had worked sort of okay until it was time to go to bed. They had stood by his bed and this potent silence had filled the room. It felt like they both thought about what would come next, and his heart had beaten like mad. His palms had been sweaty and his lips dry. Somehow he had finally found his courage, licked his lips and inhaled to say those dreaded words. Sadly, she had been just one moment faster.


    ¡°So, where will you sleep?¡± The girl had asked innocently, with five single words shattering all his unspoken hopes and desires. Feeling like an idiot for imagining them sharing a bed, he had done everything to hide his misunderstanding.


    Before he knew it, he had blurted out ¡°The floor¡±.


    The girl had giving him a sceptical look. ¡°Are you sure?¡± She had asked. ¡°Is there no better place for you to sleep than the floor?¡±


    ¡°No, the floor is fine¡± he had insisted, opting for some machoism in a futile attempt to save some face. At the same time there had been this voice in his head, cursing and insulting him.


    ¡°Okay.¡± She had said, her voice trailing off as if she was somewhat disappointed. And that had really sent his head spinning. Had he misunderstood? Would she had responded to his advance? Was she just teasing him? In the end he had barely gotten any sleep. The worst part was that today was combat practice, which he sucked at as it was.


    While he brooded over the tragedy of yesterday, the girl had gotten fully dressed. She had found a piece of string somewhere which she had used to tie up her hair. With her new hairdo and dressed in her new clothes she looked like a completely new person. Kind of like she almost fit in. But not really. Her eyes still made it very clear that she had seen and known things that he would never see. Why did that make her so attractive?


    She walked out of his house but stopped in the doorway. She turned around and looked him in the eyes. He felt himself swallow. ¡°Do you know where Bj?rn is?¡± She asked, and the sun lit up her hair as if it was on fire.


    ¡°I guess you could try the house where we prepared the skins yesterday¡±, was his reply, his mouth going dryer by each syllable.


    ¡°Will do¡± she said and waved. And then the door slammed shut and she was gone. Fucking hell! Thought the boy. This is absolute torture. Determined to find his way back to his normal self, he pushed all thoughts of the girl away from him. He was already late for practise anyway.


    As Hanna walked out of the stuffy house she was greeted by the invigorating sight of a village coming to life in the early hours of a beautiful day. The air had a crisp feel to it and the wind was slightly cold. The sun had just begun warming up the earth and there was still morning dew on the ground. She took a deep breath and thoroughly enjoyed being in the moment. She thought back to the previous night and chuckled. That boy could really be dense. Lucky for him he wasn¡¯t too bad to look at. She thought that she had sent out some pretty clear invitations, but it was as if he was determined to get them wrong. Oh well, she thought, that was his loss.


    The place where they had prepared the skins was sort of nearby to Olof¡¯s house and she quickly made her way there. It turned out that she was a lot better at navigating when she could actually see. Bj?rn was standing outside, rummaging about in a backpack. He waved and greeted her when she got closer. Standing by his side was one of the elders, the less-old woman. What was her name again, she thought. Karin?


    ¡°I was supposed to give you some equipment yesterday¡± Bj?rn said as she stopped in front of him. ¡°But apparently someone else had access to the keys.¡± He continued.


    Hanna didn¡¯t know what to say so she just smiled sheepishly. After a second or so of her smiling stupidly, Karin lost her patience and butted in. ¡°I heard something interesting yesterday¡±, she said. While she spoke, her hand reached out uninvited and pressed against the place where Hanna had been stabbed by Mud-girl. Bj?rn watched the exchange with a confused expression but said nothing. ¡°I heard that you got stabbed just about here¡±. Her eyes studied the Hanna¡¯s face carefully and no doubt noticed that she wasn¡¯t in any pain. ¡°And then, to everyone¡¯s surprise, you got up a minute after as if nothing had happened¡­¡±


    Hanna thought about what to say, but Karin wasn¡¯t really waiting for answers. ¡°Send her to the rest of the kids, I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll manage.¡± She said, looking at Bj?rn.


    Bj?rn looked slightly annoyed at that and sped up his rummaging in the backpack. As the girl focused she could just about make out him swearing over hotshots wasting the time of the common folk. Karin seemed to have heard something as well, because she snapped around with fire in his eyes.


    ¡°What was that?¡± She asked with a challenging tone.


    ¡°Nothing¡± said Bj?rn meekly and kept his gaze at the backpack.


    ¡°Thought as much¡± Karin said, and walked away. There was almost a slight swagger to her walk.


    When she was well out of earshot Bj?rn breathed out and turned towards Hanna. ¡°Did you get much rest?¡± He asked her, his eyes full of innuendo.


    The girl was unfazed by this. ¡°I could ask you the same¡±, she said. This got a laugh from the man.


    ¡°You are nestling in quickly¡± he remarked. When the girl looked at him with confusion he decided to elaborate. ¡°You have been assigned to the village¡¯s reserve troops. They are training as we speak.¡±


    The girl stood flabbergasted. She had accepted the deal with the elders because she thought that meant a roof over her head and not having to fight for her survival. This deal had sure gotten south fast.


    Bj?rn took the backpack he had been poking around in and handed it to her. Apparently it was what was missing of the equipment she was supposed to have. The girl took a quick peek inside and saw a small hatchet, a tiny knife, and what she guessed was some primitive version of a fire steel. There was also a water skin and a thick blanket.


    ¡°Thanks¡± she said and felt that it didn¡¯t really do her feeling of gratitude justice. This stuff was pretty much her most important lifeline, perhaps more so than the village itself, at least if it was going to send her into combat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¡± said Bj?rn and walked off. When he saw that the girl wasn¡¯t following he waved her along. ¡°Come on¡± he said. ¡°This will be fun!¡±


    The training grounds was located on the outskirts of the village, on the side opposite to where they prepared the skins. It was an open square surrounded by houses, with fresh straw spread about on a large patch in the centre. The straw was probably meant to cover up the mud that was everywhere in the village, but if it was, it was doing a so-so job. In the middle of it all was though looking woman. She was littered in scars and her very posture oozed danger. Her hair was a fiery red that was cut short, and her armour were of leather with metal plating. Strapped to her body was a grand assortment of knifes. The girl counted and there where at least a dozen of them. All in all, the woman bore a striking resemblance to the mud-diver of yesterday. The girl didn¡¯t like that at all.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Around the woman stood a bunch of teenagers, attentively listening as they were being yelled at. Most of them where new faces but among them was both Olof and Mud-girl. With the mud cleared off her and in broad daylight her features were easier to discern. Hanna could grudgingly concede that she looked sort of attractive, if you weren¡¯t put off by self-absorbed assholes. There was a slight smirk to her smile, as if she knew a most curious secret. Complementing that was a broken nose, with a short horizontal scar right where it was bent. Together, it gave of an intriguing aura, as if she had experienced something more than others and grown from the experience. Lucky bastard, thought the girl.


    Olof stood near her. He had a focused look in his eyes, and he seemed intent on absorbing every word that the woman screamed at them. It gave her a feeling of nostalgia, like being back in the army again. It was a set-up that she knew well. The yelling part was meant to make sure everyone tried their beast, and to make sure no one got any funny ideas. Of course, they usually needed some sort of reason for the yelling, but put a bunch of teenagers together and they created enough reasons all by themselves. The trick to taking it well was to not take it personally, and to understand what they were actually saying. Olof didn¡¯t look like he had figured that out yet. He was definitely taking it personally. He flinched to the rhythm of her insults, the woman¡¯s pointing finger a metronome that his eyes followed closely. Poor guy.


    The woman eventually seemed to lose some steam, and Bj?rn took that has his que to interrupt. He walked up to the woman and spoke a few words. At first the woman glared at him, but when she saw the girl in his tow she smiled. Hanna got the feeling that the woman knew they were coming. Bj?rn turned away from the woman and walked back to the girl. He patted her shoulder and wished her good luck as he left, not looking her in the eyes as he did so.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard you are pretty though¡± said the woman, her eyes focusing on Hanna. ¡°Apparently you were walking minutes after being stabbed by my daughter.¡± Her last remark sounded like an insult, and judging by the glare she gave her, it was aimed at Mud-girl. The smile that she got in return was forced and ironic. Their relationship was apparently not all hugs and kisses. The woman locked eyes with her daughter for a second, before she turned towards Hanna once again.


    ¡°From now on, you will be coming here every weekday. In return, I will try my best to make you somewhat useful to the village. If I ever find you anything less than thankful for this honour, I will personally make sure to instil some gratitude in you. Is that understood?¡±


    Her speech sounded rehearsed. It was hard to tell if it was because she sat at home rehearsing it, or if it simply had been delivered one time too many. Judging by the smile on the surrounding teenagers, the girl was willing to bet it was the latter. Also, she had a hard time imagining the woman standing at home in front of a mirror, reading written down lines from a paper.


    The woman brought her out of her musings with a heavy swat to her head. It didn¡¯t really hurt, but it felt deeply humiliating. The girl took solace in the fact that she at least hadn¡¯t fallen over. ¡°Wow, this is a promising start¡±, said the woman ironically. ¡°Let me make this clear: You do what I tell you to do. And if I ask you something, you fucking answer¡±


    There was a clear hint of menace in the woman¡¯s tone. Hanna felt a shiver along her back, but she knew this dance. Don¡¯t do stupid stuff, give the right answers. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.


    ¡°Yes¡­ sir?¡± Shit, she thought. I never had a female officer before. Does this village even have officers?


    Lucky for her, the woman only chuckled at her mistake. ¡°We don¡¯t have rank here¡±, the woman said. ¡°Birgitta will do¡±


    The girl was confused. Wasn¡¯t that the name of her daughter?


    Birgitta senior sighed. She must have seen her confusion. ¡°Yes, I named my daughter after myself. Do you have a problem with that?¡±


    That¡¯s healthy and non-confusing, Hanna thought. This meant that Mud-girl would be keeping her nickname, it could be shortened to ¡°Muddy¡± at least. Or maybe she should just call her number two? The girl only barely held her laughter.


    ¡°No, Birgitta¡± she said.


    Birgitta took Hanna¡¯s compliance as a sign that she had gotten her point across and moved on. ¡°Now, why don¡¯t you introduce yourself to your fellow reservists? Name and where you come from should suffice.¡±


    The girl froze. She had not expected this. What would she even say? ¡°Hey all. My name is Hanna¡±, she began. So far so good, she thought. They were all looking at her. Olof had a sympathetic look in his eyes. Muddy in turn was glaring daggers. Hanna smiled at her. ¡°I¡¯m happy to be here¡±, she said. ¡°I recently woke up in the valley. No clue how I got there, but now I¡¯m here!¡± She tried ending it with a happy tone.


    All of them, including Olof and Muddy, was looking at her with doubtful eyes. Maybe she had been a bit short on detail, but what could she really have said? Some off the teenagers had begun giving off a different kind of vibe. It was hard to tell if it was fear or anger, but it was definitely directed at her. A few of them where whispering, and the commotion quickly spread in the group. Hanna felt uneasy, this was clearly different from normal curiosity. Something was definitely going on.


    Before anything else happened Birgitta broke the tension by clapping her hands together. This seemed to be some sort of signal, because all of the teenagers snapped to attention. Hanna followed suit. Whatever had just happened would have to wait until this was done. Birgitta went on to introduce the focus of today¡¯s practice, close quarter fighting. Apparently the standard equipment for the armed forces of the village was a spear, but those who knew how to use them was also given a short sword and a shield. Today they would be working on how to fight when the opponent was to close for the spear to work well, meaning this was sword and shield practice.


    Birgitta instructed everyone to fetch a sword and shield, and all of the reservist ran off towards a nearby building. Hanna didn¡¯t really know what to do but decided to stick with the crowd. That was usually the right answer. Once inside the building the girl found rows of neat shelfs, lined with armour and weapons. She had been the last one to enter due to her hesitation. By the time she had gotten to the shelves everyone was gathered around, only a few shields and swords remained. She couldn¡¯t really tell a good sword from a bad, but she was willing to bet that all of these left-overs were pretty shitty. Hanna grabbed one of each at random and tried to walk out. Olof stood in the doorway, blocking the way. He threw a look at her equipment before he silently changed her shield for another of the remaining ones.


    ¡°The strap was broken on that one. Now hurry up!¡± He said, a slight nervousness to his tone.


    They sprinted to catch up with the rest, who was already forming a half circle in front of Birgitta. She grabbed a volunteer from the waiting teenagers. It was a puffy boy with thin hair and a defeated look. He stood before her, his hand white from how hard he gripped the handle of his sword. At her instruction he swung his sword towards her side. Before the sword had gotten halfway to its goal, Birgitta stepped into his swing and slammed his hand away with her shield. At pretty much the same time she slammed her sword-hand into his ribs. The sword flew from his hand and the boy fell over.


    ¡°The essence of close combat is to get in real close, and then to make sure you hurt them. There is too little time and too little space for any story time duels. Stick them in the gut. If you can¡¯t, then take whatever is in the way, and stick it in the gut!¡± The woman had a smug smile as she ended her speech. She looked as if she had just gifted away some sort of profound wisdom to her young students.


    Hanna was less than impressed with her teaching-skills and did her best to make sense of what had happened. She had dabbled for a couple of years in boxing and Wing Chun. She wasn¡¯t very good in either, but what the woman had done looked somewhat similar to what her Sifu was constantly nagging about. Redirecting force or has he had said it: cutting through the centre-line. The woman hadn¡¯t stopped the force in the boy¡¯s swing, she had just made sure that it wasn¡¯t a danger to her by changing its path somewhat. And in the same time she had positioned herself really close to his torso, making sure he had a hard time striking her as well as giving her nice and easy access to his vulnerable stomach. Before she had moved, her knees had been slightly bent and she seemed to be standing rather lightly on her feet. Once she had moved, too much had happened at the same time to be really certain, but thinking back, Hanna could just about imagine her movements. She had probably pushed off with enough force to completely shift her centre of gravity, keeping one foot on the ground as support. In essence she had been falling towards the boy¡¯s arm, her core rigid to make sure the momentum of her lunge added to the force of her blow. It was a solid move, but it also meant she had to hit her target in order to not lose her balance. Maybe it was a worthwhile trade off. At such close distances she was pretty much bound to hit something.


    Once the boy had somewhat recovered, Birgitta told everyone to form pairs. With the addition of Hanna to the rooster, their numbers were now uneven. That meant that poor puffy-boy got to stick to his current sparring partner. He had a pained look in his eyes. Hanna on the other hand had quickly snatched Olof. He didn¡¯t seem very happy with their pairing, but he didn¡¯t voice any complaints. Hanna looked at the sword and the shield in her hands. She hadn¡¯t held anything like them before, but she was starting to feel a budding enthusiasm in her heart. She genuinely wanted to learn using these. That enthusiasm waned somewhat when she saw Muddy walking up to Olof, saying nothing as she pushed him away. She continued walking until she stopped right in front of her. The way she held her sword and the relaxed confidence of her posture suddenly seemed very intimidating. On her face was a big smile, but it didn¡¯t hold a lot of warmth. Her eyes had a hungry look.

 8 – Making enemies

    Hanna felt her heart beat loudly in her chest. Her palms were soaked in sweat and everything on her body felt itchy and slightly out of place. Her nails felt too long, and she thought she might have a small pebble in her left shoe. She guessed it was her body¡¯s way of telling her it wanted more control of the situation, but it was a really effective distraction. It continually got in the way of what she needed to think about, which was what she could do to keep from being humiliated again.


    She didn¡¯t fear for her safety, at least not with so many witnesses. It surprised her how much her pride seemed to matter to her. Why did she care if she was beaten again? She had zero training and the smug fuck in front of her probably had a lifetime¡¯s worth. But it was something inside of her that demanded retribution, something that refused to go down once again.


    So she pushed all distractions away and tried to prepare herself. She had absolutely no experience of using a sword or a shield. Before the gap in her memory, the only times she had seen either of them was at museums or medieval-fairs. The only remotely relevant knowledge she had was the basic understanding of combat she had gotten from boxing and Wing Chun. That meant she knew how to generate force by shifting the weight of your body, and it meant she knew how to guard herself by redirecting the angle of incoming blows. That was it, that pretty much summed up all her applicable knowledge.


    As she held the sword in her hand and felt its weight, she realized that swinging it around would be quite different from fighting bare handed. It wasn¡¯t very heavy, but it at least weighed a kilo or two. That meant that it would be harder to accelerate, and it would also be harder to change its direction. She tried to play out a few strikes in her mind, trying to determine what might be feasible. It felt pretty futile, without actually trying it she couldn¡¯t really tell what would work or not. With a mental sight she realized that she would simply have to wing it.


    Throwing a look at Birgitta she realized she must have zoned out pretty hard, because she seemed to have been talking for a while. Not much that could be done about that now though.


    ¡°Ok¡± said Birgitta. ¡°Now that everyone knows what to do I¡¯m not going to hold you up any longer. Get to it!¡±


    Fuck, thought the girl. She looked around in search for some clue to what they should be doing. All around her everyone had begun to aimlessly approach their partners, weapons in hand. It seemed most were a little hesitant to suddenly go about striking each other. Of course, this did not include the bloodthirsty asshole that she had gotten paired up with. Hanna had turned towards Muddy to see if she knew what they were supposed to do, but all she could see was a wooden shield speeding towards her.


    A moment later the air left her lungs and her feet were no longer touching the ground. It felt like she fell for ages before she hit the ground. The mud and the hay did a decent job of absorbing the impact, so it didn¡¯t hurt too much. What really bothered her was the satisfied face Mud-girl made as she looked down on her for the second time in as many days.


    ¡°No lazing about, this is not your naptime!¡± Shouted Birgitta, and Hanna felt that the words were aimed at her. So she pushed herself up again, and noticed that she wasn¡¯t hurting anywhere. That was something at least. Muddy had backed off after her tackle, and she was looking increasingly annoyed by how easily she had gotten up again. They were both standing up now, slowly circling each other. Circling your opponent had been a mainstay in all the books and movies of Hanna¡¯s life before the gap. It felt really silly as she walked around in a circle, but it seemed like a natural thing to do in the situation. She kept her eyes peeled on her opponent. The cheating bastard would not be catching her unaware again.


    The tackle from before had done a good job of removing some of her nervousness, now she felt a lot more focused. She studied Muddy¡¯s posture, looking for any signs of her springing into action. It came a quarter of a circle later. Muddy took a quick step forward, effectively eating up most of the distance between them. She stabbed with her sword towards the lower part of Hanna¡¯s stomach. Hanna was waiting for her but wasn¡¯t sure how much that would help her. In Wing Chun her guard would be up, and she would then lower and twist her arm to avoid any damage. That applied to someone not stabbing you with a sword, so it wasn¡¯t really applicable. Plus the fact that neither her sword nor her shield was anywhere near where she needed them to be. Not having many options she stepped back, hoping to avoid the reach of her opponents sword.


    It sort of worked. The tip of the sword struck her square in her stomach. It hurt, but it didn¡¯t knock her over like before. More importantly, the blunted tip hadn¡¯t pierced her through. For a fraction of a second she stood there, a bit bent over, reeling in the rush of the moment. From the corner of her eye she could see Mud-girl raise her sword to strike again. Like hell you will, thought the girl. Taking advantage of her bent down position, she resolved to put all she had in an uppercut. Adding the strength of her legs and her back, she slammed her shielded hand into the exposed ribcage of her opponent. The way her arm was strapped to the shield meant that she hit her with the rim of the shield.


    For a brief moment everything seemed to grind to a halt, and she imagined that she saw surprise in Muddy¡¯s eyes. Then a loud crack echoed over the square. The shield exploded into splinters as the force of the blow lifted her opponent from the ground. Hanna¡¯s mind was screaming in happiness, and she felt like walking over and dropping a one-line like in a movie. She didn¡¯t do it though.


    As Muddy hit the ground, everyone stopped what they were doing. Everywhere around her, people were looking accusingly at her. All of them were whispering amongst each other. Some of the voices were lauder than others.


    ¡°Did you see that? Fucking freak!¡± someone said. Hanna didn¡¯t catch the speaker.


    ¡°She punched her off the ground, that¡¯s not normal!¡±


    Hanna spun around, looking for the instigator. It turned out to be Muddy¡¯s female minion, the one that had been there when she had been stabbed. Hanna felt her anger raise up. Blood was pulsing in her forehead and she practically growled at her. Say one more fucking word, I dare you.


    The minion saw her anger and gave out a yelp. ¡°She is coming for me now, help me!¡± she screamed. Hanna rolled her eyes. A second later the air left her lungs. Something hit her hard in the back, as she bent over trying to get some of her breath back she saw that it was a shield that someone had thrown. The pain wasn¡¯t too bad, she just wasn¡¯t expecting the blow.


    ¡°Get away from her, ghoul!¡± said the one who had thrown his shield. It was the second of Muddy¡¯s minions, the male one. Hanna didn¡¯t get slur, maybe it was some local insult? It certainly had put a frenzy in the villagers. Now pretty much everyone was talking animatedly while staring at her.


    Birgitta chose this moment to step forward. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough¡± she said. Everyone turned towards her. Behind her was Mud-girl. She was on her knees with a puddle of puke in front of her. She looked miserable and had plenty of vomit around her mouth. That¡¯s something at least, thought the girl.


    ¡°Hanna!¡± Birgitta snapped, with a furious tone in her voice. ¡°Did I not explicitly tell you guys to take it easy and focus on the fundamentals?¡±


    Hanna didn¡¯t respond. She hadn¡¯t heard any instructions. Birgitta frowned at her silence. They locked eyes for a couple of seconds, until Birgitta flashed her a menacing smile.


    ¡°That¡¯s it everyone, practice is over!¡± She said, and the teenagers begrudgingly shuffled off to return the equipment. Mud-girl limped away with the help of her two sidekicks. Hanna begun to leave as well when Birgitta stopped her. ¡°You obviously have to stay and explain yourself Hanna¡±, she said.


    Hanna felt herself swallow. ¡°There really isn¡¯t much to say¡± she said. ¡°She tackled me before I was ready and I was feeling pretty vengeful.¡±


    Birgitta cut her off. ¡°Thanks, but I saw that. I don¡¯t give a fuck about your pitiful teenage-rivalry. Tell me how you managed to punch her hard enough to splinter the shield.¡±


    Hanna was not expecting that to be the problem. ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t know, I just struck as hard as I could¡± was her eloquent answer.


    ¡°What sort of combat training have you done before you got here?¡± Birgitta said with furrowed brows.


    ¡°Nothing really.¡± Hanna answered, before she remembered that her Boxing and Wing Chun probably counted. ¡°I have practiced a little unarmed fighting, but that¡¯s it¡±.


    Birgitta was obviously not satisfied with her answer. She looked her over, and even went around her as she did so. Then she put her hand on her biceps and squeezed. The hand could almost reach the whole way around her arm, and the squeeze she gave did not meet much resistance. Birgitta sneered at this, before she put her hands on both sides of Hanna¡¯s hips and lifted her up. She didn¡¯t even look strained as she did so. Birgitta had a disappointed look as she put her down again. ¡°You are no longer a reservist¡± she said.


    The sentence struck Hanna hard. She hadn¡¯t even completed a full day of practice, but she felt a strong desire to learn how to fight. She could tell herself that it was because she needed to learn how to fend for herself, but that wasn¡¯t it. There was a strange allure to a tool that was exclusively made for violence, and it harmonized with something deep inside her that longed for conflict and bloodshed. The way that all that had been taken away from her made her furious. It felt so unfair, what she had done was nothing compared to what Birgitta¡¯s own daughter had done.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Her increasing fury came to a halt when she heard Birgitta chuckle. ¡°Stop it with the evil-eyes girl. I¡¯m practically doing you a favour¡±, she said. ¡°The whole reservist circus is more or less a way for us to babysit the too active portions of the village¡¯s youths. Her insulting the thing she desired didn¡¯t really placate Hanna¡¯s feelings.


    ¡°You are getting something better in return¡±, she continued. ¡°From now on, you will be training with me¡±.


    Hanna blinked. This was a turn she hadn¡¯t expected. After having seen the woman in action earlier, she knew that it wouldn¡¯t be easy. But at the same time her pulse was already raising to the challenge. She knew she wanted this. ¡°I will make time for you every morning except weekends. You will show up, and you will do it on time. Is that clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes Birgitta.¡± Hanna answered, before her curiosity got the better of her. ¡°Why me though? What¡¯s so special about me?¡± She added.


    Birgitta had an evil smile. ¡°That¡¯s what we are going to find out¡± she said.


    The girl walked away from the practice field with a lot on her mind. She knew she was different compared to before the gap but seeing the scared and angry faces of the others made it a lot more real. The way they looked at her made her feel truly set apart from them. Maybe living isolated on a mountain didn¡¯t foster people into accepting outsiders, but they had seemed almost fervent in their anger. It made the girl rethink staying in the village. In the two days she had stayed here she had been stabbed and managed to alienate a good part of the village. It wasn¡¯t exactly a match made in heaven.


    ¡°Hanna¡±, Olof said with a slight sadness to his voice. He was standing by one of the buildings around the practice field. He had obviously been waiting for her, which warmed the girl¡¯s heart a little. At least Bj?rn and Olof wasn¡¯t as hostile as the rest of them. But he shot her feeling down with a disappointed look. ¡°Why did you do that?¡±


    ¡°Do what? Fucking defend myself?¡± She answered with a sullen tone. She had been hoping for some comfort, not more hostility.


    Olof seemed annoyed. ¡°There is a pretty big difference between defending yourself and almost killing someone¡±, he said accusingly.


    ¡°Fuck off¡± she said in return and gave him the finger before walking away. His confused appearance told her that her gesture wasn¡¯t understood, but at least he didn¡¯t try following her. She snuck a glance over her shoulder when she thought that he wasn¡¯t looking. He was still standing where she left him, looking her way and scratching the back of his head. She walked around the nearest corner just to get him out of her view before she stopped. What now? She thought. She still hadn¡¯t been assigned a place to sleep so maybe she should try and fix that. Not that she remembered where the village elders were.


    She toyed with the idea of asking Bj?rn for help, but she didn¡¯t want to risk another person looking at her like she was a freak. She stood there aimlessly raking her mind for a better idea until it hit her. She was going to get absolutely shitfaced.


    Her sense of direction being what it was, she had to ask for directions. The one who helped her was an old man hanging some laundry. By the third time she asked with a loud voice where the pub was, she understood that the problem wasn¡¯t the volume of her voice but the words that was used. Once she threw in some charades and blurted some random words for alcohol he finally understood her. Apparently, the correct term was Alehouse.


    The alehouse wasn¡¯t as empty as she had imagined, given that it was still in the middle of the day. It was about the same size as the house of the elders. In front of the building was a small open square that sort of reminded her of the practice field, minus the hay. The only entrance to it was through a gap between two houses. As she passed the gap she realized that it was where she had been stabbed yesterday. It felt like ages ago.


    The square was littered with tables which were all more or less occupied. Everyone seemed to be eating the same thing, some grilled meat and mashed potatoes. The smell of it set her stomach grumbling, and it kept doing so even as she stepped into the relative darkness of the alehouse¡¯s interior.


    The only one that she could find inside was the barkeep. He was surprisingly young for his profession, probably around her own age. His hair was an unappealing mix of grey and brown, and over his lip was a short and well-kept moustache that only barely did more good than bad. Their eyes met and he seemed to look somewhat intrigued. It was hard to tell if it was the way she looked or if it was her being a stranger, but she had definitely caught his eye.


    Hanna walked up to the bar and leaned against it. Since he was doing the same their faces got a bit closer than she had intended, but it gave the moment a slightly electric feel that was sort of pleasant. So she kept her face where it was and studied the guy. His eyes were a mix of grey and blue, and his nose was ever so slightly bent to the right. It was hard to put it into words, but his face had something about it. Nothing in it was special on its own but put together the sum was definitely greater than its parts.


    The electricity between them still lingered and the silence grew. He was smiling slightly, and she realized that she was doing the same.


    ¡°So, I take it that you are the new girl?¡± he said.


    She winced. Maybe going to the pub wasn¡¯t the best idea if she wanted to leave stuff behind her. ¡°Uh¡­ yeah¡±, was what she managed to say in response.


    My fantastic¡­ it¡¯s talk, she thought, feeling like Andy Dwyer. The guy looked at her, apparently waiting for more.


    ¡°So¡­ What can I get you?¡± He asked when nothing more followed.


    Shit, she thought, as his question made her realize that she didn¡¯t have any money. ¡°I just realized that I don¡¯t have any money¡±.


    The barkeep blinked a few times as he heard this. ¡°And yet here you are, placing an order?¡±


    Hanna¡¯s stomach answered the question for her. ¡°I guess so¡± she said. ¡°Can I get a credit or something? Or do you guys need help with anything?¡±


    The guy seemed to be toying with an idea. His smile grew as he did so. ¡°Sure, I have a thing. Follow my lead¡±, he said with a mischievous look, walking out to the square where everyone was eating and cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Listen up folks!¡± He shouted, and everyone turned around as he did so. ¡°Two free meals to anyone who can best my friend! Only two coins a try!¡±


    What the fuck? Thought Hanna. She could almost feel it on her skin as everyone in the courtyard sized her up. This was not what I imagined.


    ¡°What¡¯s the game?¡± Asked a young man with his fist full of meat.


    ¡°Arm-wrestling!¡± Was the barkeeps answer. It made everyone burst out in laughter.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it!¡± Said the man from before, quickly finishing off the meat that he was holding. The barkeep led her over to the man¡¯s table with a hand on her back. She couldn¡¯t quite tell if it was meant as moral support or as insistence, which annoyed her a lot. What made it worse was the warm feeling his touch put in her body. They cleared the table and she sat down.


    The young meat-eater put his arm on the table and offered his hand for her to grab. It wasn¡¯t until she raised her eyebrows theatrically high that he remembered to wipe the abundant grease from is palm. He rolled his eyes and used his pants as a napkin. It didn¡¯t seem to do much of a difference, but Hanna let it be and grabbed his hand. It was slightly bigger than hers and it was still greasy. The barkeep fished around for anyone willing to bet on the outcome before he announced the start.


    The young meat-eater must have been certain of his victory, because he wasn¡¯t trying to push her down. Hanna on the other hand had been quite worried and therefore gone all out from the start. Put together, it explained why his fist had slammed into the table almost immediately. He had a pained look as he massaged his hand, and he seemed quite confused as to what had happened. As the barkeep proclaimed her the winner while waving her hand above her head, it seemed the rest of the crowd shared the meat-eaters confusion. Hanna was smiling smugly, obviously happy that her newfound strength finally did her some good. There was a discontented murmur among the crowd that continually grew until one of them slammed his table.


    ¡°Damnit ?ke!¡± He shouted. Judging by the annoyed tone he had probably just lost some money. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll fix this!¡± he said, waiving towards the barkeep. He in turn didn¡¯t look at all surprised. After having shuffled some people around to free up the space, Hanna was seated in front of her new opponent. The new challenger had a thin moustache that hung from the corners of his mouth, giving him an unwashed look. At least his hands are clean, Hanna thought as they prepared for the bout.


    She tried gauging his strength by looking at his arms, but his baggy clothes made it impossible. Her own arms felt like they were brimming with power. It was a strange feeling, not knowing how strong you were. Judging by how much more she had carried compared to Bj?rn and Olof it was clear that she was strong. But she had been far from her limit then and she felt eager to try her wings.


    Lucky for her, this man had learned from his friend¡¯s mistake and tried his best from the start. The girl did the opposite this time, feeling a lot more confident after her previous win. As she felt the man struggle it was obvious that he was strong. But with a bubbling sensation in her stomach the girl realized that she was more than his equal.


    She began to slowly push harder, and the man desperately tried to catch up. His face grew redder as he fought, but his hand moved ever closer to the table. Wanting to finish with bravado, Hanna pushed her hardest for a second, and the man¡¯s resistance instantly caved in. The scene from the first match repeated itself as the man¡¯s hand loudly slammed into the table. The onlookers sat quiet in disbelief as the barkeep took her for a victory lap between the tables.


    ¡°Any more challengers?¡± He asked as he finished collecting money from them. When no one showed any interest, he thanked them and returned inside. The girl followed him in. Outside a loud discussion erupted.


    ¡°55¡­ 56¡±, said the barkeep as he finished counting the money. ¡°I took the risk and came up with the plan¡­¡± He said and paused to do some internal discussions. ¡°I¡¯d say that this is more or less fair¡±. He then pushed about half of the money towards her.


    The coins were a metallic grey and of an almost uniform size. As far as the girl could tell they were all the same. She counted them and got it to 25. It didn¡¯t really seem fair to her, but it was a lot more then she had before so she didn¡¯t argue. ¡°How much for a meal and a beer?¡± She asked.


    ¡°A meal and a what?¡± was his reply. He had a teasing tone to his smile, as if he knew damned well what she meant. When she clarified that a beer was pretty much the same as an ale, he told her that the meal was four coins and the ¡°beer¡± would cost her a single coin. As she began picking the coins out he offered her a package deal, 25 coins for two meals, a room to sleep in and all the ale she could drink.


    The girl thought it over and figured that it sounded like an OK deal. Not that she had any way of comparing prices. By looking at the barkeeps smug face it was obvious that it wasn¡¯t by accident that the amount he had offered her was the exact total of her earnings. Cheeky bastard, she thought as she pushed the coins back to him. We¡¯ll see how smug you look when I¡¯ve finished drinking.

 9 – Small talk

    The barkeep served her the same food as the others, meat and mashed potatoes. Apparently, sauce wasn¡¯t a thing here, at least judging by the barkeeps amused headshake as she asked for some. The meat seemed to be normal pork, lightly salted but sadly quite dry. The mashed potatoes somewhat remedied the lack of sauce. It was rich and creamy, and it tasted as if they had added some juice from the meat. It wasn¡¯t guide Micheline material, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything she had eaten since the gap.


    The ale was not pleasant. It was served lukewarm in a wooden mug and tasted pretty much like stale bread. Not that it stopped the girl from chugging it all down. It was hard to tell from where she sat, but she thought she caught the young barkeep glancing at her as she did so. At first she decided to ignore him, but once the ale was gone she was struck by how slowly time passed in an empty room once you removed all modern distractions. The silence rang in her ears and she caught herself picking dirt from her nails. This definitely wasn¡¯t the rowdy break she had imagined. It was probably a lot livelier outside in the square, but she wasn¡¯t too keen on the drama that awaited her there. Quite a few angry shouts from sore losers had nestled their way inside. The girl couldn¡¯t blame them, by all rights she shouldn¡¯t have won those matches. Not that she felt sorry for them, the only reason they wagered their money was because they counted on easily taking some from her. Fuck them.


    ¡°Do you mind some company?¡± Asked the barkeep, two mugs in hand.


    ¡°Sure¡±, said the girl, and reached out to grab one of them. ¡°It¡¯s your place anyway, isn¡¯t it? She added.


    The barkeep scoffed. ¡°Nah, I just work here on weekdays, it¡¯s quite easy money.¡±


    The girl didn¡¯t really have any comment on that, so she just nodded and drank deeply from her mug. She finished with a burp and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. ¡°Anyways, what¡¯s your name?¡± She asked. She figured that if someone didn¡¯t have the decency to introduce themselves you bloody well made them.


    The barkeep brought down the mug from his face. His moustache was soaked in foam from the ale, but he routinely wiped it away with his arm. ¡°Oh my, I must have forgotten to introduce myself¡±, he said, flashing a smile at her. ¡°My name is Rune¡±.


    She grabbed his hand in a greeting before she remembered that it wasn¡¯t a normal thing to do here. Hanna withdrew her hand quickly, feeling like an idiot. Rune looked at her quizzically, but she didn¡¯t bother with trying to explain her action. The palm of his hand was strong and covered in calluses. The rough and raspy feel of his skin lingered on her mind after their almost-handshake. He had a light-hearted and mischievous aura about him that was enhanced by the little she had seen of his personality. These were not the hands that she would expect from such a person. These were the hands of someone who had practiced something diligently for a long time, to a point where their body slowly began to deliver what was needed of it. ¡°How did you know I would win?¡± asked the girl, pushing away the memory of his hand in hers.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t, but I wanted to see if you could. Also, the cost of making the meals are less than a coin each so I wasn¡¯t really risking anything¡± Rune answered. ¡±But keep that to yourself, will you?¡± He added after a slight pause.


    The girl glared at him as she realized exactly how much he had cheated her on. Lucky for him the ale had begun to kick in and she wasn¡¯t really in the mood for an argument. ¡°Yeah, what I meant was, who told you I was stronger than normal?¡± the girl clarified.


    ¡°You hear a lot as a barkeeper¡± he said, trying to dodge the question. Although there was probably plenty of people gossiping after what happened with Muddy, it seemed unlikely that the rumours had gotten here before her. Even if she had gotten a little lost on the way over.


    For a second the girl considered pressing him for an answer but decided against it. It didn¡¯t really matter a lot and she had another topic in mind that she was a lot more interested in. ¡°I guess you heard about what happened today,¡± she began. As Rune nodded with a smile she continued. ¡°Afterwards, a lot of the kids were all sorts of agitated talked about a ghost or a ghoul. It kind of stuck on me, since one of the elders brought it up when I first got here.¡± Her question wasn¡¯t really voiced out, but Rune would just have to manage.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t heard about the ghost of the valley?¡± He asked her in return, with clear mockery in his tone. To his annoyance the girl ignored his jape and just stared at him. ¡°It¡¯s the very reason that this village is located on the windy slopes of the mountains rather than in the sheltered and cosy valley that is lying right next to it.¡±


    Upon hearing the dramatic flair of his voice, the girl sighed inwardly. This was definitely going to take some time. She emptied her mug and watched his hands wave around as he spoke. ¡°First, get me two more of these, will you?¡± She said and pushed her empty mug into his hand.


    Apparently this village had been around for ages. No one knew when it was founded exactly, but more generations had been born here than people could remember. And for as long as this village had been here, people had been whispering about the ghost of the valley. As with all good legends it had thrived in the precarious state somewhere between credibility and complete bogus. No one could ever prove anything, but over the years more and more people claimed to have seen it. Of course, the sightings were always conveniently out of focus. Someone saw it in the corner of their eye, while another swears they saw it walking over the ridge by the horizon.


    One of the few more detailed accounts was from a hunter more or less a generation ago. According to that one, the hunter had been sitting by the fire when a chill had run over her back. When she had turned around to make sure she was imagining things she had nearly died from the shock. She had claimed that an almost translucent being had stood there, not moving an inch, just blankly staring forward. The hunter had fled the scene, making the long trip back to the village in the middle of the night.


    As was often the case, people weren¡¯t shy to fill in the blanks in order to flesh out the story. For every time it was told by parents to scare kids into obedience, the ghost had grown more and more sinister. Eventually it had gotten to a point where most was convinced that the valley was cursed. By then only hunters ventured in and out of the valley, and the village had been forced to grow on the outside of the mountains.


    Judging by the way he had told the story, Rune cared more for the dramatics of it than its actual content. Now he was pouting somewhat as the girl had completely failed to gasp and oh at the proper moments.


    Before he had managed to finish his story, the girl had downed three more mugs of ale. She was at her favourite level of drunkenness, when you were undeniably really drunk, but still somehow managed to convince yourself that you were thinking straight. It had been a pretty shitty story. The way Rune had told it had helped somewhat, but if it wasn¡¯t for the ale and the lack of other entertainment she would definitely have walked off. ¡°So¡­¡± She said, and immediately felt a lot drunker when she tried to speak. ¡°¡­ how is that connected to me?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t see it?¡± Rune asked incredulously. ¡°A village on a mountain with only one entrance, where everyone knows everyone. And then a strange girl appears in the valley, approaching a hunter sitting by the fire. Also, the girl in question looks like she has been to hell and back. You can¡¯t tell me that you don¡¯t see the connection?¡±


    The girl tried to think about it, but it proved quite hard as her head was spinning from the ale. She supposed that if they were absolutely sure that the only way into the valley was through the village, then it made a bit more sense. But only a bit. They still hadn¡¯t accounted for the fact that she was obviously not translucent. Also, the ghost in question would be ancient, while she hadn¡¯t yet turned 21. It was enough to explain why they made the connection, but it sure as hell wasn¡¯t enough to convince her that she wasn¡¯t human. The story in itself sounded like bullshit to her. Most people probably had felt exposed or scared in the middle of night and had begun imagining things. Once the legend had appeared that must have begun to colour exactly what they imagined that they saw. She told Rune as much, but he only smilingly shook his head.


    ¡°Then how do you explain your abnormal strength?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡±, was her response. ¡°Look, you can tell me any crappy ghost story that you can think of, it still isn¡¯t going to convince me that I¡¯m not me, or that I¡¯m not human.¡±


    Rune looked like he would continue the argument, but apparently he decided to drop it. ¡°One more ale?¡± He asked. His voice had a slight slur to it, no doubt caused by the alcohol. The girl snorted, he had only finished two mugs so far. Mr Moustache had proven to be an unexpectedly light drinker. That reminded her, wasn¡¯t he still on his shift? When she asked him about it he grew pale and got a panicked look. The alehouse was still empty, but outside the remnants of the lunch rush had been stewing in the sun. The young man hurried outside with a slight sway to his step.


    Hanna remained seated. The day still wasn¡¯t late, but she was far too drunk to get anything constructive done. She kind of regretted drinking so early, but it had proven to be quite the capable distraction. Now that some time had passed, she didn¡¯t feel as angry as before. She was still pissed off by the villagers¡¯ hostility, but she guessed that she could somewhat understand them. They had pretty much been living in isolation since forever.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Her thoughts were cut short by Rune¡¯s voice from outside the building. ¡°She is inside, in the corner¡±, he said. A short moment later two of the elders walked inside. It was the happy couple, but Hanna couldn¡¯t remember their names. As they walked towards her it felt like when your parents were going to give you a talking to. They were both going for a look somewhere between neutral and stern, but just like last time the old man was sort of failing at it. It was heart-warming really, as if he just didn¡¯t have enough anger in him.


    ¡°Do you mind if we sit down?¡± asked the old woman.


    ¡°It¡¯s your village, isn¡¯t it?¡± Hanna answered, and chuckled at the symmetry of it all.


    The old woman looked confused by her chuckle. ¡°Sure¡­ more or less¡±, she said, apparently uncomfortable as she thought about it. ¡°Are you drunk?¡± She added with a disapproving tone.


    The girl shrugged. She wasn¡¯t super proud of how she had taken shelter in alcohol just because things were a bit shitty, but who cares? They were not her parents, and it was not like they knew how it felt to have your whole world snatched away from you. Also, it might just be the added pressure from their parent-like attitude, but she wasn¡¯t feeling nearly as drunk anymore.


    The old woman leaned in towards her and stared into her eyes. ¡°This is the last time you harm one of our villagers. Is that clear?¡± Her voice was filled with authority, but it also had an unmistakable finality to it.


    The girl heard herself swallow hard and her mouth was dry. She wanted to complain about it being unfair, what with the stabbing and all. But it wasn¡¯t as if she had the wound to prove what happened anyway. Besides, the tone of the old woman¡¯s voice told her that she wasn¡¯t going to change her mind, proof or not. ¡°Yes¡±, she answered.


    Once she had gotten her answer, the old woman¡¯s aura became far more positive. It was hard to tell what was an act and what was natural, but she certainly used her voice and body language to dramatic effect. ¡°Birgitta has informed me of her decision to personally train you. I have agreed to it, on the condition that you spend your afternoons with Gunnar.¡± The old woman pointed her thumb towards her husband.


    The girl looked at him and he smiled at her in return. It wasn¡¯t as if she had much of a choice in the matter, but the girl didn¡¯t have a habit of agreeing to things without checking the fine print. ¡°What for?¡± She asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sitting right here you know¡±, the old man said to his wife. She smiled apologetically to him but didn¡¯t bother saying anything. The man let it go and turned towards the girl. ¡°We will be talking mostly. And maybe some walking. We¡¯ll see how it goes.¡± He finished with a happy smile but there was a hunger in his eyes.


    The girl thought back to their earlier conversation about rifles and got a bad premonition. ¡°Okay¡±, she said doubtfully. ¡°When do we start?¡±


    ¡°This afternoon still has some hours in it¡±, said the man, sounding like a kid at Christmas. ¡°Why don¡¯t we start now?¡±


    The old woman cut in. ¡°Gunnar, the girl can barely talk, I¡¯d be surprised if she even made it out of the building¡±. Her tone was somewhere between condescending and caring, which really pissed the girl off.


    ¡°Nonsense¡±, she said and stood up. To her surprise it actually wasn¡¯t too bad, she didn¡¯t even sway a little. She had been very drunk a short while ago, but now she just felt a bit tipsy. The girl reckoned that it might be related to the same phenomenon that made her strong. What was clear at least was that it had happened unnaturally fast. Maybe it was the last bits of alcohol in her system, but this discovery didn¡¯t bother her at all. Compared to being freakishly strong and waking up in a new world, an efficient liver seemed quite manageable. ¡°Are we going or not?¡± She said, making a point of only addressing the old man.


    As the girl practically dragged the man out of the building, the old woman lingered for a while. She had a smug smile and seemed pleased with herself. The older the fiddle the sweeter the tune, she thought. Then she set after the young barkeep to give him a talking to regarding his little gambling stunt.


    Once outside the building, the old man took the lead. The prospect of new technology had brought a hot passion to the man. This in turn gave him a measure of presence and drive that the girl hadn¡¯t seen before. In her opinion it really did him good. Without missing a beat, he brought them zigzagging between the houses until they came to a small house and what looked like an area for blacksmithing. The old man opened the door without nocking and they both stepped inside. Pretty much all of the small house was covered in shelves, and the only area that wasn¡¯t was occupied by a huge desk. There were candles everywhere, and plenty of burnt down stumps from used ones. Someone had obviously spent many late nights studying here.


    ¡°Ok, I¡¯m ready¡±, the old man said. He was seated by the desk and had brought forward some rough paper as well as some ink and a quill. To the girl it looked like a scene straight out of Harry Potter. She couldn¡¯t help but laugh a little.


    ¡°Ready for what?¡± She asked.


    ¡°For you to tell me of your technology¡±, he said with a hopeful voice, his quill already dipped in ink.


    The girl thought about this. Had he imagined that she should just list everything she know? Where would they even start? ¡°That is not going to work¡±, she said. It felt bad when she saw the disappointment in the old man¡¯s face. His enthusiasm alone made her want to help him. But she also figured that it couldn¡¯t hurt if she made herself a bit more important to the village. Thinking about the hustle by the alehouse and the incident with Muddy, she hadn¡¯t made a great first impression. The girl wanted to come up with something concrete to teach them, but she barely knew anything about them. So, let¡¯s start there, she thought. ¡°Why don¡¯t you give me a tour of the village, and we¡¯ll see what comes up?¡±


    She had moved around quite a lot in the village, but she hadn¡¯t really gotten a good grasp of it yet. It turned out that being accompanied by someone with a normal sense of direction helped a lot. The village was bigger than it seemed. Most of it consisted of small, single family houses. The exception was a few utility buildings and a communal house for those who were too old to live at home but had yet to find a partner. As they talked about the communal house, the old man remembered that that was where the girl was supposed to live for now. It didn¡¯t look like much of a change from the alehouse, so she didn¡¯t really care. But she did her best to remember the location.


    The economy of the village was a bit odd compared to what she was used to. The village owned all the buildings and had a say in all matters, but everyone owned the result of their work. If someone wanted to retire they decided who would replace them, but the village could step in at any point and overrule this. Taxation was on a different level depending on occupation but was generally only a few percent of a person¡¯s income. It all was regulated by the fact that the village elders needed to keep everyone more or less happy. Since the village was small enough for single individuals to be heard, an unfair ruling could kick up a veritable shit-storm. The old man had a tired look as he said this.


    Most parts of the village were located on the slopes of the mountain that surrounded the valley. It was a rather gentle slope, but it was still steep enough that the village had been built in a zigzag pattern. The creek that begun in the valley ran straight through it all. The village ended quite high up on the mountain, and only a thin road winded its way along the creek until it reached flat ground. It was hard to tell from where they stood, but the old man said that most of what the village ate was grown on the ground by the base of the mountain.


    As inspiration struck her, the girl described what she knew about things that they could improve. An unexpected hurdle in this was that a lot of modern inventions was impossible to recreate here, since they needed electricity and specialised tools. This meant that what she ended up telling them was more or less ancient compared to what was normal before the gap. In most cases she could only describe the general idea of something, since she knew next to nothing about the specific details.


    Not that the old man seemed to mind. His eyes were practically sparkling, and he seemed to soak up every word she said. When she had told him about modern housing he had immediately asked dozens of questions, until it became clear that what they needed before that was straight wooden planks. This in turn required a sawmill, which needed a waterwheel to operate. This proved to be a similar pattern as they walked around. Every final concept depended on a number of stuff that needed to be build first. It gave the girl a strange feeling when she realized that this afternoon¡¯s conversation had probably hastened the village¡¯s technological development by a couple of hundred years.


    By the end of their walk it had begun to darken. The old man was so filled with enthusiasm that he seemed on the verge to run off and start working straight away. After discussing most of her ideas they had agreed to focus on just a few of them first. One of them was the sawmill, which would be using the creek to power it. When the old man had questioned what would happen to the village¡¯s fresh water if they did, they had decided to also dig a well that would service the entire village. The last thing they had decided on was to try and build something a bit more stable than the current road. They would be needing stone for the well anyway, so they might as well try and strike while the iron was hot.


    When they were done, the girl had headed straight for the alehouse. She could probably have moved to the communal house straight away if she wanted to, but she felt spent and also quite ready for some dinner. Her hunger grew as she walked, and she felt quite proud when she got there without barely getting lost at all. Once she stepped inside she found that it was really rowdy. Someone was playing some weird-sounding instrument, and there were people everywhere. As she made her way over to the bar she recognised a few of the people from lunch. They all glared darkly at her but none of them looked like they were actually going to do anything. She ignored them and pushed through the crowd that was drinking around the bar. To her disappointment she found that Rune wasn¡¯t working at the moment. His replacement was an older man with a sizeable gut. He was completely bald, but he sported a moustache that bore a striking resemblance to the one Rune had. It put a smile on the girl as she mused over the possible reasons.


    The stern voice of the old man put an end to her musings. ¡°Are you going to stand there smiling or are you going to order?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if Rune told you but I have already paid for food and drinks, as well as a room¡±, she said. She was really hungry and since she also was completely broke she was really hoping their deal still held.


    The barkeep looked her over for a second. ¡°So, you are Hanna then?¡±, he said. ¡°You don¡¯t look that dangerous to me¡±, he added after a moment of consideration. The girl got pissed off when she heard this, since it meant that the rumours were still running wild. Some of her anger must have shown on her face, because the barkeep took offence. ¡°Hey kid, cool it down or I¡¯ll knock it out of you!¡± He said, and something in his voice made it seem like more of a promise than a threat.


    You probably didn¡¯t remain the barkeep of a Viking village unless you knew how to fight, the girl thought. She forced herself to smile to show how fucking calm and peaceful she was.


    ¡°That¡¯s better¡±, he said. ¡°The boy told me of your deal. I guess you will be wanting some dinner?¡±


    The girl began nodding before he had finished his question. That made the man smile for the first time, which did wonders for his appearance. He suddenly looked more like a kind father and less like a surly old hog. The smile was short-lived, it was almost as if he made a conscious effort to hide it. ¡°Take a seat and I¡¯ll bring some over to you¡±, he said.


    The girl was quick to comply.

 10 – Combat Rock, track No. 3

    It was morning and the girl sat on her bed. By all rights she should have been really hungover by know, but it seemed like that wouldn¡¯t be an issue anymore. The list of changes to her body was steadily growing. It had gotten to a point where she would almost be surprised if she didn¡¯t find something new every now and then. The room she had been given was cold and barely furbished. It also had the questionable perk of being close to a chicken run, so at least waking up hadn¡¯t been a problem.


    She was famished, but she was also broke. The deal she had with Rune didn¡¯t include breakfast, so she would have to find her next meal somewhere else. She tried rubbing the tiredness away from her eyes. Judging time would have been a lot easier if there were clocks around, but she was rather certain that she didn¡¯t get to bed until it was very late. The ale she had drunk with her dinner had put her in the mood for more. After a while of solitary drinking Rune had showed up and joined her. His tolerance for alcohol being what it was, it didn¡¯t take long until he was absolutely smashed. It seemed out of character for him, but he appeared somewhat remorseful for his previous hustle. Not that he publicly apologized or anything, but he had stood on a chair and announced that he would give a coin to anyone who could beat him in arm-wrestling. Since he wasn¡¯t very beefy, the line of challengers quickly grew long.


    By the end of it he had lost quite the sum, but since many of the winners were among the losers of yesterday, it had sort of served him right. Rune had a glum face, but his many losses sure put a smile on the rest in the room. Afterwards he had sulkily increased his pace with the ale until he had fallen asleep in a corner. A bit later the barkeep had come over and asked her to carry him to an unoccupied room. The old her would have been hard pressed to carry an unconscious man, but to the new and nifty her it was as easy as flinging him over her shoulder. She didn¡¯t even break a sweat. It felt so good that it was almost worth all the extra shit that came with it.


    Hanna rubbed her eyes before she set about gathering all her stuff. She probably wouldn¡¯t sleep here tonight so she had to make sure that she took everything with her. Not that it was that much: she had long since dumped the bad smelling poncho, the rusty shovel and her makeshift spear. The only things she owned now was the clothes that she wore and the stuff that she had gotten from Bj?rn. In the small amount of time that she had owned them, the stuff that she had thrown away had acquired a surprising amount of sentimental value. It probably was what usually happened when something more or less saved your life. Still, it wasn¡¯t as if she could walk around with a rotting carcass for clothing. She was shunned enough as it was.


    With the leather backpack flung over her shoulder she made her way down the narrow stairs. Rune was nowhere to be seen, which really wasn¡¯t surprising. By now he was probably either passed out or heaving his guts out, like a normal human would. It almost made her jealous. She would no longer be a part of the broken heroes that spent their mornings wallowing in self-pity and indulgence. Instead she would get the shit kicked out of her by the toughest bastard this side of death.


    It was a wet and grey kind of day. The uniform colourlessness of the sky did nothing to alleviate the miserable look of what was beneath it. Everything was slightly moist, and the mud which was everywhere in the village had almost turned liquid. At first, she tried tiptoeing her way through it, but she soon realized the futility of it and just accepted her fate. Soaked shoes did not improve a shitty day, but it was what she was stuck with.


    Birgitta hadn¡¯t specified where they would meet, and Hanna hadn¡¯t thought about asking. The area where they had trained earlier seemed like an obvious choice though, so she had made her way there, one sloshing step at a time. She didn¡¯t look forward to meeting the other kids again. It was all too easy to imagine their judgemental stares.


    As she got closer to the training grounds she saw that they were all gathered up around Birgitta, just like they were yesterday. Hanna happily noted that no one had seen her yet. If it could only remain that way, then I could very well wait until¡­ she thought. But her plan was snuffed by Birgitta waving her towards her with huge arm movements. Like a group of whatever animals Timon was, all of the kids snapped their heads towards her. She met their stares with a bad feeling in her stomach. One or two had a curious look, but most of them looked annoyed to see her. A few of them seemed outright hostile. After some searching she noticed Olof in the back. He had his eyes glued to the ground. Muddy was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Listen up kids!¡± Birgitta shouted. ¡°Because of what happened yesterday, Hanna is no longer going to practice with us¡±. Someone laughed when they heard her. Birgitta said nothing about it. ¡°Instead, I will be training her personally. This means that from now on Bj?rn will be in charge of you guys¡±, she continued.


    This clearly annoyed most of the teenagers. A general murmuring was quickly growing among them. Muddy¡¯s female sidekick seemed especially annoyed, Hanna even caught her spitting on the ground in disgust. Wow.


    Birgitta didn¡¯t seem to appreciate their lack of focus. ¡°Oi asshats!¡± She bellowed. There was definite anger in her voice. ¡°Shut. The. Fuck. Up¡±, she said, somehow managing to make complete sentences of single words. Hanna rolled her eyes internally, but carefully made sure not to let it show. There is an important line between sassy and suicidal, and she was definitely not going to cross it.


    Birgitta¡¯s outburst had its intended effect on the teenagers though. They were all dead silent, and most of them looked a little pale. A few of them visibly flinched when she spoke again. ¡°I don¡¯t know where you guys picked up the idea, that this is some cosy get-together where we all hang out and gossip. In case I¡¯m not being very clear¡­ It fucking isn¡¯t¡±. She said, and her voice was low and smooth as honey. The lower volume only came off as more threatening.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The teenagers all leaned in closer, afraid to miss some part of it. Hanna on the other hand stopped listening. It just sounded far too much like the hundreds of sergeants in war movies she had seen. Where¡¯s the originality? She thought. Also, she was pretty sure nothing that was said would be regarding her.


    In the end, all off the teenagers set about jogging around the training grounds. Hanna didn¡¯t hear how many laps they would be running, but judging from their slow pace and dead faces, they were probably going to spend most of their day in the mud. It put a smile on her face, more from their suffering than from her not having to join them. Her heart froze for a second when she saw that Birgitta had noticed her smile, but the feeling passed when she caught the wide grin on Birgitta¡¯s face. It was an odd moment that they shared, seeing the ugly touch of sadism in a person, at the same time as you admitted to it yourself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell them this, but I¡¯m thankful that they gave me cause for this¡±, Birgitta said. ¡°Otherwise I would have to admit that I forgot to tell Bj?rn to come over¡±, she continued with a smile on her face. It almost made Hanna burst out in laughter. She didn¡¯t though. The grin on Birgitta¡¯s face earlier had made her a bit less eager to push her luck. Also, Birgitta¡¯s current level of comradeship felt very out of character. It was almost to the point of being disturbing, like a cat cleaning the pelt of a mouse.


    Hanna settled for what she figured was the safest option and only smiled in response.


    Birgitta gave her a disappointed look but dropped the subject. ¡°We won¡¯t be practicing here. There are far too many rumours going around, it seems kind of stupid to fan the flames¡±, she said, as she walked them over towards the house with the equipment. Once inside she deftly picked out a shield, a short sword and a spear. She handed them to Hanna as she picked them up. By the time they got to the spear, Hanna was out of hands, but she still reached for the spear like an idiot, inevitable dropping all the stuff on the ground. The sword landed point first, wedging itself into the ground despite its dulled edge. What was worse was the miniscule amount of space between the sword and the general area of Birgitta¡¯s pinky toe.


    Hanna turned her head from the ground towards Birgitta¡¯s face with a dreadful feeling. To her relief she was met with a stoic face, if anything Birgitta looked slightly disappointed. Hanna quickly grabbed her backpack and fastened the shield on the outside of the bag before she picked up the spear and the sword. She felt her cheeks blush slightly as she stood up.


    ¡°Are you done?¡± Birgitta asked, but she didn¡¯t seem to care for an answer. She led them out towards the edge of the village, to the side that faced the mountain. As they left the village behind them and the slope got steeper, Hanna saw the odds of her eating breakfast steadily grow worse. Her stomach seemed to second her assessment, as it got increasingly more vocal.


    Eventually Birgitta must have gotten tired of listening to her bowels singing, because she stopped without warning and begun rummaging around in her pockets. ¡°I take it you didn¡¯t eat any breakfast¡±, she said as she tossed her a cured sausage. Hanna managed to catch it without letting it fall into the mud, but since both her hands was full it meant she had to drop her sword in the mud to do so. It landed in the brown slush with a wet sound, and Hanna realized with a groan that the leather handle would undoubtedly be a pain to clean afterwards.


    Leaving the sword in the mud, she studied the sausage. It looked edible enough, but she didn¡¯t want to think too much about how long it had been laying around in Birgitta¡¯s pocket. It was hard to the touch and had that sweet smell of old meat. All in all, it seemed a pretty ordinary sausage, if maybe a bit on the larger side. She took a bite and was pleasantly surprised. It had a smoky and gamey flavour; the meat was probably smoked deer or something similar. As far as rations went, it was absolutely superb. It was also surprisingly filling, she almost had to force the last bits down.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Birgitta asked. She looked somewhat impressed.


    ¡°Sure¡±, Hanna said with a pained face. She had to force down some massive gas to get her answer out. Perhaps she had eaten a bit too fast. At least Birgitta didn¡¯t seem bothered by her problems, she set off at once when she got her answer. Her pace did not harmonize with Hanna¡¯s stomach.


    As the slope got steeper Hanna begun to wonder just how far up the mountain they were going. She had realized after a while that they were following a path of sorts, but earlier it had barely been visible due to all the mud. That problem had at least decreased as they got higher up the mountain. She turned around to take a look at the village and was surprised by how far down it was. She had noticed the incline for sure, but she would never have guessed just how much height they had traversed. Slopes were tricky like that.


    She turned back towards their path. It continued on like it had done for the hour or so that they had walked, but a bit higher up she thought she could see something. As they got closer it turned out to be a fairly large cave, with a stone wall covering most of the opening. It wasn¡¯t a terrible high wall, but it was high enough that climbing over it would be impossible without some sort of equipment. In the middle of the wall sat an ancient wooden door, which in turn was protected by a netting of iron bars. It looked like it would be pretty hard to break in to. Or out of, the girl thought with a shudder.


    A cold feeling grew in her stomach. What if they weren¡¯t here for practice? What if they had brought her here to lock her up? The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. It didn¡¯t seem practical to walk an hour or so uphill single way just for some morning practice. And this place had all the makings of a prison. Fuck! She thought. How could she be so na?ve?


    Hanna didn¡¯t spot anyone on the wall, but apparently it was manned. She considered making a run for it but decided against it. She wasn¡¯t arrogant enough to think she could put up any sort of resistance against Birgitta. Plus the fact that she would undoubtedly fall if she were to run down that steep slope. The mud might cushion things a bit, but it was still a really long tumble.


    As they walked up to the door, a loud sound came from inside the wall. Hanna imagined it was the sound of something heavy dropping to the ground. A few seconds later the door slowly swung open, creaking dramatically as it did so. Birgitta led them through the door without missing a beat. Once they were inside the cave, the door reversed its previous journey. This time the creaking sounded a lot more ominous. The finality of the situation was accentuated by the heavy thud as the door was locked into place. Hanna couldn¡¯t help but groan at the sound of it.

 11 – Concrete evidence

    The inside of the cave was a far cry from the empty and open space she had expected. Plenty of small but orderly houses lined the walls of the cave, leaving a narrow corridor in the middle. They had perfectly flat roofs, and Hanna thought they seemed oddly strange for a couple of seconds before it hit her. They were made of concrete. The realization made her pulse quicken. Not because she had some weird fetish for building materials, but because it was the first thing she had seen since waking up in the valley that didn¡¯t look like a cosplayers wet dream. Either these Vikings were forced to use concrete pretty fucking sparingly, or this was built by someone else. Hanna was betting on the later.


    By the far end of the corridor was a concrete wall, with holes large enough to poke rifles through, reminding her of some world war two fortifications. Birgitta seemed used to the view, as she led them further in without missing a beat. The corridor looped around the wall to the right, until they passed under what was undoubtedly the rusted frame of a long gone, massive door. The corridor winded it¡¯s way onward, until the smell of fire and the muffled sounds of cutlery against porcelain told Hanna that they were drawing close to their destination. Eventually they passed what was apparently the final corner and stepped out into what appeared to be a cosy little mess hall.


    An open fire was burning in a proper fireplace, and a large table were close enough to it that it could warm anyone dining there. The walls of the room had several wooden doors, and unlike the rest of the cave so far, everything looked fresh and cared for. Sitting at the table was a huge man. From the looks of it, he had carefully positioned himself to make the most of the heat from the fire. He studied them curiously, spoon in hand, leaning on his elbows. His large frame made the cutlery seem like a play-set. He looked like he must have a pretty hard time squeezing through some of the narrower parts that they had passed on the way over. Or he was much smaller when he first got here, Hanna mused.


    Birgitta walked over to him and leaned on the table. They talked for a while and the man looked back and forth between Hanna and Birgitta. Hanna felt a growing sense of dread as the conversation went on. It didn¡¯t help that she couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying. Eventually the man resolutely stood on his feet and made his way over to her, with Birgitta on his heels. Hanna couldn¡¯t help but swallow as he stood before her, he was much more that a head taller than her, and she had to crane her neck just to see his eyes. She tried consoling herself. If they really wanted to hurt her, it seemed unnecessarily roundabout to bring her all the way here. They could just as well have kept her in the village.


    The man studied her, not saying a word. Hanna considered braking the ice but decided against it. The man had an angry look in his eyes. A gruff unintelligible sound left his lips before he abruptly made his way past her, ripping one of the doors open before promptly slamming it shut. Apparently, he hadn¡¯t liked whatever Birgitta had told him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind that surly old oaf¡±, said Birgitta. ¡°He¡¯s slow to trust, but he¡¯ll come around eventually¡±. She paused, pondering something. ¡°Maybe¡±.


    Birgitta rearranged the chair by the fire and made herself comfortable, feet crossed on the table. She magically produced a dagger and begun cleaning her nails with it as she studied Hanna. ¡°So, miss trouble maker. What secrets are you hiding?¡± She said with a playful look, occasionally checking her progress with the dagger.


    Hanna¡¯s throat was dry, and she swallowed uncomfortably. It felt like she was in some mix between an exam and an interrogation. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Birgitta twirled the dagger like a student would twirls his pen, searching for the right words. ¡°I might not be as bad as the oaf, but I wasn¡¯t born yesterday girl. And those spindly noodles that you use for arms sure as hell shouldn¡¯t be packing the kind of punch that you showed earlier. Heck, I¡¯m surprised they don¡¯t fall off on their own.¡±


    Hanna scratched her arm, self-conscious and unsure how to answer her. Seeing as she had been blurting out details left and right since she got to the village, it seemed silly to suddenly stop now. ¡°Uh yeah, not sure what to say really. Ever since I woke up in the valley, I¡¯ve noticed some changes¡±.


    ¡°Such as?¡± Birgitta asked, waving her dagger in a circular motion, urging her to continue.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m stronger obviously but also¡­¡± Hanna pondered for a bit. She hadn¡¯t really thought about it before, at least not in a systematic way. More in a huh-that¡¯s-odd kind of way. But if she were to catalogue it, she definitely recovered from her liquor faster. And maybe she was wrong, but she had felt sure that she was injured by both the pig-otter and Muddy¡¯s stabby version of a hello. It was sort of believable if the stress of the moment made her imagine her wound to be worse than it was, but it was twice now that she had felt pain unlike anything before the valley yet had no wound to show for it. She¡¯d be a fool if she didn¡¯t suspect some kind of advanced healing, at least given the radical and equally inexplicable change in her strength. She told Birgitta as much. The older woman looked unimpressed by her improved liver, but her eyes took on a dangerous sheen when she heard about the healing, and the smile that played in the corner of her mouth told Hanna that she was going to regret her honesty.


    Not that she had to wait very long. She had barely stopped talking before she heard the sound of a dagger embedding itself in the wood behind her. A second later and her senses caught up with her surprise. Her right biceps was burning, and as she reflexively covered it with her hand she noticed that she was bleeding. ¡°What the fuck?¡± She screamed at the woman, who was already halfway over to the knife she had thrown.


    Birgitta seemed far from empathetic. ¡°Oh, stop your whining¡±, she said. ¡°Either you were right, and then it¡¯s no harm done.¡± She paused and pried the knife out from the wood. ¡°Or you were wrong, and then it serves you right for being a liar¡±


    Hanna was preparing a retort to that but was interrupted as Birgitta pulled her hand from the wound.


    ¡°Well, well, well¡±, said the grizzled old woman, sounding genuinely surprised. ¡°Would you look at that?¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Hanna pulled the woman¡¯s hand away so that she could see properly, her heart racing as she imagined the outcome. She really shouldn¡¯t be so surprized since she had sort of toyed with the possibility for a while now, but her head still felt dizzy when she gazed upon her arm. The wound was completely healed, the only evidence of it ever happening was the blood that surrounded it.


    Fuck me, she thought. I¡¯m Wolverine.


    What followed after that could be called some intense couple of days, but that would be an understatement bordering on dishonesty. It wasn¡¯t straight out torture, but it was far worse than anything Hanna had experienced in the army or otherwise.


    Not that she was regretting the experience, at least not in hindsight. It sure sucked at the time, but it turned out she was placing some unnecessary mental limitations on herself. Who would have guessed that all it took to overcome them was mental exhaustion and some tried-and-true fear of dying?


    It was funny how ¡°I probably won¡¯t die from some injury¡± could differ so vastly from ¡°She probably won¡¯t die from some injury¡±, depending on inclination and perspective. Hanna shuddered at the memory. Birgitta had put all Hollywood-imagined drill sergeants to shame, but it had eventually been worth it. Now they had a pretty good grasp on her capabilities, and she knew for a fact that there was no way she would have gone as far on her own.


    Her stamina was basically the way she remembered it: normal for a fit girl barely in her twenties. Nothing to sneeze at, but then again nothing to write home about either.


    It was hard to judge her strength, mainly due to a problem that she hadn¡¯t expected. If she was pushing something upwards, or pulling against something, she was sure she could perform on the level of some strong-man contestant. But she was just too damned light! Whenever she wasn¡¯t brazing against something, she was directly limited by the fifty or so kilos that she judged her current scrawny build weighed. Try as she might, if the object she was trying to move weighed more than her, she was the one who ended up moving. It¡¯s obvious when you think about it, simple physics really, but it was an annoying limiter that she hadn¡¯t expected. She had never been very buff, but before the valley she had been carrying a fair bit more meat, and she had weighed in around seventy. She was working hard to get back to her former shape, but it was proving difficult due to the last part of their¡­ evaluation.


    Ever since the initial cut that exposed her healing, Hanna was sure Birgitta would eventually want to explore the limits to that. Maybe because she was sensing her fears, or because she was a kinder person than she seemed, but Birgitta had made sure to take it slow with the less savoury parts of their session. An unexpected bruise here, a small cut there, it was as if the examination naturally resulted in a few smaller blemishes. But by the second day it had escalated in such a linear fashion that Hanna had caught on to Birgitta¡¯s schemes, subtle as they were. When she corned her and outright asked if she was hurting her on purpose, it immediately came back to bite her.


    ¡°No¡±, she had simply said, before she slashed her deeply in the arm and threw a sheeted dagger on the ground in front of her. ¡°We are obviously knife-fighting¡±. Before Hanna had time to complain further, she had been too preoccupied to do anything other than trying to defend herself. By the tenth time or so that she had been stabbed, she barely registered the pain, to high on adrenaline to notice. Birgitta had gotten more and more bold with the wounds she had been inflicting, until Hanna had finally snapped, screaming for her to stop. Birgitta seemed to have been touched by the desperation in her voice, because she immediately ceased with her attempt at amputating the tip of the girl¡¯s little-finger.


    Thinking back at it, Hanna was struck by how horrible it all sounded, as if she had been abused. It really hadn¡¯t felt that bad at the time. Something in the way that Birgitta had moved, and in the way that she had maintained eye-contact, had given her a strong, comforting feeling that they could stop whenever. Just not without Hanna explicitly begging for it. Or not, maybe she had just been too jumped up on adrenaline to think straight, and Birgitta was truly a sadistic asshole, eager to inflict pain. Either way, Hanna was sure that she was stuck with the woman in the foreseeable future, so she was sticking with the first explanation for her own sanity¡¯s sake. But as soon as she got the hang of this mediaeval-styled fighting, or got her hands on a proper rifle, she was going to dish out some serious amounts of pay-back.


    Anyways, it was clear that her healing came with a price: she burned through calories like crazy. The bigger the wound, the more she had to eat. It made sense really, it was not like she healed magically, her body had to use something as material to patch up her wounds. They hadn¡¯t tested her healing too extensively, so she wasn¡¯t sure what her limit was, but when it came to cuts she was pretty much like jelly. Hanna felt like one of those people in light-novels, who died and reincarnated as slimes or whatever. Not that she complained, given the medieval setting and her track record so far, it seemed like an ability that would come in handy more than once.


    She was currently sitting in a room she had gotten as her own. It was the third day since she had gotten to the bunker, and she was bored out of her mind. She still wasn¡¯t sure if this was just some elaborate charade meant to keep her away from the village, or if they were actually here for training. It could well be a bit of both, but the fact that her door was locked felt like a bad omen.


    She had happily thrown herself on the bed when it was offered by Birgitta, physically and mentally exhausted from their crazy training. Sleep had hit her probably before she even touched the bed, and it wasn¡¯t until she woke up that she found out that her door was locked. She had screamed and banged at the door at first, but that had gotten old pretty fast. Not quite feeling in the mood for the whole prisoner-workout that seemed like her second option, she was pretty much just sitting there, trying not to think about how slowly time was passing.


    A period of sleep and an eternity later, Hanna was awoken by the sound of the door unlocking. Squinting her eyes against the sudden influx of light, she could just about make out the silhouette of Birgitta.


    ¡°Sorry about locking you up. I had people to talk to and decisions to make, and I couldn¡¯t really have you leaving until I had made them¡±, she said as she offered Hanna a hand.


    As Hanna groggily made her way out into the room with the fireplace, she was surprised to find it filled with a motley crew. Some stared at her impassively, a few gave her nods as greetings. They were all new faces, except for the big surly guy from earlier. He barely looked at her, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, like a teenager that absolutely had to voice his displeasure at every turn. Hanna gave him the friendlies smile she could muster, before turning towards her captor/mentor.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with the crowd?¡± She asked


    Birgitta didn¡¯t seem to care about her question. ¡°We weren¡¯t quite sure of what to make off you until now, that¡¯s why we pulled you away from the village¡±, she said.


    No shit, thought Hanna. ¡°But know you¡¯re sure I¡¯m to be trusted, just two days of stabbing later?¡± She asked.


    Birgitta scoffed at that. ¡°No girl, I said nothing about trust. Now we know that you are useful. Trust will come later.¡± She made a pause as she gauged Hanna¡¯s reaction. When no retort came she continued, making a sweeping gesture towards the crowd. ¡°Until then, welcome to the Regulars¡±.

 12 - We need a montage

    Hanna wasn¡¯t sure what she had expected. Maybe a round of handshakes or introductions, nothing fancy. What she got instead was a few seconds of stern and suspicious stares from most of the group, accompanied by a raging silence.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what stories you have heard, but we are the ones who are keeping this village alive, the backs that those weaklings cower behind when visited by the harsh, outside world¡±, Birgitta said with a voice both proud and full of contempt. Hanna didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her that she hadn¡¯t heard shit about their little group. Given the way some of the guys in the room were squirming, not everyone shared Birgitta¡¯s views on the matter.


    ¡°We don¡¯t normally group up like this", Birgitta continued. ¡°But they had just returned from a run, and I figured they needed to meet the group¡¯s newest member.¡± She then turned around, addressing the group. ¡°With that done, there is no need for you whiny fuckers to stick around anymore. Get back to your happy families and dull lives, I¡¯ve grown tired of you starring daggers at me¡±.


    The motley bunch took the bitterness in Birgitta¡¯s voice in stride, walking off with only some murmuring and slight headshakes. Once they had left, the room seemed empty and void of life, in a way that it hadn¡¯t felt earlier.


    ¡°I guess you have some questions?¡±


    Hanna had plenty. ¡°Are we done with the locks and bars?¡±


    Birgitta narrowed her eyes at her. ¡°Sure¡±, she said. ¡°But it is earlier than I had planned. Try any shit and you¡¯re dead. Healing or not¡±


    Hanna smiled at that. She would need to be retarded to try. ¡°Deal¡±, she said.


    ¡°Now what? What happens now?¡±


    Birgitta looked baffled. ¡°Really, no questions about the group you¡¯ve just joined?¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good¡±, said Hanna and waived her off. ¡°I got the gist of it from your motivational speech¡±


    Birgitta ignored the girl¡¯s lack of interest. ¡°Except for generally protecting the village, we are the only ones that actually venture outside of it, leaving safety behind so that they can have theirs left.¡± She paused. The tone of the voice and the look in her eyes saying a lot about how she felt about that division.


    ¡°The outside world is a fucked-up place¡­¡±, she continued before trailing off. It seemed to Hanna as if she was speaking from experience. Birgitta was caught in contemplation and said nothing more, so Hanna steered the conversation towards a lighter subject.


    ¡°Now what, are we going to continue cutting me up?¡± She asked, trying to put some cheerfulness into her voice.


    Birgitta visibly pulled herself out of her dark memories and gave Hanna a crooked, approving smile. ¡°Not for a while¡±, she said. ¡°It¡¯s high time we punch some actual skill into that scrawny frame. When I¡¯m done with you, our enemies are not going to know what hit them!¡± She gave Hanna a hearty slap on the shoulder, almost pushing her over.


    After that followed a couple of hectic weeks. They were physically exhausting, but at the same time very rewarding. Each day had a set routine: early breakfast followed by sparring until lunch, then more sparring until dinner. The day was always finished with a few brutal hours of strength training or cardio. Figuring out the specifics of the strength training had proved tricky, as her odd strength-to-weight ratio meant that basically all exercises based on body weight were pretty much worthless. The solution had been to bring in heavy rocks and logs from outside, and by the end of it, Hanna was certain that she had handled the logs in every position imaginable.


    She had always loathed cardio but found it a bit more agreeable now, since the time spent running was pretty much her only time spent outside of the bunker. But then again, she spent way too many hours running up that bloody mountain, so it wasn¡¯t exactly a rose-tinted dream either. Birgitta had been hesitant to let her out of the bunker at first, but since they couldn¡¯t really get the job done inside the bunker, the compromise had been Birgitta hounding her heels and Hanna promising to be on her best behaviour. Of course, Birgitta had made sure to communicate that anything else would result in unspeakable horrors.


    An unexpected upside of her weird healing was that she recovered from workouts incredible fast. If she had the energy to spare and food on the table, there was virtually nothing stopping her from constantly pressing herself harder. Hanna had never been one to shy away from pain and hard work, and she threw herself into the routine with great gusto, amazed at the quick gains she was getting. She was putting on weight like crazy, despite the drain that her healing put on her. Surprisingly enough, it turned out that the trick to gaining weight was downing a ton of food. It had turned eating into a dull chore, but the results spoke for themselves.


    She and Birgitta never talked much, and when they did, it was mostly about what Hanna had done wrong, or that she needed to work harder. Despite that, she found herself growing fonder of the old woman as time went on. Not to the point that she genuinely appreciated the company, but enough that she wasn¡¯t constantly fantasizing about kicking her in the face. Underneath her though and grumpy exterior there were some more toughness. But underneath that, Hanna thought she could just about make out an actual person, who was trying to make a difference in her own, fucked-up way. She might act like she doesn¡¯t care about anyone, but the energy and dedication she put into teaching her told a different story.


    When Hanna had teasingly said as much during one of their spars, she had gotten an unforgiving kick in the chest that threw her flat on the rock-hard ground and knocked the wind out of her.


    ¡°I¡¯d be fucking ashamed if one of the Regulars wasn¡¯t up to snuff¡±, had been her excuse as she left the scene.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Hanna hypnotized that she had only left because she couldn¡¯t keep her poker face in place. She had smiled at the imagined picture of Birgitta hurrying away with cheeks rosy from embarrassment.


    During all their spars, the main focus was always on moving properly. Birgitta had been dead set on teaching her a stable foundation, getting her to adopt footwork and movement patterns that would be applicable in various styles of combat, and which allowed her to constantly weave around attacks, positioning her so that she would always have an opportunity to strike at her opponent. It was an aggressive style, but it was a match made in heaven for Hanna, since she didn¡¯t really have to worry about being cut.


    By the end of the second week, they had begun working sword and shield training into the routine, and it amazed Hanna how easily the new movements fitted into their deadly dance, like putting a puzzle piece into place when all of the surrounding pieces was already there. Not that she was very good with the sword, it was just inspiring how right it all suddenly felt. A couple of weeks was in no way enough to make someone adept at fighting with blades in close quarters, but they had kept a breakneck speed, and despite her penchant for not worrying about hurting her student, Birgitta had proved a formidable teacher.


    Hanna had no clue about how she would fare in an actual fight against an armed and experienced opponent, but she felt like she would have kicked some serious ass against any ordinary person from before the valley.


    The style that Birgitta was teaching her almost never struck with the sword against another sword, making all the movie-fights she had seen a pointless reference. Instead they would move away from the blade, angle the blow away with the shield, or disrupt the blow completely by striking the opponent when he was mid-attack. ¡°Never stop attacking¡±, had been the constant slogan. The point wasn¡¯t that she would be wailing like a windmill, but rather that everything she did should in some way be an attack on the opponent, even if she was plain dodging. It required an aggressive mindset that had been hard to apply in the beginning, but Birgitta had expertly solved that by mocking and striking her into a mad fury.


    The break in the routine came after about three weeks. Hanna had groggily gotten up from bed and half asleep begun stuffing her face with mountains of porridge, when she had eventually noticed a new yet familiar face walking into the room. It was the huge man that she had met when she first got here. He looked more resolved than gruff this time, and he was intensely studying her as he made his way over to her. Either he was a very challenged thinker, or he had one of those faces that clearly showed what he was thinking. It was almost cute, especially combined with the immature sulkiness that he had displayed the last time they met.


    Hanna flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but relaxed when she saw that it was Birgitta¡¯s. The woman loved creeping up on her, and she sadly had the skills to do so without trouble. Maybe that had been the reason for the man¡¯s intense scrutiny, maybe he was just looking at Birgitta standing behind her, getting ready to pounce on her like a kitten?


    ¡°The fun is over¡±, Birgitta said. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure what fun she was talking about.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call you passable with a blade, but given your weird body, I think you¡¯ve learned enough not to die immediately¡±.


    Hanna caught the compliment that was hidden in there and patted the hand on her shoulder in appreciation. It made Birgitta pull back her hand as if it was burnt, just like Hanna new she would. She smiled in her victory.


    ¡°Anders will be taking over for now¡±, Birgitta said as she sat down on a chair by the table. ¡°He will teach you how to poke people with a stick from the safety of a few meters¡±.


    ¡°I will teach you the art of the spear¡±, the large man corrected her with a sneer on his face.


    ¡°Whatever¡±, said Birgitta, before she turned towards Hanna. ¡°You are in luck, girl. When it comes to stick-waving people to death, this walking pile of meat really is something else¡±.


    Anders seemed to grow tired of her insults and glared at her. ¡°Was that all, boss?¡± He asked, making it obvious that his last word meant something else.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve had enough teasing you. Run along now, I¡¯ve got better things to do¡±, she said before lazily putting her feet on the table and her hands behind her head.


    The large man huffed and shuffled his way out of the room, in his irritation forgetting to say anything to Hanna. She just stood there watching him go until Birgitta spoke up.


    ¡°You to girl! I¡¯ve spent about as much time with you as I can stomach.¡±


    ¡°Am I finally trusted enough now to leave?¡± Hanna asked, not really believing it to be true.


    ¡°Nah, no-way. I just know that you can¡¯t do shit with that old oaf around. He is a pedantic stickler, but he is faster than he looks. Tip from the coach though, don¡¯t piss him off. He will be sulking for weeks if you do.¡±


    Before she ran off to catch up to the man, Hanna darted back into her room to grab her few belongings. It wasn¡¯t much, but it had grown since she got here. Just a couple of days ago, Birgitta had thrown her a sharpened version of the training sword she had used until then, with a proper scabbard and all. It was a really short sword, the blade was just over the length from her elbow to her fingertips, but she felt a combination of awesome and silly whenever she put it on her waist.


    Birgitta had been right, Anders really was faster than he looked. Sure, it had taken her a few minutes to get ready, but he was already standing by the main entrance to the bunker when she caught up with him. He casually lifted the heavy bar from the door with one hand, making Hanna think that he might actually be a match for her in pure strength. While Birgitta was agile, fast and deadly, it had been obvious from the get-go that Hanna outclassed her in strength like a grown-up compared to a kid. Not that it made any difference, Birgitta still beat her up whenever she felt like it.


    As Anders opened the door he spoke properly to her for the first time. ¡°Birgitta said that you are stronger than you seem¡±, he said.


    ¡°That¡¯s funny. She told me that you are faster than you ought to be¡±, Hanna paraphrased heavily, unable to resist the moment.


    Anders gave her the same glare that he had given Birgitta, no doubt seeing their likeness. ¡°Cease your yapping, child¡±, he said as he handed her an enormous spear that Hanna had mistaken for a part of the fortifications. Her hands barely reached three quarters of the way around the shaft, and the length must have been past three meters. At the end of it was a thin, triangular tip that seemed deadly sharp. It made the spear that she had carried to the cave when she first got here seem absolutely puny. Speaking of which: ¡°Hold up¡±, she said. ¡°I forgot my training spear, I¡¯ll be back in a minute¡±. She began putting Anders¡¯ spear down so that she could run back and get her own but stopped when she heard the big man¡¯s judgemental laugh.


    ¡°Silly girl. Forget that ridiculous thing! When it comes to what we will do, size matters.¡± He said as the laughter died down.


    ¡±¡­What is it that we will be doing?¡± She couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    The look he gave her told Hanna that he hadn¡¯t gotten the innuendo.


    ¡°I will teach you to stand fast in the face of adversity, to strike with immobility and bring to a stop the mightiest of charges¡±.


    Hanna just rolled her eyes at the ridiculous speech. ¡°What will we actually be doing?¡±, she asked as she put the man¡¯s spear on her shoulder, taking the lead out of the cave.


    ¡°We will be whittling and hunting¡±, he said, while smiling at her with playfulness in his eyes, advertising that trickery was afoot.


    Hanna sighed. They were definitely not going to be whittling and hunting.

 Chapter 13 - The plight of the soft

    Caught between a rock and a hard place. It¡¯s an old saying, referring to a situation where neither option is amicable. It has a peculiarity to it: it is not usually uttered by hard things. They are the perimeters, what needs to be navigated and weighted. And caught between them, there is always something soft. This rule of layering goes beyond mere sayings. One need only look at nature to see that it is so. Between the eggshells there is the yolk, and between the bones there is the ligaments. It could be argued that it¡¯s a matter of definition: that which lacks the strength to break free from its boundaries must necessarily be soft. But that alone doesn¡¯t account for this degree of symmetry. The soft things need the hard things in order to remain soft. And the hard things need the softness in between them, else their hardness eats away at them, until all that remains is brittle powder, spreading in the wind. Of course, all things are relative, and what is relatively weak must not necessarily be objectively so.


    Tor was objectively weak. And he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It sure sucked to be him, but that was the hand he had been dealt. Born from unknown no-bodies and deemed physically and mentally inferior. Hell, some even called him ugly. The one good thing he had, was that he was kind. Not that it was worth squat in this corner of the world. Here it was more akin to an insult, a weakness that was bordering on debilitating. It was something that needed to be stomped out before it got you killed. He knew this, he just didn¡¯t have the heart to do it.


    He lifted his downcast gaze and looked into the eyes of the man in front of him. They were hard eyes, filled with pride and anger. It was the look of a man who had measured himself against the ideals of society and been assured that he was in no way lacking. A man in every way fundamentally different from him, and all it took was an unfriendly, one-handed push from the man to make this difference glaringly obvious and confirmed. He hit the ground with a thud and was thankful that there were no rocks behind him.


    ¡°Know your place, kid¡±, the man snarled. His name was Josef, and he was the glowing star of this disgusting collection of killers and robbers. They called themselves the Wolves, but they were no wolves. At best they were rats, scurrying around the produce of their betters, taking what was never theirs. Josef was tall and strong, straight-backed and unbothered by the pain he caused others. A perfect match that had arrived out of no-were, fighting his way up to the position of bandleader in less than a month. Tor had joined the group just slightly after but hadn¡¯t made the same kind of impact. Not that he wanted to. He wanted nothing to do with them and would ditch them in a minute if the opportunity ever presented itself.


    ¡°If you ever fuck with me again, I¡¯ll kill you on the spot¡±. It wasn¡¯t a threat, the man was stating a guaranteed outcome, and Tor heard himself swallow. He nodded weakly, uncertain of his voice.


    Tor hadn¡¯t fucked with him, he didn¡¯t swing that way. He had saved the life of a small family. Or at least saved them from a life of suffering and evil. He would have liked to think that it was something he had done intentionally, but the truth wasn¡¯t that pretty. He had considered helping them, but in the last moment he had chickened out, too afraid of the repercussions to go through with it. As he had squirmed about in his ambivalence, fate had intertwined, a snapped twig pulling off what he had been too weak to finish. The sound had startled them, made them bolt away from the sound like deer, forcing the band to choose between a drawn-out chase or letting them go. Josef hadn¡¯t been nearby, and the bandmembers on site had decided that it wasn¡¯t worth the hassle. Josef hadn¡¯t agreed, and the member who had made the decision had been blooded for it.


    The worst part was that Josef really wasn¡¯t wrong. Their sole purpose for being here was to spread the influence of the tribe. To catch anyone they could, take their belongings and give them the same choice that every member of the tribe had been forced to make: Join, submit or die. The last choice wasn¡¯t really an option, it really only meant submit and be beaten near death. Those who submitted would either serve the tribe at the extreme bottom of the pecking order or be sold off to some other group as a slave. There wasn¡¯t much of a difference between the two outcomes.


    Tor had chosen to join. In hindsight he regretted his decision, but it was the only way he could keep an eye out for his little brother. He was a rash kid despite his young age and had immediately voiced his desire to join with pride in his voice. It had saddened Tor, but he couldn¡¯t really fault him for his choice. In this fucked-up world, power was everything and Tor was the odd one for not wanting it. What made it worse was that it had been all for naught, he hadn¡¯t seen his brother since. He had been bunched up in a different crew that had left right after. Tor didn¡¯t want to think about what his brother might have seen or been made to do since.


    He was still on the ground from the shove. Josef must have left, because he was nowhere in sight. He got up and dared his way over to the communal fire were dinner was served. The meagre scrapings of roasted boar that he got wasn¡¯t were filling, but it was all that he would get. Like always, the strong were rewarded and the weak were spat at. Josef wouldn¡¯t be sleeping with an empty belly.


    The following day the band broke camp and moved on. They were on the outskirts of their territory, slowly increasing their influence by making the area unliveable for anything not unified enough to put up solid resistance. To the south was the domain of the Dwellers, the weird crowd who navigated the ancient ruins that littered the area, made strong and unpredictable from the secrets of a far-gone civilization. The tribe made sure to never bother them, at least for now. There was no reason to antagonize them when there so many easier targets about.


    There was no shortage of small villages here, hidden in pockets of forests or nestled up in the false security of a mountain. Most barely had guards, maybe a hunter or two who could step up in a pinch. A few had some trained warriors, but they stood a small chance against the tribe, where every proper member was a killer. They lived for violence, and the few warriors they faced were unbloodied in comparison. Tor¡¯s village hadn¡¯t fared fell when the tribe came knocking.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    A day went by with the band uneventfully moving about, searching for easy pickings. Tor new that peaceful lull was over when Josef gathered the band for a meeting in the afternoon. Tor felt the same cold dread that it always made him feel. It meant that the band had found new pray. It turned out to be another village, a few houses in a glade that was too occupied with surviving to put up much of a resistance. When the meeting was done, Tor did his best to get out of anyone¡¯s field of view. It was his best way of staying out of trouble. This time he wasn¡¯t fast enough. Josef caught him in his gaze and called him over.


    ¡°There is no weaselling out this time¡±, he said with a look full of contempt. ¡°You are going to do your part, and I¡¯m going to enjoy seeing you doing it¡±


    Tor said nothing, shaken by the unexpected development.


    ¡°When we strike tonight, you are going to be there at the very front, standing right by me¡±


    Tor¡¯s silence continued. It brought a scowl to the face of the man.


    ¡°Am I understood?¡± He growled.


    Tor nodded weakly in response, his mouth dry and hands cold. It got him a heave-handed slap to the face. It hurt, but at least he hadn¡¯t fallen over like the last time. Josef stepped in close to him, pressing his forehead against him. Tor would have stepped back, but the man had a firm grasp on his shirt, holding him in place.


    ¡°I want a fucking verbal confirmation, twerp.¡± He said in a low, threatening voice.


    Tor gathered himself and managed to stammer out a ¡°yes¡±, not sure of what he wanted to hear. It was hard to tell if Josef was happy with it or not, but he was once again pushed to the ground, and he remained there as Josef spun around and walked off with long, confident steps.


    Tor was reeling in his mind. He had to think of something, some way out of this mess. Otherwise, tonight would be the night where he became one of the ones he hated. Running off was no good, he still had his brother to look out for, and he was sure he wouldn¡¯t get very far anyway. Partly because he knew just how good the band was at tracking people down. But also because the wilderness was a dangerous place. He had practically zero chance at survival on his own, in no time he would either be out of food or be somebody else¡¯s food. He wasn¡¯t sure which of the two would be worst.


    What options did that leave him? He searched his mind for answers, but all that came up was tipping the village off, giving them a chance at flight. In other words, the exact same thing that had put him on Josef¡¯s shitlist to begin with. Tor didn¡¯t like it, but what choice did he have? When faced with the option of kill or be killed, you couldn¡¯t call yourself good unless you tried for a third way.


    Whit his mind made up, he began thinking of a way to pull it off. He was short on time. The trip to the village was an hour or so, and if this would have any point to it, the villagers would need all the time they could get. It was still only about lunchtime, which meant that they had little more than half a day until the rest of the band set out.


    He grabbed what little equipment he had, a bow and a long dagger, and made his way to the edge of camp as inconspicuously as he could. The camp¡¯s perimeter was always guarded, both to keep people from running off and as defence from potential attacks. The former was probably way more common. He casually walked around one of the outer tents as if he was going to take a piss. It was a plausible excuse in case this went sour. He stood by the tent for a little while, checking his surroundings with wide head movements. He figured that the best way to stay undetected was to not look like you were hiding something. His scanning showed that he was in luck, no-one seemed to have taken note of him. He held his breath and dove into the thick vegetation that surrounded the camp, his heart beating madly.


    He stayed there for half a second, ears tensed, searching for any sound that might show that he had been spotted. He heard nothing out of the ordinary, so he slowly made his way forward. The guards would usually be arranged in a ring around camp, thirty meters or so into the forest. He knew this because escape had been the first thing on his mind when he had first ended up in the band, and he had painstakingly scraped out any information that might help him get away.


    Tor¡¯s crawl through the forest slowly brought him closer to where the guards ought to be, and he soon saw the back of a guard. They shouldn¡¯t be grouped up too closely, so this one ought to be the only one that he had to worry about. The sole remaining hurdle now was figuring out how he would get past him. Killing the man was out. Partly because that was what he was trying to avoid in the first place, but mostly because he didn¡¯t stand a chance in a fight.


    He and his brother had been raised by couple of farmers who had stumbled upon them next to their dead parents, whom he had been too young to have any memory off. He had lived his life as a farmhand, and the meagre skill he had with the bow slung across his back was just enough to occasionally bring down some small game, but only if they were unaware and luck was on his side. The guard in front of him on the other hand, had probably survived countless fights. The band only put their more experienced members on guard duty, and that was only partly because the rest had a tendency to bolt at first chance. When the main thing you dealt in was killing, enemies had a tendency to pile up. As Josef was prone to say, a solid line of sentries is usually the difference between them piling up on your doorstep, or you piling them up in a ditch.


    He really had no clue as to how he should get past the guard. He considered distracting him by throwing something as a diversion, but he couldn¡¯t believe that it would be very effective. At best it might cause the guard to look away for a second, but that wouldn¡¯t be enough. He would need some solid five minutes of the guard not being there, otherwise he wouldn¡¯t have enough time to leave the guard¡¯s field of view. He sat there, desperately scraping his brain for a solution while the preciously little time he had steadily decreased.


    His legs had long gone numb from his awkward position when fate intervened and handed him a solution. It was a series of low birdcalls that made the guard¡¯s head snap in attention. The guard in front of him answered with a similar call, and then began looking around nervously. Another call was heard, which made the guard carefully walk away from his post, seemingly towards the next guard in the ring around camp.


    Tor couldn¡¯t make much sense of what was happening, but he wasn¡¯t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As soon as he judged that the other guard was out of earshot, he sat out into the forest, crawling as fast as he dared. As he left camp behind him, he could have sworn he heard the rhythmic grunting of two voices carrying through the forest.

 Chapter 14 – A lesson at Boaring Uni

    Hanna sighed. They had been whittling and hunting ever since they got here, and it was getting on her nerves. The trek here had been uneventful and short. Just a day¡¯s march around the mountain, halfway down its slope. The road leading them here had honestly been more of a path, but her dull oaf of a teacher had cherished every step, all the while instilling in her the great honour of threading on it. Apparently, countless generations had walked the path towards the forest, to complete some trial and take their first steps towards mastery of the spear. Of course, he kept tight-lipped about the actual content of the trial. Hanna hardly knew the man, but she could already tell that he wasn¡¯t one for clear and helpful instructions. Grandeur and ceremony sure, but actual teachings seemed off the table. What was worse was that he seemed utterly without a sense of humour. Any jabs from her only made him sulky, and since he kept quiet when he wasn¡¯t spouting large words and nonsense, time wasn¡¯t exactly flying.


    She was sitting in her usual spot: on a lone rock by a swamp in the woods, slowly chipping away at the massive log in front of her. Calling it whittling was a huge understatement, about as misleading as calling what they did the rest of the time hunting. The log that she had in front of her had been arduously wrestled away from the bottom of the swamp. The task had been made that much more annoying by Anders¡¯ insistence that she at all costs must avoid contact with the water. He claimed that it wasn¡¯t really water and that it was harmful to the body, but she wasn¡¯t buying it. Even if it was true, she was willing to bet that her fucked-up body2.0 would be able to handle it. Hanna had chalked up his weird rule as some silly part of her training, meant to teach her the value of preparation and patience or something similar. It had thought her the value of preparation and patience, but that was beside the point. It was annoying and frustrating as hell, and that was just describing the process of bringing one end of the log close enough to shoreline that she could grab it.


    Hanna had been given special gloves by Anders that reached well above her biceps and had fitted terribly enough to make pulling the log out of the water about twice as hard as it would have been without them. As she slowly had gotten the huge thing out of the swamp, it had dawned on her just how obscenely heavy it was. She had to use every ounce of her strength just to move it the slightest bit, her feet constantly struggling to find purchase in the wet ground.


    The only upside to Hanna¡¯s two-day struggle was the workout she had gotten, as well as an increased awareness of her contact with the ground. Her absurd strength coupled with her light frame made her footing an ever-present concern. Her weight plus whatever traction she could get was the direct limiter to how much force she could exert, and she was honestly growing dead tired of pushing herself around like a moron whenever she had misjudged how good of a grip she had on the ground.


    When the damned log was finally out of the swamp, the only instructions she had gotten from Anders had been to make sure it stayed wet, and to start whittling away at it. All questions she had thrown at him had pointedly been ignored, ¡°Keep it wet and keep whittling¡± being the only answer that she got out of the man. She wasn¡¯t sure what was worse, having to constantly submerge the log in the swamp or spending hour after hour chipping away at the impossibly hard wood. Anders didn¡¯t help at all. He spent most of his time stoically practicing with his spear, always making sure to keep within her line of sight.


    It was unclear if it was to annoy her or to teach her something, but if it was the latter he wasn¡¯t very successful. She spent most of her time looking at the log anyway, as it was unexpectedly hard to affect the wood even with the axe that she had borrowed from Anders. Each deliberate strike from her only removed small pieces of the log, and it was massive to begin with. She had literally no clue of what she should be doing, and in the absence of direction she had decided to generally just make it thinner. Mostly to make the constant burden of dipping it in the swamp a bit less annoying.


    She had gotten far enough by now that she had begun eating into the core of the log, distinctly visible by its darker colour and increased durability. Unless Anders stopped her, it would soon be thin enough that she could hold it with one hand, at least if it was about half as long. The second that she considered decreasing its length, the idea was stuck in her head. She really wanted to snap this fucker in half. It would make dealing with it a lot less annoying and picturing the sound of it breaking apart put an itch in her hands, reminding her of when she popped bubble wrap as a kid.


    A quick glance at her stoic teacher showed that he was still endlessly cycling through the same motions with his spear. He hadn¡¯t bothered explaining them to her, so she had labelled them herself. Stab, slash and check was what she called them. Anders constantly shifted between the three, intricate variations turning it into some weirdly flowing version of a dance. She probably ought to check with him before she chopped the log in two. It would suck so hard if he made her start over from scratch.


    ¡°Hey buddy¡±, She shouted, knowing full well that he disliked anything less than his proper name. He frowned at her and ceased his dance.


    ¡°I was thinking of snapping this in two, any thoughts on that?¡±


    The large man looked at her for second, and she thought she saw the hint of smile.


    ¡°Keep on whittling¡±, he said with a grunt and got back to waving his spear around. Hanna interpreted it as an approval but couldn¡¯t help herself from worrying that it meant ¡°lol, don¡¯t care¡±. There was no way she would do this from scratch again.


    Moving on with her plan, she jumped on top of the log and began chopping with great gusto, striking between her feet like a Basque aizkolari. She wasn¡¯t that proficient with an axe so it probably wasn¡¯t very safe, but shrugging of risks like that was in her opinion the main perk of her weird body. She wasn¡¯t exactly making quick progress but compared to how tedious her work had been until now she almost felt exhilarated.


    As the hours passed by the log got thinner. When she felt that her weight was making it flex a bit she doubled down on it, longing for the sweet satisfaction promised in that future snap. When it finally arrived it was all that she had wanted, but the real reward came when she picked up one of the pieces and epiphany struck her. A spear, she thought. She was supposed to craft her own spear. It really was the only logical explanation. It didn¡¯t make any sense why she had to start with a huge fucking tree instead of branch or maybe a thinner tree, but that could probably just be Anders¡¯ lovely version of a lesson.


    When she experimentally moved the piece around in a poor attempt at Anders¡¯ graceful movements, it felt clumsy in her hands. Hanna realized that she was onto something, inspiration guiding her as she made some quick chops with the axe. A few practice swings told her that it was better, but nowhere near good enough. She got back to whittling away at the log, but this time with an elated feeling in her chest. Her focus on the task distracted her from the view of her teacher as he watched her work with a complex frown on his face.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    It was with annoyance that she accepted defeat a while later. Apparently, a day only had so many hours of light in it, and the darkness made future progress with her spear impossible. That night she gorged herself on dinner and slept like a log, and morning came quickly. She was eager to get back to working on her spear, but Anders informed her that it was time to go hunting once again. Considering the amounts she ate, Hanna had no business complaining about it. That didn¡¯t mean she was looking forward to it. It couldn¡¯t rightly be called boring, even if it was that to at times. Mostly it was a study in frustration, that really had to be seen to be believed.


    She made sure to grab her sword before she joined Anders on his way towards their hunting grounds. She had been told over and over by her stickler of a teacher that it wasn¡¯t necessary to bring it along and that it hindered her training. Hanna wasn¡¯t buying it. Every single occasion of hunting until now had proven otherwise, and she seriously doubted today would be any different.


    The hunting grounds that they used wasn¡¯t a very defined area, it was simply any nearby part of the forest that was suitably open. The area around the swamp was absolutely swamped by one animal in particular. Anders called them boars, but they really weren¡¯t. They had the general shape of them, but they were usually almost a meter and a half tall, and all of them spouted a single horn in addition to a pair of massive tusks. Hanna had obviously dubbed them uniboars. The cute name didn¡¯t do much for their image though. They were still raging freight-trains of death that steamrolled everything foolish enough to stand in their way, and Hanna wouldn¡¯t miss them for a second if they went extinct. Their meat didn¡¯t even taste well.


    Her first attempt at killing one of them had been a harrowing experience. Armed with Anders¡¯ spear and virtually zero knowledge on how to use it, she had hesitantly followed his directions and approached one of the boars. It had given her a single grunt as warning, staring at her for a second before it decided that time was up. The creature¡¯s mad charge accelerated unbelievably fast, and when you stood in its way and saw its approach, it had a chilling effect that scared Hanna to the bone every time she saw it. It was as if you just had to stand there for one more second, to see the results of its awesome power. If not for Anders shoving her out of the way she would definitely have been hit, and she wasn¡¯t sure her healing could have saved her from that.


    The rest of that first hunt had been her clumsily trying to stay alive until Anders stepped in and saved her ass. Stuck up as he was, he refused to contribute to the hunt. Any kill that wasn¡¯t hers was butchered and preserved and then they had to go out hunting once again. At her second attempt she actually managed to kill a boar, but only by a hairs-width and not with her spear. It had been a grisly affair, and she had really only managed because the boar was awfully bad at healing from sword-cuts, whereas she was taking her tusk-cuts in stride. Kind of. She had been lucky with where she got hit, mostly raking up cuts on the outside of her arms and legs. She did not want to think about what would happen if it spilled her guts or something.


    Every attempt after that one had ended with Anders stepping in before things got out of hand. Now that she thought about it, that was probably because he didn¡¯t want a repletion of what happened earlier. How kind of him.


    Hanna grabbed the spear from Anders and prepared for the coming hunt. Today would be different, she would make sure. The inspiration that she found as she was carving away at her spear had made things click together. All she had been doing with Anders so far was related to spears, just in a needlessly roundabout way. Pulling the log out of the water had thought her footwork and how to shift weights around without losing balance, and crafting the beginnings of a spear from that huge log had made her think really hard about the properties of the spear. Hell, Anders had even made sure to hammer in the point by constantly showing her the proper forms for battle. The central theme of his teachings seemed to be that she had to discover insight on her own. Hanna was sure that it wasn¡¯t a very effective method.


    That aside, she was beginning to feel that she was actually learning something now, and she was eager to try out her new insights against any uniboar that was lurking around. They found one without too much hassle, possible due to the fact that they feared nothing and was the size of a small cow. She begun approaching the freakish animal, gripping her spear tight with sweaty palms. She still hadn¡¯t practiced any of Anders¡¯ movements, but she could picture them clearly in her mind. They weren¡¯t entirely unlike what Birgitta had taught her, so she figured she had a chance at pulling this off anyway.


    Hanna begun to visualize the coming fight. The uniboar would charge her, anything else were unthinkable. And she would jump out of the way, obviously. Then what, what would Anders do? She could think of several smart choices and felt the odds of this succeeding becoming better and better. A threatening Oink told her that prep time was over, and her pulse began to skyrocket. As the beast charged at her, she got the same chilling effect as always, where she just stood there and awaited the charge¡¯s inevitable conclusion. But she had learnt how to snap out of it by the last couple of tries. The trick was to force her head to study her surroundings, breaking the tunnel-vision like they taught her in the army. The sideways head movement didn¡¯t reveal anything shocking, it just snapped her out of the daze with enough time to barely throw herself away from the boar¡¯s path.


    Her plan had been to stab it after jumping away from the charge, but she realized now that it wasn¡¯t feasible. By the time she had gotten back to her feet, the uniboar was already ten meters or so away from her and desperately decelerating lest it collide with a tree. Hanna got her hopes up, but it was in vain. It stopped just fine and was now neatly turning itself around with tripping movements. Hanna decided that she had had enough of its charges and decided to get in close and personal.


    For a short moment their roles were reversed as she dashed towards the giant pig, but she couldn¡¯t really produce the same awesome effect. It all seemed promising until she arrived, lacking inspiration for her next move. She was like a dog that chased a car. What would she do if she ever caught up with it?


    The boar eyed her warily, giving her time to focus on the task at hand. She slashed at its side, unwilling to get too close and repeat the bloody battle from earlier. Her slash made the boar squeal and left a deep gash at its side. It also made it dash straight at her. The close distance meant that it was barely more than a tackle, but the 400 kilos in weight difference tossed her mercilessly to the ground, and she felt her body break under the pressure of the beast''s sharp hooves.


    Her failure brought the fight out of her, and she just laid there, hoping that her healing included broken bones. In the background, the frantic sounds of battle told her that Anders was finishing the animal off, and his success was confirmed with a final, weak squeal.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked as he bent over her to look her in the eyes. He seemed stressed and nervous.


    Hanna was about to frown at the silly question but decided to first check the facts. She had learned that with Anders, you had to be careful with the sarcasm. She tried patting her ribs, but even the slightest movement of her arm told her that she wasn¡¯t healed yet. That was disheartening. She winced as she brought her head up to look at her chest, only to find a piece of bone grotesquely poking out of her ribcage.


    Fuck.

 Chapter 15 – The art of polishing your spear

    Hanna stared at the bone sticking out of her. It wasn¡¯t a view she was comfortable with. Perhaps no one was, but she really wasn¡¯t. Then again, she couldn¡¯t just lay here with her ribcage in tatters. What to do? She didn¡¯t know shit about medicine, but the fact that she had no trouble breathing aside from the discomfort it caused, told her that her lung probably wasn¡¯t punctured. That was a thing, right? At least it had been in movies she had seen. She probably ought to push the bone back in, but maybe that would worsen the wound. And was it really safe to push it in without disinfecting it? It was probably covered with whatever germs and muck had been on her and the boar.


    As she laid there and contemplated her options, she heard Anders rummage around next to her. Right, I¡¯m not alone in this, she thought with relief. Her teacher was by her side and he probably knew what to do. Given the countless generations that had done this before her, he ought to know exactly how to treat wounds like hers. She bit down against the pain and changed her position so that she could see what he was doing.


    Anders was scrambling about in a panic, checking and rechecking the equipment that they had available.


    ¡°You okay there, buddy?¡± Hanna asked with a strained voice. She so didn¡¯t need this right now.


    Anders snapped out of his haze and looked at her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do!¡±, he shouted with a stressed voice.


    ¡°I thought I was the last in a long line of people who have done this trial?¡± Talking was laborious but manageable.


    He looked confused. ¡°You are.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing this sort of thing happen from time to time?¡±.


    Anders nodded. ¡°It happens¡±.


    ¡°Then why are you acting like a baby about it?¡±


    He took her hand in his and looked her in the eye. ¡°It happens, but people don¡¯t usually survive it¡±. His concern seemed genuine.


    Huh, Hanna thought. That kind of makes sense. If this happened to the average villager, there probably wasn¡¯t much left to patch up afterwards. Okay, whatever, there is a first for everything. What to do?


    Hanna forced her hand to touch the wound. The feeling of her own bone against her fingertips made her stomach churn. She was bleeding continuously. Perhaps she was just being melodramatic, but she thought she was growing weaker. They had to make a decision now.


    ¡°Do you have any alcohol?¡± She asked.


    Anders frowned at her. ¡°Alcohol corrupts the spirit, and this is hardly the time for it!¡±


    ¡°But do you have some?¡± She asked again with annoyance in her voice.


    Anders looked at her quietly, shame in his eyes. Fucking hypocrite.


    ¡°Yes¡±, he said weakly and went to get it. He handed it to her without meeting her eyes. She failed to remove the lid with just one hand.


    ¡°I need you to pour this on the wound¡±, she said.


    Anders appeared to be catching on to. ¡°You want to push it back in?¡± He asked incuriously.


    ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡±


    Anders didn¡¯t answer. They both realized that carrying her back to the village would take too long. This really was the only option.


    When the liquid hit her wound it burned badly, but Hanna endured. ¡°Pour some on your hands as well", she added as an afterthought when the pain had died down somewhat. It was probably wise.


    ¡°Right", Anders complied.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡±, he asked with wet hands hovering over her wound.


    Hanna didn''t think she was, but she nodded resolutely.


    At the sight of her nod, Anders grabbed the bone and pushed it in with a hard, determined motion. It hurt like hell, much worse than the alcohol. Hanna¡¯s scream echoed through the forest. As his hands left the wound in her chest, Hanna felt something move around inside of her. It was probably her body wrangling the bone into place. She laid there panting, trying her best not to think about how weird it felt. Whatever her body was doing, it at least didn¡¯t hurt. When it seemed like everything had stopped moving, she took a deep breath and prodded the wound with her hand. Nothing hurt. Everything seemed completely normal, it wasn¡¯t even sore. Sweet.


    As she groggily got up from the ground she felt the world sway, as if she stood up after a long period of sickness or hunger. Her body''s reserves were probably spent. It seemed fair, she had healed from wounds that by all rights should have taken weeks or months to recover from. She accepted Anders outstretched hand for support and made her way over to a nearby rock to sit on.


    ¡°Food¡±, she commanded.


    Anders hurriedly produced some boar jerky and Hanna set about chewing on it dispassionately. It had been their main source of nutrition since they got here, and it had quickly lost its novelty. She pressed down a mouthful through her dry throat and looked at Anders.


    ¡°Water¡±


    He gave her his bottle and looked at her sceptically.


    ¡°How are you even alive?¡±


    Hanna answered with a shrug and continued shewing. Anders didn''t resume the conversation, so they just sat there while Hanna worked her way through all the meat they had with them. By the time she was done, Hanna felt a little less shaky and they trekked back to camp. Anders was dragging the uniboar, so Hanna had to rely on his spear for support. Anders seemed to be complementing something and very little was said during their walk.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Back at camp Hanna went back to carving on her spear. She didn¡¯t feel especially energetic, but she was still eager to get it done. Shortly into her work she saw Anders walking up to her. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was far outside his comfort zone.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to narrow the point any further¡±, he said.


    Hanna stopped working and waited for the man to continue. Him giving her actual instructions was completely out of character.


    Anders looked down and scraped the ground with his toes. ¡°I¡¯m uh...¡± He trailed of before he gathered himself. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for what happened. I¡¯m your teacher, you are my responsibility and my arrogance nearly cost you your life"


    Hanna didn''t disagree with him and let her silence speak for her.


    ¡°I was so angry that an outsider would be given this honour. My anger clouded my judgement, but it''s a poor excuse. I¡¯ve failed you¡±


    Anders huge frame was hunkered down in shame. He seemed genuinely regretful and Hanna felt sorry for the man.


    ¡°I survived though. There is still time to right your wrong"


    Anders seemed a little encouraged by her offered hand. He smiled weakly.


    ¡°You are right", he said. ¡°Would you give this fool a second chance?¡± he asked with a kind voice.


    Hanna got up from her seated position and patted him on the arm. ¡°Sure¡±, she said. ¡°Where do we start?¡±


    What followed was entirely different from what they had done earlier. They spent a good amount of time working together on her budding spear, trying to reach an ideal shape for her unique circumstances. Hanna''s disproportional strength allowed her to use a much heavier spear than her frame suggested. That created a much-needed opportunity to put some weight behind her strikes. The downside was that she would be much more affected by the spear¡¯s movement compared to a normal human. It was something that would need to be carefully balanced, but if done right it could prove a deadly tool, especially if her opponent wasn''t prepared for it. Pretty much all of Anders'' moves would need to be slightly tweaked, but he seemed to be looking forward to the challenge.


    When they weren¡¯t working on the spear, they constantly practiced fighting with it. Hanna could use a lot of what Birgitta taught her, so she didn¡¯t really start from scratch. She was still a novice though, especially by Anders'' standards, so he stoically refused to teach her anything but the basics. He didn''t bring her on any more hunts, and given what happened the last time, she wasn''t eager to press the subject.


    On the beginning of the third day of this regime, they suddenly realised that they were done. The spear had reached its perfect form, where nothing could be improved further. It was something that she knew with certainty. It could be felt with her hands as she went through the forms that Anders had taught her. Then and there she realised the value of the arduous process she had gone through. The slow and focus shaping had given her a weapon that perfectly suited her and which she was intimately familiar with.


    The rest of the day was spent practicing the forms, with Anders constantly nit-picking on the slightest mistake she made. When the day was done and Hanna huddled up by the fire to eat dinner, she was feeling absolutely exhausted. Anders¡¯ changed approach to teaching was a major improvement, but with the spear done she was growing increasingly bored. Changed teaching style or not, he was still a dull stickler, and his lessons was a far cry from the action packed and horrifying ones taught by Birgitta.


    The sight of Anders approaching her brought her out of her whining. He had been away for an hour or so, and he refused to say what he would be doing. He wore a strange smile, looking both sneaky and full of anticipation. The man was up to something. He was carrying a long object wrapped up in cloth, and from the size and shape of it, Hanna recognises it at once as her spear. She held her questions and waited for him to settle down in the warmth of the fire.


    He was quiet for a moment. The silence and the snapping of the burning logs brought a ritualistic mood to their campsite.


    ¡°This is a tradition that has been carried out since ancient times", he began.


    ¡°Generation after generation, a promising student would follow in the steps of a teacher, going through the same process that you have. It¡¯s normally done after years of training, but as we both know, you will never fit inside the boundaries of normality¡±


    Hanna slowly nodded in agreement.


    ¡°As I have told you before, the water in this swamp is not normal. It has a unique property that is harmful to the body, but that can transform wood in wondrous ways if treated properly. It wasn''t out of spite that I had you constantly soaking the spear!¡±


    Hanna didn''t really believe the last part but kept quiet and watched as he ceremoniously placed the wrapped spear in front of her. It was soon followed by a flask of glass that was carefully placed on the ground. It was probably the first time she had seen anything made of glass since before the gap in her memories.


    ¡°Thoroughly coat the spear with the oil in there¡±, he said and pointed at the flask. ¡°You mustn''t miss a single spot!¡± he added and stared at her challengingly.


    ¡°Yeah, I get it", Hanna said when she realised that he wasn¡¯t going to continue without a confirmation.


    ¡°When you are done you must wrap it up again, otherwise you disrupt the process. When morning arrives, it will be done"


    The ceremony of coating the spear was apparently meant to be performed in solitude, since Anders left soon after. She followed his instructions and tried to honour the ceremony of it by only cursing a little over how hard it was to do wearing his stupid gloves.


    When morning came she was gently nudged awake by Anders. Feeling like a kid at Christmas, she hurriedly unwrapped the spear. It was no longer wet, and after checking with Anders she gingerly touched it with her bare skin for the first time. It felt nothing like wood. It had adopted the same metal-like hardness that Anders'' spear had, which she honestly had just assumed was made of metal.


    ¡°It turned metallic?¡±


    ¡°Far better, child. Metal will dull and bend over time, but this spear will never fail you¡±


    Hanna would have to take his word for it, but it did certainly feel very sturdy. She felt pride as she trailed her hands over her beautiful creation. It wasn¡¯t as long as Anders'', probably just short of two and a half meters. It had the same narrow triangular tip as his but the shaft was thinner, just wide enough that she could hold it comfortably. The main difference was in the shape. Unlike Anders'' spear, hers gradually widened towards the base, to lessen the effect its weight had on her centre of balance.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fine weapon¡±, Anders commented. ¡°Now that it is done, it is time for us to commence hunting again"


    Hanna didn¡¯t know how she felt about that. She didn''t want to see herself as a coward, but her last attempt had unnerved her. Anders put a heavy hand on her shoulder, seeing her hesitation.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, dear pupil. This time we will do it right¡±, he said. Hanna didn''t feel reassured.


    They waited with the hunt until nightfall, making sure that she got some time to practice the forms with her new spear. Eventually darkness came, and Hanna felt tense as they made their way into the woods. They found a boar just as easily as the last time, and far sooner than she would have wanted, she was once again staring into the beady eyes of this hateful creature. This time would be different, she just knew it. This time she was prepared, and she had her own spear now. On top of that, this time she actually had some clear advice from her teacher. She wasn''t sure if she liked what he had suggested, but it was a solid step up from her usual tactic of plainly winging it.


    Anders¡¯ plan was an all or nothing kind of deal, and she still hadn''t decided if she would follow it. Hanna eyed her opponent. It might have been a tad smaller than the last one, but it made little difference. It would still suck if she would be run over again. While her healing continued to impress, she guessed that a horn through the brain was probably more than it could handle.


    In front of her the boar did its customary ceremony of a snort and a shuffle. Probably boarish for fuck off mate or I gut you. Hanna giggled and felt some of the tension leave her. She tried to come up with a witty comeback but failed. Mostly because the creature had stopped stalling. With her hands tightly gripping her weapon, she was as always moved by the violent power of its approach. But her resolve didn''t waver, she had made her decision. As the locomotion of death grew ever closer, she pointed her spear towards the creature and focused. The grounds shook and Hanna smiled. She held her ground.

 Chapter 16 – Headlessly going forward

    Tor studied the small village as he leaned against a tree at the edge of the forest. He was covered in sweat and struggled to regain his breath. The skin on his face burned as if he had a fever. He had run like a madman ever since he left camp, trying to give the village every single minute of a head start that he could. It seemed a peaceful place and his stomach ached as he thought about the carnage that soon would fall upon it. He spent one precious minute collecting himself and straightened up his appearance, figuring he needed to lock as credible as possible. No villagers were in sight, so he made his way over to the largest of the houses that he could see. A knock and a nervous wait later, an old man carefully peeked out through the barely opened door.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± He asked with a hoarse voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come to warn you, you must leave this village now!¡± Tor replied with a passion. On his way over he had laboured with different ways to communicate the threat to the villagers. It never sounded very plausible, so in the end he had settled for simplicity.


    The old man glared at him suspiciously, without a hint of hurry. ¡°What for?¡±.


    Shit, Tor thought. Them not buying his story was his main worry, and he had yet to come up with a way to convince them. ¡°The Wolfes are coming, they¡¯ll be here in mere hours!¡±


    The man spat through the gap in the door. ¡°Do you take me for a fool, kid?¡±


    Tor shook his head. ¡°Not at all¡±


    ¡°Then tell me this: Who but a Wolf would know this?¡±


    Tor hadn¡¯t thought that far. ¡°You are right, I am a Wolf¡±, he admitted. His words made the door slam promptly shut. ¡°I am a Wolf, but not in heart¡± he shouted through the door, hoping that the old man was still listening. ¡°The rest of us are on their way over as we speak. If you leave now, you still have a chance to get away!¡±


    ¡°Bullocks.¡± The man¡¯s voice was muffled through the door. ¡°You are just trying to fool us out of the safety of our homes.¡±


    ¡°There is no safety in your homes, you moronic old geezer!¡±, Tor snapped in desperation. His panic was growing, every second wasted here brought the Wolfes ever closer. No retort came from inside the door, and for a short moment Tor feared that this was the end of their discussion. But then he heard the old man unbolt the door and he felt his jaws relax from a tension he didn¡¯t know they had been under.


    ¡°You really are telling the truth, aren¡¯t you lad?¡± Only the head of the old man was poking out from the gap in the door. He looked pale and frail in a way that he hadn¡¯t earlier.


    ¡°Yes damnit¡±


    The old man was quiet as he pondered the implications for a while. Eventually his face filled with determination.


    ¡°Then we have much to do and little time to do it¡±


    After that the two of them then went on a mad tour of the village, rushing from door to door trying to convince everyone of the urgency of the matter. Given how frail the old man looked, Tor had expected that the main time sink would be shepherding his weak body from house to house, but these villagers really wasn¡¯t a trusting sort and they spent a ridiculous amount of time dropping the same pitch over and over. Their distrust probably served them well most of the time, but you¡¯d think they could make an exception when their life was on the line.


    The day had grown worryingly late by the time all of the villagers were gathered outside of the old man¡¯s home. Apparently, he was the informal village head, so Tor had probably lucked out when he went to that house first. They had told everyone to only grab the absolute essentials, but almost every family was stacking huge piles of luggage by their feet. Pulling the escape off was looking less likely by the minute.


    When they finally left the village, it was in a single line that inched their way forward on the forest trails at a dangerously slow pace, and Tor running up and down the line hurrying people on didn¡¯t do squat to improve it. He felt a growing fear as time went by, there was far too little distance between them and the village. As the sun went down the forest grew pitch black, which could have given them some cover if he only could have convinced the thick-headed villagers to snuff their lanterns. No such luck though, despite him walking at the very front of the line, constantly trying to convince the old man how dangerous it was.


    The lanterns barely lit up a metre ahead of them, but it was enough for Tor to see the silhouette of man step out of the bushes further up the trail. All the fear and anxiety in his chest immediately turned into cold dread. He couldn¡¯t see the face, but he instinctually knew who it was.


    The dull sound of palm against palm echoed through the forest as Josef slowly applauded him.


    ¡°Good job Tor. You have performed perfectly¡±, he said with a mocking voice. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have been prouder¡±


    The forest spun around Tor and he felt light-headed. How was this possible?


    The caravan had stopped, and he didn¡¯t need to turn around to know that the villagers were glaring at him. He could feel their disappointed and angry stares burning in his back from his unwitting betrayal.


    All around them, more and more members of the band stepped out of the bushes. The villagers were thoroughly surrounded. Josef walked up to him with a slow swagger. Tor flinched as Josef reached towards him with his large hand, but for once he wasn¡¯t slapped or shoved. Josef just gently put his hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye with a victorious smile.


    ¡°Did you honestly think you could pull the same shit twice?¡±


    Tor felt horrible. He honestly wished for Josef to hurt him, anything to make it clear to the others that he wasn¡¯t a part of this. The villager¡¯s resentment was palpable, and his shame made him sick to the stomach. He didn¡¯t even dare to look at the old man beside him.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°For your exemplary performance, I¡¯m giving you the honour of the first kill¡±. Josef spoke with a loud voice, making sure everyone heard him.


    Tor didn¡¯t move an inch, his body frozen in fear. The old man¡¯s cry of pain as someone kicked him down to his knees brought him out of his shock and he turned towards the frail figure on the ground next to him. He absentmindedly grabbed the short sword that Josef was offering him, fully absorbed by the thinness of the old man¡¯s neck.


    ¡°If you are too weak to do it, there are plenty of others who would be glad to take your spot¡±, Josef said with a sneer.


    A wave of relief washed over Tor as he heard Josef¡¯s words, but at the same time he was overcome with disgust of himself. He was a fucking hypocrite, thinking himself too good to do evil, but happy when others did it for him. He still didn¡¯t mind the proposition, he really couldn¡¯t see himself taking the life of a human.


    Behind him someone spat. ¡°I told you he was too much of a piss-ant to do it¡±. The voice was full of disdain and disappointment.


    Tor¡¯s legs buckled under him and he felt the sword dropping from his hand as all strength left him. He knew that voice better than any. The words were from his baby brother, the only family he had left and his main reason for living. The words sounded alien in ears. This was not the brother he remembered.


    ¡°Erik!¡± Josef exclaimed happily. ¡°Care to cover for your brother?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be proud to do it¡±, Tor heard his little brother say. He couldn¡¯t for the life of him make sense of the situation. When had this change in his brother happened? He had always been rash and ambitious, but the malice Tor felt from him was something new. His brother looked the same as he remembered him. He might be dressed in mismatched pieces of armour, likely pilfered from the pack¡¯s victims, but it was the same unruly hair that he remembered, and the thin fingers that picked up the dropped sword were the same that he had held in his hand a thousand times as they grew up. And now the spindly frame that he had hugged and comforted during dark moments slowly lifted the sword high, getting ready to take the life of an innocent old man.


    ¡°Stop!¡±


    Everyone turned towards Tor. Erik held his strike, slowly lowering the sword.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it¡±, he heard himself say in a defeated voice. It felt like he was seeing everything from a distance as he slowly grabbed the sword from his brother. His heart felt numb, and it was with apathy that he noted the wide grin on Josef¡¯s face as he positioned himself next to the old man. Tor¡¯s arms raised the sword mechanically above his head. He tried to focus and bring himself to strike, but his thoughts were sluggish and incoherent. His arms swayed as he balanced the weight of the weapon, waiting for his heart to catch up. A sideways look brought his little brother into view. He couldn¡¯t tell if the sharp stare he got was one of judgement or approval, but it helped him gather his resolve. This is for you, brother.


    The sword wasn¡¯t well maintained, and Tor was not a warrior. The old man¡¯s head didn¡¯t roll down on the ground like he thought it would. It just hung sickeningly from the neck, mostly cut through but still attached by skin and sinew. Tor tossed the weapon away from him the second that he deed was done, feeling like he¡¯d burn his hands if he held it for even a second longer. Soon after, his stomach decided that it had enough, warm bile making its way up his throat.


    The sound of Tor retching snapped everyone out of the weird spell they¡¯d fallen under, villager and marauder alike. The villagers began vailing, but none of them tried to get away from the encirclement that was steadily closing in on them. Josef shouted out order to his men, and they quickly disarmed the villagers without giving them opportunity to resist, pushing them to the ground. The old and frail were separated from the rest and was then summarily executed. It was the wolfs¡¯ usual way of doing things, something they had done hundreds of times before. The brutality of it put the remaining villagers into a shocked stupor, only making the processes even easier for their tormentors.


    ¡°You have a choice, my friends¡±, Josef said with his commanding voice. ¡°Do you want to be trampled on? Or do you want to be the ones who trample?¡±


    None of the villagers responded. Given their chock and the gravity of the decision, their indecisiveness was understandable. Josef took their passivity in stride.


    ¡°Chose now, or the decision will be made for you¡±, he said, putting his fist above his head. ¡°I¡¯m giving you until the count of five. If you aren¡¯t standing up when I¡¯m done, then you have brought upon yourself a life of servitude and suffering¡±.


    Tor didn¡¯t need to look up from his puddle of vomit to know that Josef had their rapt attention. It wasn¡¯t that long ago that he had been in their position.


    ¡°One!¡± Josef began his count, extending a solitary finger. The huddling group of villagers franticly began discussing with each other, trying to make sure their loved ones took the same decision.


    ¡°Two!¡± One of the villagers stood up. It was a young man, not unlike Tor¡¯s brother. A woman next to him was crying, but she remained seated.


    ¡°Three!¡± Three more joined the young man, who was trying to get his mother to stand up.


    ¡°Four!¡± Two more stood up, by the looks of it a couple.


    ¡°Five!¡± Josef finished. None of the villagers moved. Except for the ones crying, no one made a sound. Josef lowered his hand and let the silence linger for a while.


    ¡°To those of you who have the strength to create your own fortune, welcome to the Wolfes!¡± he said, and commanded his men to gather the standing villagers. They weren¡¯t bound, but they were closely guarded.


    ¡°As for the rest of you¡±, Josef continued. ¡°You might spite us and curse your misfortune. But don¡¯t lie to yourself. You were given a choice, and this was the fate you settled for. I hope you can live with your choice.¡±


    As soon as he had finished, the sitting villagers¡¯ hands were tied, and they were then strung up to each other, like beads on a neckless. The baggage that they had been carrying was quickly ransacked by the marauders. The few items that held any actual value was loaded unto the captured villagers, as if they were mere beasts of burden. Tor was trying to make up his mind if he should make an attempt to stand up, or if he just should remain laying in his vomit. Neither option felt like a good idea.


    The sound of someone walking towards him made him look up from his collection of half-digested food. Josef hunched down, meeting him halfway.


    ¡°I honestly didn¡¯t think you had it in you¡±, he said gleefully.


    Tor met the man¡¯s eyes and felt a burning anger in his chest. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you one day¡±, he said, and was surprised to feel that he honestly meant it. For the first time in his life, Tor genuinely wanted to hurt someone. He wanted nothing more than to see Josef loose his prideful smile, bent over from a sword in the gut.


    ¡°That¡¯s more like it¡±, Josef said and patted his head as if he was a child. ¡°Just make sure that you have what it takes before you try anything. Because I promise you, you won¡¯t live to regret the decision.¡±


    Josef held his gaze for a while longer, letting his message sink in. Then he stood up and began preparing the band to leave. A few minutes later, Tor was joined by one of Josef¡¯s many eager helpers, who pulled him up with a firm grip on his hair and brought him to the middle of the line where he had exactly zero chance to run off.


    Tor tried to find his brother in the group. His stomach ached as he remembered the harshness of his brother¡¯s words. There had to be an explanation for it, if he could just talk to him one on one, he was sure they could put things straight. They had always been close, and he couldn¡¯t believe that a few weeks of separation could have caused his brother to change so much. But he was nowhere to be seen, and the darkness of the woods forced him to focus on the ground just to keep from falling.


    From the front of the line he could hear Josef whistling a jolly tune as he led the band towards future prospects, his whistling accompanied by the subdued sobbing of his most recent victims.

 Chapter 17 – A glimpse of the future

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking care that you killed a little piggy. I still don¡¯t trust you enough to let you loose among our villagers¡±. Birgitta said and flicked Hanna¡¯s forehead.


    Hanna gave her the stink-eye. ¡°What now then? Do you have any more crash courses to put me through?¡±


    ¡°Why would I? I¡¯ve taught you how to use a sword and a spear. You¡¯re already better than most of the little shits in the village. What more could you possible want?¡±


    Hanna scoffed at that. ¡°I want what every girl my age wants: strong alcohol and a pair of firm buttocks to squeeze.¡±


    Birgitta burst out laughing. It didn¡¯t happen very often. The older woman patted her shoulder in a rare moment of camaraderie. ¡°I hear you lass. I hear you. But you¡¯re gonna have to toughen it out¡±


    Hanna sighed. Back in the woods by the swamp she had realized something. She absolutely loved battle. It wasn¡¯t about using weapons. Practicing the spear with Anders could be a proper snoozefest. What she loved was that moment where if you lived or not wasn¡¯t dependent on the mercy of your opponent. Where surviving meant being quick enough not to be gutted by a giant tusk before you returned the favour. She had barely had any time to experience it. A couple of times with the boars and that time with the pig-otter in the valley were not enough to quench her thirst. She wanted more of it. Staying cooped up in this bunker was not the way to get it. Plus, she wasn¡¯t exactly lying to Birgitta earlier. She really wanted a drink, and she had honestly spent way too much time in a Viking village without sampling the local talent.


    Birgitta didn¡¯t change her mind though, no matter how much Hanna pleaded. For a while she considered just leaving, but despite her recent improvements with the sword and spear, she didn¡¯t think much of her chances against a pissed-off Birgitta. So she did as she was told and toughened it out. Two days of constant work-outs and sparring went by before Gunnar swooped in like a godsend. Hanna had more or less forgotten it by now, but she had promised to spend time with him regularly, helping him improve the technology of the village. Birgitta tried to stop her from leaving at first, but Gunnar surprised her by giving the older woman a stern talking to. Apparently he wasn¡¯t all kindness and understanding. It was probably a question of finding the right motivation. Judging from the conversation they had as they walked back to the village, he was pretty eager to see her. He barely paused for air between his questions, and every explanation from her was instantly followed by more hows and whys. It reminded her of a kid with a parent, bursting with curiosity over seemingly trivial things.


    The first thing that struck her as they entered the village was that it looked a lot cleaner. Most of the mud that used to be ever-present was gone, replaced by somewhat neat cobblestone roads. The villagers seemed to have been hard at work in her absence, they had even managed to dig a shallow well close to the creek at the edge of the valley. It was lined with a layer of stone, and a small wall stuck up above ground, exactly as she had specified. On top of it was a small roof, protecting it from stuff that might fall into it. They had tied a rope to a bucket that they used to bring the water up. None of the villagers seemed to be using it though. It would probably take a while for old habits to change.


    The sawmill hadn¡¯t gotten as far. They had cleared an area and was laying the foundations, but the task of transferring the power of the water into the sawmill had proven too much for the local craftsman. They had at least chosen a good spot for the sawmill. It was maybe too close to the rest of the village, something that might cause numerous complaints of noise, but the creek ran particularly deep right next to it and they had even begun deepening it further and fortifying its sides.


    The one who was tasked with the machinery for the sawmill was a middle-aged woman on the shorter side, whom was too occupied with her tinkering to look up when Gunnar introduced her. Eventually she tossed away the cogwheel she was working on and came over to them, navigating the numerous piles of half-finished projects and various tools.


    ¡°So you¡¯re the freak¡± she said. Hanna narrowed her eyes at her, trying to judge if she was an asshole or just not very good with people.


    ¡°This is Hanna, or newest and much valued addition to our village¡±, Gunnar corrected the woman.


    ¡°Sure¡±, she said, making no attempt to smooth things over. ¡°I¡¯m Gunn by the way¡±.


    Hanna gave her a wave. ¡°Nice to meet you¡±. She didn¡¯t mean it.


    Gunnar quickly tried to make peace by asking her to show the current state of the machinery. The work was actually quite far along, the main problems was that they were unable to transfer the power of the water into the horizontal motion in the saw, and that the wood would get very hot as it spun in its fittings. Gunn gave Hanna a sceptical look when she proposed that they should use a round saw instead. She hadn¡¯t thought about it, but round saws were probably a completely bizarre thing if you only operated saws by hand. Gunn mellowed to the idea once Hanna had talked her through the concept, but claimed that it would be quite challenging to produce a saw that was flat enough.


    The heat problem could probably be avoided by using ball bearings, but that was for obvious reasons out of the picture. After some back and forth they decided to try layering both the rotating wood and it¡¯s fitting with metal, and generous amounts of animal fat in between. Gunn was exited to discuss the technicalities, but it was as if every idea or concept that Hanna explained to Gunn only worsened the woman¡¯s opinion of her. She probably didn¡¯t like being taught by a snotty kid, or maybe she just didn¡¯t enjoy others stealing her thunder.


    When the problems were dealt with and Gunnar wanted to move on, Hanna got an idea. Swords and spear might work close-up, but she really missed her rifle. She had no illusions of getting one, at least not in a long while. But the various pieces of ongoing projects that littered Gunn¡¯s workshop had brought a compromise to her mind. When Hanna asked Gunn if she had heard of a crossbow, she wasn¡¯t surprised by her negative answer. It didn¡¯t take her long to convince Gunn of its benefits compared to a bow, and the two of them were soon completely engrossed with drawing up the designs. Gunnar was quick to join them, and when he understood what the end goal was he was ecstatic enough that he was practically giggling.


    The day was pretty much gone when they eventually left the workshop. The crossbow that they had drawn up had a solid, wooden stock in a length comparable to her old rifle, and an absolutely huge piece of metal acting as the bow. Gunn had objected that it would be too heavy to pull, but that problem had been solved with a smart application of a lever that Gunnar had come up with. Gunn had continued her objections stating that it would still need a great amount of strength to operate it, but Hanna had quickly shut her up by casually lifting a nearby anvil. They still needed to figure out the triggering mechanism though, but the various concepts that Hanna had explained in an attempt to solve it made Gunn confident that she could figure it out on her own.


    All in all it had been a good day, even though Hanna still hadn¡¯t managed to make her way over to the alehouse. As luck would have it, Gunnar solved that problem for her once again, suggesting they celebrate their progress with some drinks. When they entered the dimly lit interiors of the alehouse, they immediately drew the attention of all the patrons. The lively atmosphere that had been there when they arrived quickly died down as people turned in their chairs to get a look at them. None of them looked happy to see her, and Hanna heard quite a few curses directed at her. This rock star status of her would be a lot easier to swallow if it only would bring some benefits. As it was now, people she had never met before practically spat upon seeing her.


    Ignoring the stares, they made their way over to a table. A few of the people surrounding their table moved elsewhere when they sat down. Hanna resolved to ignore it for the moment, but she was growing dead tired of the way she was treated by the villagers. Gunnar looked apologetic enough, but if the villagers¡¯ attitude didn¡¯t change soon she wasn¡¯t planning on sticking around.


    ¡°Don¡¯t judge them to harshly¡±, Gunnar said.


    ¡°Why not? They aren¡¯t exactly meeting me halfway¡±


    ¡°Outsiders in general only show up in order to kill and rob. And you have to admit that the way you appeared out of nowhere in the valley does nothing to help your case.¡±


    Hanna scoffed. ¡°That is small comfort when you are being spat at¡±.


    Gunnar nodded at her words. ¡°Just give them time to change. They¡¯ll come around¡±. He stood up. ¡°A drink might help?¡± He suggested.


    ¡°Better make it a double, old man!¡± She shouted after him when he was halfway over to the bar. Hanna didn¡¯t know what to do about the villagers¡¯ treatment of her. As it was now, conflict was more or less given every time she visited the village. She didn¡¯t care enough to launch some sort of good-publicity campaign, but if things stayed as they were she would have to look for some other place to call home. And the little she had seen since she woke up in the valley had made it painfully clear that a lot was different from what she would considered normal.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    It felt silly following that train of thought, which was the main reason she had avoided thinking about it too much. There really were only two explanations: either the world that she knew had changed beyond recognition, or she was no longer in the world that she grew up in. Both cases meant that she knew absolutely nothing of what to expect outside of the village¡¯s boarders. The prospect of striking out into that great unknown felt exiting, a chance at adventure that was completely unavailable in the civilized world that she had lived in before the gap. But leaving the village behind also completely removed the comforts and relative safety she had found here. A good night¡¯s sleep would be a lot rarer if you were striking out on your own in a wilderness capable of producing creatures like the pig-otter or the uniboars.


    Gunnar¡¯s return to her table brought her out of her musings. He was unsteadily balancing four large mugs, spilling a little with every step. She generously helped the old man by taking two of the mugs from him. Hanna was halfway through one of them before he had sat down again.


    Gunnar grabbed one of the mugs and held it up in the air. ¡°To gradual change!¡±


    Hanna¡¯s mug was still attached to her mouth, but she grunted in agreement.


    Her original plan had been to ditch the old man at first opportunity, but he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, so she felt rather bad about it. She kept an eye open in case Rune was around, but the alehouse was manned by the gruff man she had met at her last visit, and Rune was nowhere to be seen. A shame really, he was on the very top of her list of locals to sample. Hanna sighed. At least there was plenty to drink. Gunnar seemed to be in a splurging mood and kept the drinks coming. They had even gotten around to dinner when Birgitta strolled up to their table.


    ¡°Time¡¯s up kiddo.¡±


    ¡°Come join us Birgitta¡±, Gunnar offered cheerfully. He was well beyond tipsy.


    Birgitta gave him a disapproving look. ¡°I heard Karin was looking for you¡±


    Gunnar slumped down and breathed out heavily. ¡°Oh well. I guess it¡¯s getting rather late.¡±


    Birgitta snorted and turned towards Hanna. ¡°Were going back to the mountain. It¡¯s time for you to actually contribute for once¡±.


    The walk back to the bunker was peaceful enough. Hanna was a bit unsteady until the cool air and her kick-ass liver sobered her up. People they met still gave her odd looks, but as long as they didn¡¯t gather up with torches and pitchforks, she counted that as a win.


    When they finally got back to the lounge, which was what Hanna had dubbed the room with the fireplace and the tables, she was surprised to see that it was a bit more crowded than she was used to. Most of the faces felt familiar, probably from that one time that Birgitta introduced her to the Regulars, but Hanna wasn¡¯t certain. She had never been good with faces. Or names. Random Wikipedia articles though, that shit stuck like glue.


    ¡°You guys probably remember our most recent addition¡±, Birgitta said once she had the attention of the room. ¡°I¡¯ve thought her the sword for a bit, and she spent some time camping with Anders. She isn¡¯t entirely worthless, and I think it¡¯s high time we put her to the test!¡±


    Some of the guys in the room cheered. Anders wasn¡¯t there, but if he was he would have frowned at their light-hearted jolliness.


    ¡°You guys know the drill. We leave tomorrow at first light, and I want you packed, shat, and with a fucking spring in your step. Stragglers will be strangled.¡±


    Hanna chuckled. Birgitta shot her a murderous glare, instantly killing her mirth. Nobody left the room when Birgitta was finished. The mood had a meet-and-greet kind of vibe to it, with people standing around needlessly, trying to initiate eye-contact. It was reasonable that they were curious about the new member. Wanting to get to know her better was probably smart, at least since they would be heading out together tomorrow. Hanna just didn¡¯t feel very excited about it. She had been called self-centred once or twice in her life, and she wasn¡¯t delusional enough to deny that it probably held some merit. But the main problem was that interacting with people exhausted her, and in most cases the returns simply wasn¡¯t worth the costs. Hanna knew some great people, but most guys just wasn¡¯t very interesting.


    Her usual approach for getting to know people that didn¡¯t look interesting was to not force it. If it happened it happened, or it was their loss. That might not cut it this time. Hanna honestly had no clue what to expect of tomorrow, but she¡¯d be foolish if she didn¡¯t consider combat at least a remote possibility. And she would be an even bigger fool if she made that assumption and still couldn¡¯t be bothered to get to know the people who might save her ass if things went south.


    Mentally cracking her neck, she walked up to the ring four people that were eying her cautiously.


    ¡°Sup?¡±


    The group exchanged a few glances, so Hanna took her time to look them over. Two women, two men, all of them looking thirtyish and utterly generic. About the height you¡¯d expect for each gender and the same kind of brown hair that seemed to be the main colour in the village. They even wore the same kind of leather armour that Bj?rn and Olof had worn, probably something every combatant in the village had. Remembering their names was going to be impossible.


    ¡°Nice to finally meet you¡±, one of the women said. Hanna was trying really hard to give her a defining feature. If she squinted her eyes and exaggerated, the woman had slightly large front-teeth. Hanna couldn¡¯t afford to be picky. Miss Bucky Tooth it is.


    ¡°I¡¯m Eva¡±, Bucky Tooth said. Sure you are, Hanna thought and nodded.


    The guy next to her picked up the torch. ¡°My name is Karl¡±. Hanna turned a budding laugh into a smile, thinking of that undead show. Coral.


    ¡°I¡¯m Leif¡±, said the second guy and smiled like you do to the cashier when you wait for the card-machine to finish. Hanna couldn¡¯t think of a fitting nickname, so he was cashier-guy know. It honestly was the best she could do. This really wasn¡¯t her forte, but then again, not thinking of hurtful nicknames and instead actually focusing on the conversation might make things easier.


    ¡°And my name is Gudrun¡±, said the last woman. Hanna scanned her top to bottom, searching for anything easy to remember. No luck, name pending.


    ¡°So how long have you guys been with the Regulars?¡± Hanna asked.


    ¡°A few years¡±, Gudrun answered.


    ¡°We were the new guys until you came along¡±, Cashier-guy filled in and was instantly elbowed by Coral.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell her that!¡±


    ¡°Why not, man? I think it¡¯s pretty obvious that we aren¡¯t really cut from the same cloth as Birgitta or Anders.¡± Hanna agreed but didn¡¯t say it.


    ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t¡±, Coral said.


    Bucky put a hand on his shoulder and looked him sympathetically in the eye. ¡°Karl, you really aren¡¯t¡±. Ouch.


    Karl shrugged her arm off with a hurt look.


    ¡°So what do you know about tomorrow?¡± Hanna asked in an attempt to stop their bickering.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing special, a normal run really¡±, cashier-guy said.


    Gudrun frowned at him. ¡°You know very well what Birgitta thinks about that..:¡±


    ¡°Every run is special¡±, Coral cut in with a crude parody of Birgitta¡¯s voice. Gudrun groaned.


    ¡°We will head over to the ruins to barter a bit with the guys over there¡±, Bucky clarified.


    Hanna raised her eyebrows. It was the first time she had heard anything about other settlements than the village.


    ¡°Is it like a village over there or what?¡±


    ¡°Not really, no.¡± Bucky said.


    ¡°They are a weird bunch. They live underground in the ruins, trying to learn from what¡¯s left behind by the ancients¡±, cashier-guy clarified. ¡°Not very keen farmers¡±


    ¡°The ancients?¡± Hanna had to ask. Things were starting to sound like an episode of Stargate.


    The whole group gave her an odd look.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know about the ancients, love? The ones who built the many ruins around us?¡± Bucky asked with a pitying tone.


    Hanna scratched the back of her head. Apparently not everyone had heard of how she got here. That was probably good, she was considered weird enough as it was.


    ¡°Oh, you mean the Ancients!¡± No, I totally know about them.¡± She tried. It was unclear if the group bought her lie, but they just nodded and didn¡¯t press the matter. Hanna decided it was time to cut her losses.


    ¡°Well, it was fun meeting you, but I think I need to get to bed early. First run and all.¡±


    They wished her a good night and she retreated to her room. It was probably a good thing that she did. Her entire time in the army had been plagued by her tendency to skip out on item preparation. Hanna was quite sure that tendency of hers hadn¡¯t changed just because the rest of the world had.


    She did a quick inventory of her possessions, sorting them on her bed. A water skin, a thick blanket, some clothing, a whetstone that Anders gave her, some fire steel, a small hatchet, a tiny knife and her sword. She had her spear as well of course, but it was far too big to end up on the bed. Hanna stashed her bag the same way that she used to do in the army, items that you fetched often or that you fetched in a panic was put at the top. The rest could fit wherever.


    Her boots were fattened with obscene amounts of the same kind of animal fat that would soon lubricate the sawmill. They wouldn¡¯t be taking in water unless she waded through a lake or something. Hanna hadn¡¯t been particularly bothered by the weather so far, but she probably ought to get herself a proper jacket, or whatever equivalent they used around here. All in all, Hanna actually felt pretty prepared. She wouldn¡¯t mind having some armour or a shield, but then again, that¡¯s what supernatural healing was for, right?


    Since she woke up in the valley, Hanna had raked in new experiences, time and time again having to handle scenarios that simply wouldn¡¯t happen to your average first-world-citizen. Whether she felt prepared or not, tomorrow she would be heading far outside the village, something that might very well include a good deal of danger. In itself, that wouldn¡¯t be terrible different from fighting the uniboars with Anders. But the danger that she had experienced so far had largely happened to her, not because of her. Sure, she was the one who provoked the fights, not the uniboars, but they were aggressive, territorial monsters. Tomorrow she would head out with a group of trained warriors, and if the situation required it, people would expect of her to not hesitate before she skewered another human being.


    Hanna wasn¡¯t sure she was ready for that. She had always known that she wasn¡¯t very empathic, perhaps even bordering on some kind of psychopathic spectrum. How much she would be bothered by purposely harming another person was something she had thought about her whole life, simply because she feared the answer was ¡°not at all¡±.


    Hanna spent a large part of the night without sleep, her subconscious drifting from memory to memory, trying to find an answer to her fears. But this is something that no amount of speculation can bring certainty to. It is something that you simply cannot know, until you suddenly know. And not all answers in life are equal. Some answers have a profound impact, creating a former you, a future you, and then the answer, smack dab in the middle of the two.


    Chances were that tomorrow would simply be a casual stroll to another settlement. In case it wasn¡¯t, tomorrow would be a day of answers that Hanna didn¡¯t know if she was prepared to meet.

 Chapter 18 – Rock down to Electric Avenue

    It was a lovely morning, with a low sun and a slight nip in the air. A morning made for the sound of birdsong, not the sounds of human anatomy. Apparently, being in the Regulars also meant having a free pass at letting out gas among other people. Hanna was just thankful that they were finally out of that poorly ventilated bunker. It had been a long night of twisting and turning, needlessly mulling over things, churning over details in memories that were irrelevant years ago. Hanna and the bunch she met yesterday was waiting outside of the bunker.


    Despite the lack of sleep, she was feeling pretty swell. The past couple of weeks of hard workouts and gorging on food had done wonders for her body. She guessed that she had gained at least ten kilos of muscles compared to when she woke up in the valley. With how fast her body recovered from workouts it was practically cheating. They hadn¡¯t done any more tests of her strength but given how strong she had been in her previous paltry frame, Hanna was willing to bet that the gains were substantial. She felt like her body was brimming with power, ready to explode into action. Her backpack was on her back, and every available space in it was filled with rations that she had been given by a small mouse-like man that she hadn¡¯t met before. He was apparently the resident cook, but he disappeared much like a mouse before Hanna had the time to catch his name or butter him up for future food-related favours. Her sword and knife were on her hip and she carried her spear over her shoulder. It seemed petty, but Hanna couldn¡¯t help to feel a measure of pride when she saw the group from yesterday ogle it when they thought she wouldn¡¯t notice. Today would be a good day.


    ¡°Morning asshats!¡± Birgitta announced her arrival, making everyone present turn around. She looked lively despite her greeting. Next to her was a cart that by the looks of it was made to be pulled by a human. It was loaded full with sacks and barrels. Rune was the poor sod pulling it. He was heaving and was flushed red in his face, hair soaked by sweat. Hanna gave him a cheerful wave.


    ¡°Gudrun and Leif, you¡¯ll watch our rear. Karl, you will be with me at the front so that I can keep an eye on you. Rune will be joining us as usual, but I¡¯m demoting him from cart-duty. Otherwise we¡¯ll be waiting on him the whole trip.¡± Birgitta turned towards Hanna. ¡°That means that you get the cart, kid. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do better than young mister Noodle-arms here.¡±


    Hanna groaned. This day was going to suck.


    ¡°What about me?¡± Bucky asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re with Hanna, make sure she doesn¡¯t piss herself when things go south¡±.


    Bucky acknowledge the order with a thumbs-up.


    The way down the mountain first led them back through the village. As they made their way along the winding turns of the road, the people nearby cheered them on and it was a generally chirpy atmosphere. A teenage girl that they passed even threw Rune a blow kiss. It was a far cry from how Hanna was usually treated, and it only made Hanna more bitter about it. Still, she couldn¡¯t really complain. The cart weighed practically nothing, and planted square in the middle of her field of view was Rune¡¯s shapely backside, neatly bouncing up and down as he walked.


    It took about an hour until the ground began evening out. Behind them was the picturesque view of the village, cosily nestled up on the mountain. Seen from this perspective, it was easier to understand the village¡¯s xenophobia. They were so isolated and secure up on their mountain, that every visit from a stranger was bound to feel like an invasion of their personal space. Understanding was not the same as forgiving though. Hanna still considered them a bunch of paranoid bastards.


    As they slogged forward on the road, the creek-turned river eventually departed from the road. Except for the mountain, all that they could see was the road and the surrounding fields. Closer to the base of the mountain there had been a good deal of crops, but they were practically hugging the foot of the mountain, and they were soon left behind. Walking long distances had always been a slow way to pass the time, but the constant back-and-forth between the Regulars proved a pleasant distraction. Of course, Hanna took the time to chat with Rune, making sure he was on the same page when first opportunity presented itself. She had been a bit confused by him following along on the trip. It turned out it was the usual order of things. In Rune¡¯s own words, he was the shrewdest businessman on the mountain. Hanna thought back at his arm wrestling scheme. She wasn¡¯t sure if that supported his claim or not.


    ¡°Incoming¡±, Birgitta stated without any hurry. Hanna swivelled around in search of whatever it was that was coming. Far to the right she spotted a growing could of dust.


    ¡°On it!¡± Bucky called and climbed up on top of the cart. Hanna was still holding the cart so she let it down as gently as possible.


    ¡°The rest of you know the drill. Line up!¡±


    Hanna didn¡¯t know the drill.


    ¡°Move your ass Hanna!¡± Birgitta ordered as the rest of the group grabbed their spears and formed a line in front of the cart. Hanna grabbed her spear and mimicked the others. They had pushed the butt of their spears into the ground and were now doing a combination of holding their spears and pushing them down with their bodyweight. The cloud of dust got closer and Hanna squinted her eyes. The creature charging them looked like some kind of horned bovine. Squat and muscular, but not thick as if it was breed for meat.


    The thwack of a bowstring being released sounded behind Hanna, and an arrow sailed overhead. It struck the creature in its shoulder, not slowing it down in the slightest. Another arrow joined the first one and the bull stumbled. It didn¡¯t fall but it lost most of its momentum. A short moment went by where the whole group just watched the bull trying to catch its bearings.


    ¡°Hanna, you¡¯re up!¡± Birgitta snapped.


    ¡°Uh..¡± Hanna was not mentally prepared for this.


    ¡°Bring that fucker down!¡± Coral cheered.


    Hanna took a few tentative steps towards the bull. It was still approaching them, but its charge had died so it was basically trotting. It was close enough now that she could hear its laborious breathing. Blood was trickling from its wounds.


    Hanna gripped her spear tight and gathered her resolve. She could do this. Pushing hard against the ground with her feet, she ran towards the bull with as much momentum as she could muster. Her body brimmed with power. The bull seemed invigorated by her aggression and tried to increase its pace, head turned down, horns pointed squarely at Hanna. It was a lot bigger than her, if they collided she would be the one sent flying.


    That wasn¡¯t her plan though. She ran towards the bull at a slight angle. Her plan relied heavily on timing, but she could pull it off. Probably. With only meters between them, Hanna twisted in the air and rammed her spear has hard as she could into the bull, hitting it from its side.


    The spear sunk deep, and the weapon was ripped from her hands as the bull slid to a stop. It was probably lucky for her, otherwise she would have tagged along with it.


    Someone gave out an impressed whistle. Coral applauded her. Hanna took a moment to regain her bearings and then walked over to inspect her work. The bull lay dead just a few meters from the cart. The spear had impaled it deep enough that the tip was sticking out on the other side.


    ¡°Flashy¡±, Birgitta commented. It didn¡¯t sound like a compliment.


    ¡°It was awesome!¡± Coral injected as he walked over to Hanna and patted her shoulder.


    Hanna felt rather pleased with herself despite Birgitta¡¯s disapproval. Standing firm against the charge might have been a surer kill, but the bull probably had a couple of hundred kilos on the uniboars, and she had frankly had enough of being trampled.


    Hanna knelt by her kill to get a look at the animal. She wasn¡¯t a farmer, but as far as she knew it wasn¡¯t normal for bulls to charge people unprovoked. From just looking at the creature, it didn¡¯t seem to different from a normal cow. But then again, she wasn¡¯t a farmer.


    ¡°Aggressive fuckers.¡± Birgitta gave her expert opinion as she hunkered down next to Hanna. ¡°They attack everything in their territory that isn¡¯t their mate or spawn and they breed by the dozen. They are a pain to get rid of. The meat is delicious though.¡±


    ¡°How do you keep them docile?¡± Hanna asked.


    Birgitta looked at her as if she was mentally challenged. ¡°What part of what I just said made you think we keep them docile?¡±


    ¡°Well, I assumed that you would need to keep them calm and orderly in order to breed them¡­ Wait. You don¡¯t breed them?¡±


    Birgitta gave her a repeat of the previous look. Hanna was baffled. They were literally living next door to the perfect meat-factory without taking advantage of it. Sure, they¡¯d have to curb that aggression somewhat, but that¡¯s nothing a couple of generations of selective breeding couldn¡¯t handle. They might even make decent beasts of burden, Hanna figured. Then it hit her. They didn¡¯t have any animals for pulling carts and plows. That¡¯s why she got stuck on cart-duty. She was the fucking donkey.


    Hanna and the others laboriously wrangled the carcass on top of the cart. Birgitta stood by the side and gave helpful words of encouragement. Hanna couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit grumpy at being literally treated like an ass. The minute they got back to the village, Hanna was going to kick that fucking settlement into at least the thirteen-hundreds. Whether they want to or not, Hanna thought as she grabbed the handles and began pulling the cart again. In front of her, the dirt road stretched onwards.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    When the first part of the ruins they were heading to came into view there was a subtle change in the group¡¯s mood. The banter ceased, and Hanna noticed that even Coral kept his hands close to his weapons. They continued on without being disturbed until they were a fair bit into ruins. All around them were the overgrown remnants of buildings. Given their square shape and grid-like placement, Hanna got the feeling that they were walking in an old city, but everything was far to worn down for her to be certain.


    ¡°That¡¯s far enough folks!¡± Someone shouted. It sounded like a young man, likely hidden in one of the nearby ruins. ¡°We¡¯ve got you in our sights, so no sudden movements!¡±


    ¡°Kick it down a notch Bengt, you know very well who we are!¡± Birgitta growled. ¡°And don¡¯t think I can¡¯t see you messy red hair sticking up over the wall¡±.


    Hanna looked around. She didn¡¯t see shit until the youthful face of a redheaded teenager slowly peeked over a nearby wall. He couldn¡¯t have been more than fifteen.


    ¡°I have to check, it¡¯s my job!¡± Bengt insisted.


    ¡°Do you want to starve to death, or are you going to let us in?¡±


    The teenager didn¡¯t answer, but Hanna could hear him making his way down to them.


    ¡°This way¡±, he said as he stepped out from around a corner. He was armed with a bow and a small knife, and he waved them over without any further discussion.


    He led them through the twisting ruins. With how worn down everything was, Hanna quickly lost track of the way they had taken. Eventually they came in front of a large metal gate, and the boy walked over and grabbed a string that were hanging out off a hole in the wall. He expertly pulled it in a complicated pattern, each pull causing a bell to ring. Soon after, the gate began moving with a small rumble.


    Behind the gate, the ground was gently sloping downwards, and Hanna was surprised to see that it was covered by intact and smooth concrete. It looked like the entry to an underground garage. On all sides they were surrounded by the matte finish of concrete, and the tunnel twisted inwards like a spiral. They followed it in silence, the sound of their steps echoing between the walls. A full revulsion down there was a wooden alcove cut into the wall, with another metal gate square in the middle. Bengt fished out a key on a neckless from under his shirt, and after a short moment of fumbling with the lock the door swung open. Inside was a larger room, some kind of antechamber by the looks of it. It was rather cosy, with paintings on the walls, a sofa and a few stuffed chairs. The cosiness was decreased somewhat by the couple of armed guards that eyed them suspiciously. They were surrounding a woman with enough commanding presence to make it obvious that she was the one in charge.


    ¡°Elsa.¡± It wasn¡¯t the warmest greeting. Coming from Birgitta it was pretty standard.


    ¡°Nice to see you again Birgitta¡±, the woman answered. She didn¡¯t sound very enthusiastic. Birgitta walked over to the woman, ignoring the minute movements of the guards as they gripped the hilts of their swords. The two of them chatted for a while, but Hanna was too distracted to pay any attention to what they were saying. Something had been nagging in her mind ever since they entered the tunnel. She had been unable to place it until she noticed the small wall-mounted lamps than illuminated the room. Electricity. Honest to god, actual and proper electric lighting. It must have been how the tunnel was lit, they hadn¡¯t carried any torches. It was jarring really, to simultaneously feel that electric lights were too normal to think about, yet exotic to the point that it sent her mind reeling.


    What was worse was the implications of it. Hanna did a quick mental tally of what she knew about this world. Things that was weird: the fucking mental creatures, her own body, the technologically impaired villagers and the physics of the swamp. Things that was normal but weird in their context: the bunker in the mountain and the electric lights in what was probably an old underground garage. Adding all of this up meant¡­ absolutely nothing, Hanna realised with a dejected sigh.


    It could mean that something had happened to the world she knew, collapsing civilisation and changing the flora and fauna. But it could just as well mean that she was in a different world, where the weird creatures were normal and the signs of ancient civilization was what was weird. The first explanation meant that she had somehow been sent through time, and the second meant that she had somehow been sent to another world. Was it more bizarre to travel through time or to travel between dimensions? Both options were completely unreasonable sci-fi material in Hanna¡¯s opinion, and she couldn¡¯t readily accept either of the them as plausible.


    Still, they obviously had some semblance of technology here and she¡¯d be damned if she didn¡¯t milk them for as much of it as possible. She elbowed Coral that stood closest to her.


    ¡°How come you guys don¡¯t have electricity when they have it?¡± She asked and pointed towards the lamps.


    ¡°What? You mean their magic lights?¡±


    Ugh. ¡°It¡¯s not magic you moron. It¡¯s just electrons passing through a metal wire¡±


    ¡°What!¡± The woman in charge was alarmed and hurried over. ¡°Do you know about electricity?¡± Elsa grabbed her arm with a manic look.


    ¡°Sure¡­¡± Hanna said, taken back by the woman¡¯s intensity.


    ¡°You must tell me everything!¡± Elsa said and tried pulling her along without waiting for an answer. Hanna wasn¡¯t of the same skeletal frame that she had been when she woke up in the valley. She didn¡¯t move an inch.


    ¡°Hold on¡±, Birgitta interjected and put a firm hand on Hanna¡¯s other arm.


    ¡°Come on now, Birgitta. This is huge!¡± Elsa tried.


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you can¡¯t talk to her. I¡¯m saying you can¡¯t do it for free.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Hanna shouted and pushed the two of them away. She wasn¡¯t a thing to be bartered with, and she definitely wasn¡¯t the reward in a fucking tug-o-war. Everything was calm for a second as the two leaders sailed through the air. Then all hell broke loose when they hit the walls of the room with two heavy thuds.


    People screamed all around her, making it impossible to make sense of what they were trying to convey. One of the guards threw himself on Hanna, trying to pin her down. The sound of metal striking metal told her that someone was fighting. The guard on top of her tried to force her into an armlock. Not happening buddy, Hanna thought and tossed him away. He flew like a ragdoll.


    She got to her feet. Gudrun, Bucky and cashier-guy were fighting the guards, sword to sword. Coral was looking around, indecisive and useless. Rune was stringing Bucky¡¯s bow while Bengt did his best to stop it. Birgitta was on her way up. Elsa was still laying prone on the ground.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± Birgitta bellowed, the authority of her voice making everyone halt in their movements.


    ¡°Coral, stop spinning around you useless twat! The rest of you, stand the fuck down!¡± The Regulars hesitantly followed Birgitta¡¯s order, stepping back a pace from their opponents. The three standing guards eventually did the same. One of them put his weapon away and hurried over to help his boss. A short while later she was standing with his support. The mood was tense.


    ¡°Uh, I didn¡¯t mean to push quite that hard¡±, Hanna tried. Birgitta glared at Hanna, making her unsure if she meant it as ¡°Stop talking¡± or ¡°Don¡¯t do it again¡±.


    Elsa looked shaken. ¡°It was an accident, no harm done¡±, she said with an unsteady voice. ¡°Is anyone injured?¡±


    That took the last of the hostility out of the room and the two groups checked on their members. Cashier-guy was bleeding from a shallow cut on his arm but the rest of the Regulars were unharmed. The guy that had tried wrestling Hanna was a bit sore but without anything broken. Hanna thought it a bit odd to try to continue with their previous business after what had happened, but Elsa seemed really eager to smooth things over. Apparently they needed the food that they were bringing, and Birgitta was rather keen to get the steel that they usually received in return. Beer was brought out, probably to help break the ice. Someone who Hanna guessed was Rune¡¯s counterpart came out, and the two of the begun hammering out the details of the trade.


    The rest of the Regulars were standing to the side, trying to pass the time. Hanna avoided the chit-chat as much as she could. She had never been very fond of it, and she needed some time to herself. She had no qualms about breaking up their tug-o-war as she did, but she was once again reminded that she was no longer a normal human. An average person could shove people away in rage. She couldn¡¯t do that, at least not if she expected them to survive the fall. Constantly keeping herself under perfect control wasn¡¯t really an option, but avoiding contact with people for fear of hurting them wasn¡¯t one either.


    ¡°Sorry for being so abrupt earlier¡±, Elsa said. Hanna hadn¡¯t seen her walk over.


    ¡°Yeah, sorry I tossed you away like that¡±


    ¡°Think nothing of it!¡± Elsa waved her apology away. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind, I would love to hear more about what you know¡±. She obviously tried being more casual about it, but her thirst for knowledge was evident.


    Hanna shot a look towards Birgitta. The woman gave her a short nod in return. ¡°We could talk for a bit. But we would need something in return¡±. Hanna had never been a great haggler, but what the heck. She could probably wing it.


    ¡°One of your guys, three months at our disposal¡± Birgitta butted in.


    Elsa acted bothered by the terms. ¡°That¡¯s a bit much, don¡¯t you think? She might not even know anything substantial.¡±


    ¡°Four months¡±, Birgitta countered, hiking the price up. ¡°And I promise you, Hanna knows plenty¡±.


    Elsa continued her acting, taping her cheekbone as if she wasn¡¯t sure about the terms. Hanna was bothered to once again be treated like a commodity, but she needed some answers about what had happened to the world. These guys probably didn¡¯t know shit about it, but they must have gotten their technology from somewhere. There was a clue around here, Hanna was sure of it. So she decided to sweeten the deal.


    ¡°Engine¡± Hanna said, making Elsa¡¯s eyes open wide.


    ¡°Generator¡±, she added. Elsa flared her nostrils.


    ¡°Magnetic field¡±.


    Elsa lost her composure. ¡°Deal!¡± She said, almost shouting. Hook, line and sinker, Hanna thought and chuckled.


    Elsa and Birgitta argued the details for a while after. They were done at about the same time as Rune had closed the original deal. What they had agreed upon was that they would return some time later for a longer stay, and then Hanna would be available for a long and extensive discussion about whatever might strike their fancy. On the condition that it was a fruitful session, they¡¯d be accompanied back by someone from Elsa¡¯s group. Apart from the steel that the Regulars came here for, the most valued thing Elsa¡¯s group had to offer was their technological expertise which apparently was miles ahead of the surrounding villages¡¯. Hanna couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought of Gunn having yet another wiz-kid to compete against. In Hanna¡¯s opinion it seemed unfair that a discussion with her was wort several months¡¯ time with one of their experts, but given Elsa¡¯s reaction to it, knowledge about electricity probably wasn¡¯t common.


    With everything they came here for wrapped up and all goods exchanged, the Regulars soon departed the garage with Bengt in tow. The day was gone and they¡¯d have to stop for the night before they could return to the village. They walked for about an hour at a good pace, leaving the ruins and Bengt well behind them. The return trip usually was a good deal slower when they were loaded up with solid bars of steel, but to no one¡¯s surprise that was alleviated by the heavy-duty donkey that they had brought with them this time.


    When they set up camp for the night they put it up by the very side of the road. The soldier in Hanna protested and wanted them to walk off the road and find some location where they weren¡¯t as visible. But the only thing around them were the flat and empty field and it would do them no good to leave the road. Plus that the cart would be a bastard to pull in the uneven terrain. Birgitta arranged a schedule for the guard, and of course Hanna got the shittiest slot. Late enough that she couldn¡¯t stay up, but early enough that she wouldn¡¯t get any solid sleep before it was her turn. Dinner was the usual fair of boar-jerky, which Hanna chewed silently on while she listened to Coral lying about his performance at the fight earlier. Eventually she snuggled up in the thick blanket she had gotten from Bj?rn or Olof way back. Its fat wool did a good job of keeping the chill out, and in its warmth she slowly dozed off, dreaming of light-bulbs and rifle toting Vikings.

 Chapter 19 – Fight in the night

    ¡°Wake up!¡±


    Hanna blinked. Cashier-guy was screaming. Why was he screaming?


    A boot in her side brought the sleep out of Hanna. She needed to get her shit together. Lucky for her she hadn¡¯t undressed before she went to bed. But her boots were off. Where were her boots?


    ¡°We are under attack!¡±


    Her boots were under the blanket. You can¡¯t fight without your boots. The army had taught her that. Where was her sword?


    An arrow buried itself in the ground next to her. Someone screamed in pain.


    ¡°Archers!¡± Birgitta screamed. ¡°Take cover!¡±


    Hanna found her sword and dived behind the cart, hoping that she ended up on the side that wasn¡¯t exposed to the enemy. Birgitta came a second later, dragging Rune with her. He had an arrow in his thigh.


    Someone shot back from their side, possibly Bucky.


    ¡°I think I got him¡±, she said tentatively. No more arrows landed among them. She was probably right.


    Hanna stuck her head out of cover. It was dark as hell. A bunch of guys were running towards them, maybe ten or so. Bucky or whoever it was fired another arrow, dropping one of the approaching figures. Birgitta gave Rune a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she darted around the cart. ¡°On me guys!¡± Birgitta order. ¡°Eva, keep shooting¡±. Who the fuck was Eva?


    ¡°They have no archers left.¡± Birgitta observed. ¡°Let them come to us¡±.


    Hanna didn¡¯t answer. It was not as if they had much choice anyway, they¡¯d be upon them any second. Hanna counted eight people running towards them. All of them had shields, which they used diligently now. Bucky hadn¡¯t managed to score any more kills. Eight people. With Rune out of the fight, that meant there were two of them for every member of the Regulars. That was some shitty odds. And this was Hanna¡¯s first fight.


    Their attackers seemed to have done the same kind of math, at least their commander had. A few shouts from the tallest of them and they neatly paired up against each of the Regulars. Hanna wished she had a shield. Fighting two people at once was going to be a pain. It wasn¡¯t anything she had practiced¡­ Wait, yes she had, just not since before the valley. What did her close-combat instructor say in the army? The more aggressive party is the one who wins. Oh, and also: if fighting against many, try to keep one of them between the rest as defence. Okay.


    Hanna tried to channel her inner Hulk. Her share of the opponents was here now. Two guys, one in the late teens with a sword, and another in his twenties with an axe. Hanna circled them, putting the teen between her and the other guy. He seemed the easier target. The two of them couldn¡¯t have practiced together a lot. The older one got annoyed and tried to reposition himself. Hanna kept circling, praying that no-one struck her from behind. Now or never, Hanna thought and rushed the young guy.


    She thrust with her sword, not really expecting it to connect. The teenager looked startled and only barely blocked. Hanna grinned as her boot connected with his ribcage, her real goal once his sword was out of the way. She kicked as hard as she could, and she felt something give. Probably his ribs. It felt disgusting, but it did the job. The teenager flew back, straight into his older friend.


    Hanna regained her balance as fast as she could. The older guy had fallen to the ground, the teenager laying nearby. If she hurried, she could finish the older guy before he got up. But was she the kind of person who stabbed people who currently couldn¡¯t harm her? She¡¯d be a moron if she didn¡¯t. He would be up in an instant, ready to harm her or the others. The seconds ticked by and he was trying to stand up. Hanna cursed her indecisiveness and kicked him in the head. She was careful to hold back. The blow brought the man back to the ground. He looked unconscious.


    With her opponents dealt with, Hanna spun around, trying to get a read on the battle. Coral was down. Two more of the opponents were on the ground. Given their proximity to Birgitta, Hanna guessed that the two that Birgitta was fighting at the moment were the ones that had fought Coral. Cashier-guy was struggling against his two enemies. One of them had an arrow in his arm. The other was their leader, the tall one. Hanna used her moment of respite to untangle a shield from one of her opponents. It was triangular, a bit larger and heavier than the shield she had trained with. Hanna didn¡¯t mind the weight.


    Emboldened by her new equipment and her success in the recent fight, Hanna jumped in to help Cashier-guy. Leif, Hanna reminded herself. She swung her sword toward the leader¡¯s neck. He must have seen her coming, because he effortlessly turned around and dodged her strike. Their eyes met. He was just as shocked as she was.


    Gissa!


    Hanna felt lightheaded. She couldn¡¯t believe her eyes. Josef Gissa. He¡¯d been a team leader like her, in the platoon next to hers. He had been there the night when everything changed, probably just a couple of hundred meters away. He was a fucking bastard, Hanna had loathed him since day one. And now she desperately wanted to talk to him. Funny how things can change just because the world ended. Josef seemed to be in a similar conundrum, studying her with furrowed brows.


    Someone screamed. A quick glance told Hanna that Birgitta had taken another one down. That left three more, Josef included. He noticed as well and must have realized that their numbers were dwindling. Before Hanna could intervene, he tackled Cashier-guy, grabbed his opponent and called for the last guy to join them. They fled the scene, chased by a few arrows from Bucky.


    Hanna set after them but Birgitta reined her in. Several of the Regulars were wounded, even Birgitta had a few cuts on her.


    ¡°Everyone okay?¡± Birgitta asked.


    Cashier-guy was bleeding heavily from his side. Rune limped out from behind the cart, supported by Bucky. He looked pale but far from death. Hanna checked on Coral, remembering that he had fallen to the ground. He was dead, a deep cut in his throat the obvious reason.


    ¡°Karl is dead¡±, Hanna reported, relieved that she had at least used his proper name.


    ¡°Gudrun too¡±, Cashier-guy said with a voice full of grief. Hanna was shocked. She hadn¡¯t noticed during the fight. Gudrun was laying in the remnants of their camp, an arrow sticking out of her chest.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°I woke up by her falling on me. She was probably awake when they came¡±, Cashier-guy said, trying to sort the events out. Bucky came over and hugged him.


    ¡°Well, this fucking sucks¡± Birgitta concluded. ¡°Patch each other up, then we return to the village and try to sort this mess out.¡± She had a tired voice.


    Bucky ripped strips of clothing from the dead and used that to cover up cashier-guys wound. Hanna set out to do the same with Rune, but then she remembered that he had an arrow lodged in his leg. It was probably best to leave that to someone else. Instead she ransacked the enemies for anything useful. She was quite happy with the shield she had pilfered earlier. It had a good size for her and seemed solid enough. It was made of wood but had a metal frame, a definite step up from the shields she had used during practice. It was utterly bizarre to search the pockets of the recently dead. Prior to this, Hanna¡¯s only experience with dead people was the open caskets of dead relatives. But they didn¡¯t need their stuff and Hanna wasn¡¯t exactly flush with cash.


    Hanna¡¯s rummaging netted her a few coins, but nothing particularly interesting. All of the weapons were poorly maintained and in no way an improvement to her current gear. One of the guys that Birgitta fought had a helmet that might be of use, but it was uncomfortable to wear with her hair tied up. She couldn¡¯t very well let it hang loose, that was bound to be a problem during fights. Either she cut her hair, or she entered fights without headwear just for vanity. Neither option appealed to her. Pushing the decision for later, she bagged the helmet and moved on to the remaining bodies. The only ones left were those she had fought.


    When she bent down to loot them she was startled by the ragged breathing of the one she had kicked. Right, I was to squeamish to finish this, Hanna recalled.


    ¡°Uh, Birgitta. What do we do if they are still alive?¡±


    Birgitta hurried over with an interested look. She briskly examined the two that Hanna had fought.


    ¡°Did you kick this one?¡± She asked and pointed towards the teenager.


    ¡°Yeah, how did you know?¡±


    ¡°Your fucking boot-print is visible on his chest. It¡¯s a miracle that he is still breathing.¡± Birgitta scratched the back of her head for a moment.


    ¡°Alright. Tie their hands and load them on the cart¡±


    Hanna fired off a salute and did as she was told. She didn¡¯t have any rope on hand, but it turned out that rope was what most of their enemies used as belts, so that was easily sorted. When she got to the cart with the first guy hoisted over her shoulder, she found that Gudrun and Karl had been carefully laid there. Someone had put a blanket under them. It was a gesture that was utterly useless since they would hardly be bothered by a lack of cushioning, but it was still a nice thing to do. It felt wrong and macabre to see them laying on top of the cart. Just a day ago they had placed a dead bull there. That had been a small thing, something you forgot after it was done. And now two people lay dead there. Hanna wasn¡¯t too bothered by their death, she wasn¡¯t sentimental enough for it. But intellectually she recognised the tragedy of it, and there were probably quite a few in the village who would be devasted by the news.


    Hanna put the teenager on the cart, trying to be as respectful as possible. The cart wasn¡¯t that big, so no matter how much she tried, their captives would still be more or less stacked upon the bodies.


    ¡°What do we do with the rest?¡± Hanna asked and gestured towards their dead enemies. ¡°Do we burry them?¡±


    Birgitta seemed confused. ¡°What, in the ground?¡±


    Hanna was getting tired of the cultural differences. One day she would have to make a list of things they didn¡¯t do here.


    ¡°Leave them. Let the crows feast¡±.


    Hanna smiled. Sometimes Birgitta sounded like she came straight from an episode of Vikings.


    The trip back to the village was a sombre affair. No-one spoke much. If Coral was alive, he would have been bragging about his performance in the fight. But he wasn¡¯t, and the silence rang in Hanna¡¯s ears. Cashier-guy was sobbing quietly. He had tried walking at first, but the wound got irritated by his movements, so he soon joined Rune on the little space of the cart that wasn¡¯t covered by bodies. Hanna felt like a god-damned school bus as she pulled the cart. At least the weather was nice.


    When they got back to the village they were first met with the same cheers that had followed them as they left. Once people noticed the pile of bodies, that quickly died down. They were still closely followed, but it was with worried murmuring and morbid curiosity rather than joyful pride. Their procession came to a halt outside a house that Hanna needed a moment to recognize. She had been here before. It was the house where she had first met Karin and Gunnar.


    Figuring they wouldn¡¯t be traveling any further, Hanna gently lowered the handles of the cart. She stretched. The lack of mud had been an improvement, but the villager¡¯s attempt at a cobblestone road was a far cry from the smooth roads she was used to. Wheels were meant to roll, not bump. Bucky helped Rune and Cashier-guy down from the cart. Both were rather stiff and had trouble getting off. Hopefully it was from sitting still too long and not from blood loss.


    ¡°Oi!¡± Birgitta called. She was classy as always.


    Karin exited the building. It was easy to follow her journey as her eyes darted all over them, taking in every detail.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a minute. First I need my guys patched up properly¡±.


    Karin looked them over once again, her eyes lingering on the dead bodies. ¡°Of course¡±, she said and then turned towards the onlookers. ¡°Could someone help them over to the healer?¡± She didn¡¯t have to wait for a response, many eager hands came over and more or less carried Rune and Cashier-guy away.


    ¡°Now, I need you to tell me what has happened¡±, Karin said with a stern voice. Birgitta looked like she for once wasn¡¯t in charge. She cleared her throat and began, starting from their arrival at Elsa¡¯s place and ending with a summary of their casualties. Karin seemed very much affected by the deaths of her villagers. It had a peculiar way of showing. She didn¡¯t look sad or hurt, just deeply furious, almost shaking with anger.


    ¡°Who was it that attacked you?¡± Karin said, sounding like the parent of a bullied child, just ridiculously blown out of proportion.


    Birgitta shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll know soon enough. As I said: Hanna was to spineless to finish things, so we have two of them bound in the cart. One of them might still be unconscious, but the other have been playing possum for a while. If he¡¯s smart enough to do that, he probably isn¡¯t dumb enough to refuse me answers¡±


    Hanna winced at Birgitta¡¯s logic and was a bit worried by the hinted possibility of torture. It probably made sense, asking nicely could only get you so far. In an uncivilized world like this one, the right answer might affect a lot of people. Hanna still wasn¡¯t too keen on indirectly subjecting someone to torture. She was happy with the way she viewed herself. She wasn¡¯t overly emphatic, sure. But in the large of things she did more good than bad. If she began assisting Birgitta with ripping out finger nails, she wasn¡¯t sure if she could keep thinking of herself as a force of good.


    ¡°Hanna!¡± Hanna turned absentmindedly towards Birgitta, who looked like she had been left waiting for a while.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Stop zoning out and fucking bring us the guy whose ribs you ruined.¡±


    Geez. Hanna complied and returned a minute later with the teenager in her arms. She had first put him on her shoulder like before, but that just made him scream like a two-year old the first time they met Santa. At least now they knew he wasn¡¯t unconscious.


    ¡°Take him inside¡±, Karin instructed. ¡°This might not be pretty¡±.


    Hanna joined Karin and went inside. Birgitta lingered for a while, making sure that the crowd dispersed and that the cart was taken care of. Since Bucky was the only non-injured member left outside, she ended up pulling the cart over to Bj?rn¡¯s place. She didn¡¯t find the load quite as easy to pull as Hanna did.


    Once done, Birgitta slammed the door shut and joined Hanna and Karin in the dimly lit interior of the house. At Karins instruction, Hanna had placed the teenager in a chair, where he sat looking glum. Karin gave Birgitta a short nod, giving her the lead.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know how this goes, kid.¡± Birgitta said, lifting his chin up so that she could look him in the eyes. They were broken and defeated, as if he didn¡¯t have much left that she could take away.


    The boy snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll talk¡±, he said. His voice was slow and apathetic. It sounded to Hanna as if he talked not out of fear for torture, he just didn¡¯t care anymore.


    ¡°How about we start with some names?¡±


    The boy chuckled humourlessly. ¡°My name is Tor. I¡¯m with the Wolves.¡±

 Chapter 20 – The best defence is Tower Defence

    Birgitta sighed. Tor¡¯s story was a sad one, but it wasn¡¯t particularly rare. The Wolves were well known in the region, and before they arrived there had been plenty of other groups of the same calibre. It was only logical. The lack of law and security created opportunities for the strong to take from the weak. And where there was opportunity, there was always someone who was willing to try their chances. What was worrying was that the Wolves seemed to be expanding their territory, drawing dangerously close to the village.


    If the boy was to be trusted, the Wolves had finally given up on preying on the small settlements that dotted the surrounding landscape, moving on to the more challenging but juicier targets like the village. Tor had only been a member of one of the Wolves lower-ranking bands of marauders. They were a fragmented organization and it was possible that the band he was from had been acting independently when they began targeting bigger villages. It was a tempting analysis that drastically decreased the danger they were facing. It was also an analysis they couldn¡¯t afford to make. If the band wasn¡¯t acting on its own, if this was part of a bigger decision coming from the top, then the village could very well be invaded.


    In either case, action needed to be taken. Birgitta had to prepare the village for an attack, with all that entailed. Training the villagers, stocking up on arrows, building fortifications¡­ It was a lot, and it needed to be done as soon as possible. She also had to prepare for the long-term storage of their two Wolves. They would probably end up in the holding cells, which meant that they would need to find a new place to store the few rowdy villagers that occasionally occupied it. She also needed to interrogate the other captive once he woke up. Hanna claimed she held back when she had kicked him. Judging from the fact that he still was out cold, she had done a so-so job of it. First things first though. She needed a fucking drink.


    Birgitta put her feet on the table, glad to finally get off her feet. She had been through a lot, but fights such as the last one was out of the ordinary. Like always the death of her subordinates stung. They were her responsibility, and they were dead because she hadn¡¯t prepared them enough. At least Hanna had pulled through. If she could just toughen the lass up a bit, she might turn her into a proper fighter. The village had far too few of those. Birgitta chuckled as she remembered the boot-print on Tor¡¯s chest. That¡¯s the kind of mark she expected her students to leave after them when they fought.


    J?rgen shuffled over with her ale, his bald head as eye-catching as always. Rune was alright to look at, but Birgitta preferred a man with some meat on him. There had always been a spark between her and J?rgen, but the fucker went and married before anything could happen, and that was the end of that. A shame really, she thought as she studied his muscular backside. Birgitta took a deep swing at the ale. Bj?rn was probably open for a rumble tonight. Gods knew she needed some kind of distraction.


    Hanna sat down in front of her, interrupting her pleasant fantasising. That girl had an awful feel for timing.


    ¡°We need to talk¡± Hanna said. Birgitta took another swig.


    ¡°Josef, the one who led the attack. He¡¯s like me.¡±


    ¡°What, sassy and annoying?¡±


    The girl didn¡¯t even roll her eyes. Birgitta was intrigued.


    ¡°I know him from before I got here¡± Hanna began.


    The details that Birgitta knew of Hanna¡¯s past were sparse. This was as good a time as any to get all cards on the table. The girl was steadily growing into a central part of the village. It was high time that they ironed out the mystery of her arrival in the valley. Hanna began her story with a description of the army she had been in. It was hard to believe that the girl had been a soldier. All soldiers Birgitta knew was made of sterner stuff than the lass was. At least if you considered how she was when she first showed up. She had improved quite drastically in the last couple of weeks.


    A lot of the things Hanna described was alien to the point that Birgitta couldn¡¯t grasp it. She claimed she had been in charge of a team soldiers, organisationally placed in something related to helicopters, whatever that was. The girl describing it as a ¡°flying cart¡± didn¡¯t do much to help. Imagination could only take you so far. Weirder still, this army she was in fought without swords or bows, instead shooting small metal projectiles and grenade launchers, which Birgitta interpreted as ¡°small things that travelled far and then exploded¡±. The point she took out of it was that Hanna sat on a wealth of foreign concepts, that could be used to wage war in ways no-one was ready to deal with. And this Josef guy knew this as well.


    That was dire news. The way she described Josef did not paint a pretty picture. Rash and arrogant, ambitious and with contempt for weakness. Unbothered by the damage he did onto others and often taking delight in his ability to manipulate his surroundings. If he also was from this different world, they¡¯d be foolish if they didn¡¯t assume that he too had Hanna¡¯s disproportionate strength and her ungodly ability to heal. Such abilities combined with his sort of personality was a storm waiting to happen in the kind of organisation that the Wolves was. Josef would undoubtedly shoot through their ranks. Hanna was certain he had recognized her. The girl didn¡¯t know how she ended up here and was hoping that this Josef might have some answers. Josef was probably of a similar mind. Adding things up, it wasn¡¯t a question of if, but rather when Josef came knocking on their door. Given his resent loss, the boy would undoubtedly come prepared this time.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been kind of just sitting on my hands since I got here¡±, Hanna said. ¡°I think it¡¯s time I step up¡±


    ¡°What do you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°Well, I could probably help with organizing the defence..:¡±


    Birgitta guffawed. ¡°You might know a bit about your kind of warfare, but we don¡¯t have any¡­ What did you call them?¡±


    ¡°Grenades?¡±


    ¡°Right. We don¡¯t have those. What do you know about battles that I don¡¯t?¡±


    Hanna smiled and cracked her knuckles. ¡°Let me tell you a little about a thing called video games¡±.


    Birgitta was amazed. The girl had more experience of warfare than any fighter she had met. It felt utterly wrong that for every scenario Birgitta came up with, the girl instantly had a reasonable counter. The worst part was that this unfathomable knowledge wasn¡¯t hard earned, but learned for fun, something you did after a hard day¡¯s work. It was disgusting. That aside, Birgitta was almost looking forward to the attack. If they could manage half of the ideas Hanna mentioned, no-one would dare to disturb them again.


    Hanna¡¯s throat was sore from all the talking. It felt good to drop some of her secrecy. There really wasn¡¯t any reason for it anymore. Unless she left them right now, her fate was tied to the village. At least until the impending attack was over. Perhaps she ought to open up to the rest of the villagers. All the speculation regarding her and where she came from certainly wasn¡¯t doing her any good. Hanna had tried to keep somewhat mum until now, out of fear that her alien heritage would cause the villagers to shun her. That had worked out great.


    Hanna didn¡¯t doubt for a second that Josef was coming. Even if he didn¡¯t know shit about how they ended up in this world, she still wanted to talk to him. He was the last remnant of a world that she would probably never see again, and that meant something. Connected them. On the odd chance that he didn¡¯t feel the same, he would come either way. The knowledge they possessed unavoidably changed their surroundings, and she knew him well enough to know that he would never accept the indirect threat that posed to him. With her out of the way, he would be able to do with this world as he pleased. It was just a question of time. How long would it take for him to have bombs? Rifles? He might be focused on more violent fields, but just the economic might that could be made from their knowledge was a force to be reckoned with. This world hadn¡¯t even gone through an industrial revolution. The concept of specialization alone would be ground-breaking.


    Hanna took a deep breath. It was high time she pulled her thumb out of her ass and became a good deal more proactive. The village might not know it yet, but they absolutely needed her. And she needed the village, at least if she wanted to stay alive for a while longer. It would be a day of much talking. She had already spewed out more words at Birgitta than she cared for, now she needed to do the same with Gunnar. Birgitta had listened attentively enough, the only problem was that she was a doer, an A-grade ass-kicker, and that was all she was. She was not a tinkerer or an organiser, she was the one who got shit done once that was taken care of. Both kinds were necessary, but right know they needed someone like Gunnar, who¡¯d take notes and then start dividing out tasks, finding the people who would make the idea grow on its own.


    Hanna spent about half an hour looking for Gunnar until she found him bothering Gunn, who by the way did not take kindly to Hanna¡¯s visit, closing shop at the first sight of her. Unbothered by Gunn¡¯s rudeness, Hanna hooked arms with the old man and told him a rerun of what Birgitta had gotten, all the while leading him through the village so she could explain her plans for the actual locations. They didn¡¯t get far until Gunnar demanded that they stop by his study so that he could fetch some pen and paper. It was probably a good thing, because Hanna felt like she was on fire. The village was a strategist¡¯s dream, and the funky semi-communism of theirs meant that she didn¡¯t have to worry about money. Someone else probably would, and then Karin or Gunnar would decide that the communal need for a wall was greater that the communal need for Ale, and then those resources would be transferred to the wall instead. Neat, undemocratic, probably impossibly problematic in a larger economy, but at the moment a rather agreeable solution. It left Hanna free to focus on the continued survival of the village.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    The village had a very haphazard layout. Buildings had been added over the ages as was needed. It gave it an organic feel. It also made it horribly inefficient and hard to defend. That was going to change though. Hanna¡¯s main goal was to make the village into a stronghold, something that would be very hard to conquer. At its core, that would be achieved by three rings of walls that sectioned the village into three different parts. The outer wall would be located on the ground next to the mountain and would be very traditional walls. Thick, sturdy and tall, with a heavily fortified main gate. Towers and overhanging sections would be needed so that the enemy could be shot at from all angels. Outside of the wall would be all things that were too large to be inside or that required flat ground. That meant farms, eventual stables and the like.


    Inside of the wall would be houses and warehouses, meant to decrease the logistical problems related to production. The road leading up from the main gate would be walled on both sides, with smaller gates appearing regularly to make it easier for the villagers to move around. Those walls didn¡¯t need to be particularly thick or tall, just enough to box in whoever walked on the road. Because of the mountains steep elevation, the second ring of walls could easily be made tall enough that archers could comfortably fire at anyone who had breached the main gate. The second wall would be thicker than the walls that followed the road, but it wouldn¡¯t need to be as sturdy as the outer wall. If they could manage to scale up the crossbow into proper ballistae, then they could mount those on top of the second ring.


    The main part of the village would be between the outer and the second wall, but behind the second wall they would place all vital buildings: workshops, garrisons, warehouses and the like. Hanna had decided to have two zones of warehouses because of redundancy. The outer warehouses were meant as drop of points, while the inner ones would be meant as the reserves that would be needed in order to survive a siege. That meant that they could afford to fall back from the outer ring just to make the invaders pay dearly when they moved towards the second ring. Hanna hadn¡¯t settled on all the specifics yet, but she had quite a few ideas that would make moving along that walled in road an absolute nightmare.


    The last line of defence would be an absolutely massive wall, at least in thickness and height, but it would only cover the relatively short opening that lead to the valley. The only thing that would be behind that one would be storages for food, defence materials and some rudimentary housing. That would be the village¡¯s very last chance at survival, an open-air version of a bunker.


    Moving about in this new version of the village would be annoying and shifting goods around would be a proper pain. Hanna had a solution in mind for the later problem. To the side of the village was a steep cliff, the natural boarder for the planned walls. If they could create one flat area per level of elevation, then they could create a series of pullies that would allow them to easily and efficiently move goods between the village¡¯s various sections, without giving the enemy a fast-track into the village¡¯s core.


    This whole project was a massive undertaking, and it would be made worse by the fact that they would have to raise major parts of the village to get it done. New houses would have to be built as the old ones went down, and given that they soon had proper planks to build with, that probably ought to wait until the sawmill was finished.


    There was no way this could be done fast enough, not even a tiny part of it. The first thing that they needed now was some form of outer defence. The village had nothing of the sort at the moment. They had a bit of stone lying around, but not enough to begin constructing a wall right now. It was a bit depressing, her grand schemes would have to be put on hold, and the first thing they would build was a measly palisade, built by timbre that they could harvest in the valley. Ideally, they ought to build that at the outer edge of the village, but that would massively increase the amount of work needed, and the flat ground would make the palisade much less effective. The annoying compromise was to build it halfway up, sacrificing a lot of the village, but instead saving timbre, time and increasing their defences.


    When Hanna and Gunnar finally were done with all the planning, Hanna was totally spent. Sparring with Birgitta was less exhausting than this. Hanna resolved to not speak another word for the rest of the day. Maybe the week. Her plan now was to reward herself by finally dragging Rune to bed. He was wounded and all, but he would probably be fine. She would try to be gentle.


    Gunnar stopped her before she could set off to find Rune.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Gunnar felt a bit too grandfatherly for Hanna to outright say that she was about to bang a bartender until she forgot about the impending attack, a village full of resentment and the loss of the world as she knew it.


    ¡°The funeral is about to begin¡±, he said.


    Gunnar looked tired when he saw Hanna¡¯s confusion.


    ¡°Did no one tell you about the funeral?¡±


    ¡°No?¡± Hanna said, making Gunnar sigh.


    ¡°I would tell you to dress up a bit, but I guess those clothes are all you have?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry¡±, Hanna winced as she studied her clothes. She was covered in dirt and some blood that must have stuck on her as she desecrated the corpses of her enemies. It was hardly worthy of a funeral, but it was what she had.


    The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the village as they walked through it. Hanna and Gunnar travelled to what she called ¡®the square¡¯, for lack of a better word. It was just a small open area that was used for various purposes. Pretty much all of the village had gathered around a large stack of firewood. Gunnar ditched her immediately when they arrived since he had to prep for the funeral. As she moved among the crowd, people moved away from her, giving her odd looks and making her feel like a shark among fish. She would like to say that she didn¡¯t care, but it kind of stung and she felt more alone than ever before.


    The few who talked did so with low voices. Hanna moved to the outskirts of the crowd and waited for this shit to be over. As much as she thought it sad that Gudrun and Karl had died, the way she was treated by the villagers made her more pissed-off than anything else.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing here?¡±


    Hanna stopped her brooding and turned around. Oh great. It was mud-girl and her side-kicks.


    ¡°You have no right to be here.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure? Because Gunnar brought me here and all¡±, Hanna said unperturbed. ¡°You are not one of us. My cousin is dead!¡± The female side-kick cried. Hanna was a little bit touched by the genuine sadness in her voice. Not a lot though. People being offended by your mere presence made it rather hard to feel sympathy for them.


    Mud-girl stepped closer to Hanna.


    ¡°Leave right now or we will need to hold another funeral¡±, Mud-girl threatened, then she paused for a second, thinking over what she had said. ¡°¡­ which no one will come to!¡±


    Hanna laughed. It sounded a bit more cynical than she liked, but what the hell. She was growing tired of this shit. They had already stabbed her once. She had survived that, but only because of her healing, which they definitely hadn¡¯t taken into account when they stabbed her. Hanna itched for a fight, but it would have to wait. Classy people don¡¯t fight at funerals.


    Hanna noticed a growing unrest among the rest of the villagers. They were watching their argument closely and was growing more agitated by the moment.


    ¡°People are grieving here Birgitta¡±, Hanna said. It felt super weird to call her by her name.


    ¡°What do you care? You didn¡¯t help him in the fight, you couldn¡¯t even bother to dress up for his funeral¡±, the crying sidekick cut in.


    Come on, Hanna thought. It wasn¡¯t her fault that she hadn¡¯t changed, and they didn¡¯t know shit about what happened in that fight.


    Mud-girl tried to shove Hanna, but she was ready for it. This would not be a repeat of their last rumble. She smacked Mud-girls hands away and gave her a push in return. It wasn¡¯t quite the level of force that sent Birgitta and Elsa flying the day before, but it wasn¡¯t far from it. Mud-girl flew a solid meter or so, hitting some of the onlookers in her fall.


    ¡°What the hell are you two doing?¡± Karin asked. Hanna hadn¡¯t seen her approach. What should she say? ¡®She started it¡¯ probably wouldn¡¯t cut it.


    ¡°That monster attacked Birgitta!¡±, the male sidekick said, holding his female counterpart in a protective hug. The crowd was growing unruly, and a few of them looked outright hostile.


    ¡°That is not what happened. I¡­¡± Hanna began.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear any excuses. This ends now!¡± Karin cut in. She studied the villagers for a while. ¡°Hanna, I think it¡¯s best if you don¡¯t attend this.¡±


    Whatever, Hanna thought. It is not as if she knew Gudrun or Karl particularly well. But Karin should be better than this. Making her leave wasn¡¯t right. She wasn¡¯t the one to cause this.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t right¡±, she said to Karin and fled the scene. Things like this made her furious. There was no winning this. Right or wrong meant nothing at all here, and stomping Mud-girl into the ground would do nothing to improve how the villagers felt about her. It wasn¡¯t the first time that Hanna was in this kind of situation, it was just the first time things were this severe. If you weren¡¯t a part of the whole, which Hanna usually wasn¡¯t, people always picked up on that. Not everyone, just the mindless sheep that unavoidably made up the bulk of any group. Either you thrived in group-think, or you couldn¡¯t stand it. Group-thinkers were always jarred by individuality, it had been the same in school and in the army. Hanna¡¯s usual tactic of just ditching them had worked fine then. Not so much here though, were leaving the group also meant leaving civilization.


    Hanna had been walking for a while without thinking about her destination. She chuckled humourlessly when she realised that she stood in front of the Alehouse. Her feet knew what she needed alright. But there would be no alcohol for her. The door was locked and nobody seemed to be around. There was probably no reason to keep it open with everyone attending the funeral. Everyone but her that is.


    Hanna felt lost. The few that she knew in the village were at the funeral, and she honestly didn¡¯t know what to do now. She could probably return to the bunker, but that might be locked as well. Gunnar had said something about lodging in a communal house before, but she hadn¡¯t checked it out then. If memory served her, one of the rooms ought to be hers. It felt weird to just walk in a take a room in a house she¡¯d never been in, but Hanna was quite out of fucks to give. If someone complained about it they would just have to take it up with her fists, Hanna decided.


    Now she just had to remember where it was.

 Chapter 21 – Muddled ambition

    What would you do if you were given extraordinary powers? Would you leave your nine to five if you could heal from any wound? Would you walk the streets dressed in spandex if you were unreasonably strong? I¡¯m sure you have thought about it. If you occasionally let your mind wander into dreams of such grandeur, know that you are deluding yourself. Needs are more or less constant, and new means does not equal new needs. Hanna had extraordinary capabilities, but they were not used for extraordinary tasks. Take right now for example:


    Hanna had just arrived at the site where they were constructing the palisade. Once again, she found herself acting like a goddamned glorified donkey. Anyone could load a cart with some timbre. Why was she stuck doing it just because she could do it better? She couldn¡¯t really complain about it, this shit needed to get done ASAP. And she could do it faster than anybody. Still, it annoyed the hell out of her. Once this attack was over with, the very first thing she would do was to get started on her animal breeding program. Those bulls wouldn¡¯t know what hit them.


    The palisade was more or less done, this load of hers would be the last. There wasn¡¯t a lot of soil on the mountain. Just a meter or so was what they had to play with until they hit rock. It would probably be enough for the palisade to hold. It had to be. It had taken the village a solid week to get this far. If the attack was coming it would be soon. There were quite a lot of houses outside of their make-shift wall. All of the families living there had been relocated to other places, like the communal house Hanna had been living in the past week.


    Hanna scoffed at the memory of the funeral. She did not like to think of herself as a sensitive person, but it was probably time for her to accept that she wasn¡¯t a robot. She had been hurt and angry. Being shunned by an entire community got to you, where you recognized that or not. Hanna had been sulky for the first couple of days. The palisade still needed to be built though, so she had buried herself in work, avoiding tasks that meant she had to talk to others than Gunnar. He had been his usual self. Either he didn¡¯t stand by Karins decision on the funeral, or he felt bad about it and wanted to make amends. It took Hanna a few days of manual labour, but eventually the fact of things sunk in. The village was bothered by her, simple as that. They might feel threatened or they might dislike her for being an outsider, but it wasn¡¯t something that would change quickly. She just had to accept it and move on, or once and for all decide to ditch them for good.


    The room she had seized in the communal house was nice enough. It was small but clean and with a working bed. Best of all was that the communal house was all but empty, she had only seen three others walking in and out, and none of them with a burning need to talk to her.


    The manual labour she had engrossed herself in was actually rewarding, all things considered in the way that only manual labour can be. She put in hard work, and in return she got instant and clear progress. For every load of logs that she dragged the long way from the forest to the village, the palisade grew a sizable amount. And now, largely thanks to her, the palisade was pretty much finished. The only thing left once the last parts were up was to construct some kind of gate. Right now it was just a largish hole in the middle. There had been quite a lot of discussion on how to build the gate. It needed to be movable, sturdy and built in a heartbeat. What they had settled on was to have a section much like the rest of the palisade, just with the difference that it could be tipped backwards, and when closed it would be supported by some diagonal logs from the inside.


    It wasn¡¯t just Hanna that worked hard though. They had only gotten this far because virtually everyone pitched in, but it meant that all other activities had to be paused. The notable exceptions were pulling in the harvest and finishing the sawmill. It wasn¡¯t really time to harvest the fields yet, but an early harvest was a safer bet than leaving the fields to the Wolves.


    The sawmill had been finished yesterday, and it was a beautiful thing. Hanna couldn¡¯t take much credit for it, it was mostly Gunn¡¯s work. Seeing it in action filled her with pride anyway, and the rather neat planks that it churned out would do wonders for the village¡¯s architecture and standard of living. As soon as the attack was over and they could get back to fortifying the village properly, the village would begin a massive makeover. The very first thing they would focus on was the outer wall, but as soon as that was up, buildings would be put up in a neat and orderly grid-based layout. It was a necessity really, the segmentation of the village meant that they had to use space wisely, and that they must always have a clear plan for the flow of goods and people.


    As it was now, Hanna was feeling rather good and optimistic. She could live with how the village treated her, at least for the immediate future, and she was honestly looking forward to seeing the village grow and prosper. Her self-imposed stint of isolation had done a lot to improve her mood, but what really had helped came from a rather unexpected friend. Gunn had come knocking on her door yesterday, looking all fidgety and nervous. Gunn¡¯s previously hostile attitude was gone and she seemed rather apologetic. The speech she gave about how the village ought to straighten their act and realise that Hanna was only trying to help was nice and all, but it was what she brought with her that truly sold the message.


    It was the crossbow they had designed, in all its glory. It was a beautiful thing, a wooden stock, dark from being treated with oil and probably about just over a meter in length. No pistol grip but at least a proper triggering mechanism similar to modern rifles. The bow was made of steel, and the string attached to it was some kind of metal wire. Running along the length of the stock was a steal leaver that was connected to the end of the crossbow. When it was folded down it laid slick against the barrel, without obstructing the string, and when it was pulled backwards it put the bow in a tension without too much hassle. Gunn had even fitted the crossbow with a leather strap and matching quiver that was meant to be connected to her belt. The arrows were rather short, maybe just two or three decimetres, but the fletching was done nicely and the steel tips locked dangerously sharp.


    It was love at first sight, and Hanna had hugged Gunn before she even realized it. The woman had blushed from that, and now in hindsight Hanna realized that hugs might be a bit more emotionally loaded here than they used to be. Whatever, Gunn would just have to deal with it. Hanna had dropped everything and immediately gone out to test her new toy. The village lacked a proper firing range, so Hanna had improvised and placed some pieces of firewood at different distances on the outskirts of the village.


    The crossbow had a glorious kick to it that made shooting an absolute delight. It wasn¡¯t the same kind of kickback that rifles had since it was more of a pull than a push, but it made the force of the shoot evident. Aiming was done through open iron-sights mounted on the tip of the crossbow. It wasn¡¯t quite was she was used to, but it was close enough that she could manage. Distances over two hundred meters or so would probably be impossible, but the arrows began dipping in height around there somewhere, so it wasn¡¯t as if the crossbow could handle those kinds of distances well anyway. Hanna wouldn¡¯t be able to snipe from far away, but in shorter distances she would be an absolute nightmare. She was still getting used to the weapon, but she could load and fire an arrow in about ten seconds or so. The logs she had been shooting at had not fared easy. At closer distances, the force from the arrow had blown the firewood into pieces, and the further targets had been skewered or at least deeply pierced. Hanna smiled to herself. When Josef finally was coming around, he would be in for a treat.


    While the fork with the palisade had run smoothly, it wasn¡¯t all sunshine and roses. Most of the villagers had been happy to help, but a small and growing group stubbornly refused to do their part unless Gunnar very clearly told them to. It took Hanna a couple of sessions of eavesdropping and snooping to figure out was what going on. Mud-girl and her sidekicks were spending all their time convincing the villagers that Hanna was not to be trusted, that the palisade they were building was her idea and that it was purposely designed to fail them at a critical moment or some similar nonsense. Most didn¡¯t by their bullshit, but enough people did for it to be a problem. Hanna had told Gunnar about it, but like always he had been too understanding to actually see it as malicious. They couldn¡¯t afford any infighting when the attack came, and Hanna was out of patience for all the shit Mud-girl was pulling. Hanna was going to confront her and put an end to all this, and she would have to do it soon.


    The other captive had woken up two days ago and Birgitta had thoroughly interrogated him, with whatever that entailed. Hanna had not been there when it happened, but from what Birgitta was saying he was a great deal more tight-lipped than Tor had been. Tor on the other hand had been a real asset. Aside from readily answering any questions from Birgitta, he had soon joined in on building the palisade. Letting him help was a risk of course, but the guy was quite scrawny, and even if he tried something he probably wouldn¡¯t be very successful. He genuinely seemed glad to have ditched the Wolves and it was obvious why. From the way he interacted with the other villagers it was clear that he was a nice guy, or that he was an amazing actor. The later didn¡¯t seem very likely, and Hanna couldn¡¯t really see him robbing and killing for a living. Still, it irked her that some former gang-member was quicker to integrate into the village than she had been.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Good work Hanna!¡± Gunnar said and patted her back. Hanna had been too deep in thought to see his approach.


    ¡°Thanks¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we could have done this without you. At least not this quickly¡±.


    Hanna smiled. It was nice of him to try, but a few compliments from him couldn¡¯t really cover for the rest of the village¡¯s disregard of her efforts.


    ¡°As strange as it sound, I don¡¯t think there is much more for you to do now. You should take a break for the day, you¡¯ve definitely earned it.¡±


    Hanna studied the work on the palisade. Her cart had been emptied and the last logs were being put into place as they spoke. He was probably right, but she was leery about stopping work. It had kept her occupied and focused for a while know and she didn¡¯t look forward to the brooding that was bound to return if she was back in her room and alone with her thoughts. But then again, there was other stuff she could occupy herself with than work. She could knock back an ale or two, and she still hadn¡¯t gotten what she wanted out of Rune¡­


    Happy with her plans for the evening, Hanna said goodbye to Gunnar and went to the alehouse. Lunchtime wasn¡¯t quite over so the place was packed. No tables were free and Hanna wasn¡¯t exactly eager to sit down with some random villagers. To her delight, she found that Rune was manning the bar. He was still wounded but seemed happy to see her.


    ¡°Hanna! I¡¯m surprised to find you here. First time?¡± He asked playfully.


    ¡°Very funny. Pour me an ale, would you?¡±


    ¡°Sure, just show me the money first. If memory serves you¡¯re not exactly flush with cash¡±.


    Hanna glared at the cheapskate. Then she realized in embarrassment that he wasn¡¯t wrong. She hadn¡¯t have to pay for her drinks in a while so she hadn¡¯t thought about it, but she was flat out broke. Earning an income had been very far from her mind since she got here. She would have to talk to Birgitta about that, her spot in the Regulars ought to earn her at least some pay. Not that it would help her now. She stuck her hands in her pockets and fished around for anything of value. What she found was the coins she had taken from the battle.


    ¡°Is this enough?¡± She asked, throwing what she had in front of Rune. He fished one up and studied it.


    ¡°Where did you get these?¡±


    ¡°What? Are they not good enough for you? I took them from our attackers.¡±


    ¡°Of course they are no good. These are from the Kingdom. Someone might take them but I certainly won¡¯t. Village money or no service hon¡±, Rune said and tossed the coin to the bar disk.


    ¡°The Kingdom? Is it another place filled with exotic creatures and wonder?¡± Hanna asked with a tired voice.


    Rune gave her a confused look, probably struggling with if she was sarcastic or not. ¡°Of course it is. It¡¯s the strongest faction there is. Their military is unbeaten. The only reason the villages around here haven¡¯t been conquered is because we are too small for them to bother with. Be that as it may, I¡¯m not accepting their fucking coins.¡±


    Hanna¡¯s interest was piqued. Something big enough to dominate everything around it had probably been around for a while. Or had some concrete reason for their might, but in either case, chances were high that someone around there held some answers. This strange world Hanna had woken up to was constantly growing bigger and bigger, which paradoxically enough only served to remind her of what a small corner of it she had seen yet. Sure, that small corner was stranger than anything she had seen anywhere in her old world, but that only raised the stakes. There was a larger context out there, and Hanna had questions that needed answers. She also needed that ale.


    Hanna growled. ¡°What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll by you an ale¡±, Olof offered and joined her by the bar disk.


    ¡°Welcome¡± Rune nodded towards Olof.


    Hanna smiled. She hadn¡¯t seen Olof in a while. His goofiness wasn¡¯t exactly attractive, but it was somewhat endearing. At least his sense of timing was on point


    ¡°Long time no see¡±, she said. ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t mind taking you up on that offer¡±


    Olof coughed up the coin and Rune handed them an ale each. Olof was silent for  a little while and Hanna was too busy chugging to contribute.


    ¡°I¡­ I heard about what happened at the funeral¡±, Olof began tentatively.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t bring that shit up¡± Hanna said. ¡°I¡¯ve more or less managed to put it behind me¡±.


    ¡°Still, it isn¡¯t fair how they treat you¡±


    Hanna scoffed. ¡°They don¡¯t seem to be too bothered by fairness.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve worked your ass off helping with the palisade. The least they could is to treat you with some respect.¡± He paused for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t get why Birgitta is so worked up about you. She should stop it with the trash talking¡±


    Hanna was surprised. ¡°You¡¯ve noticed it too?¡±


    ¡°How could I not? It¡¯s all she ever does¡±


    ¡°That ends tonight¡±, Hanna said with determination. She hadn¡¯t really decided until now, but enough was enough.


    ¡°What will you do?¡± Rune butted in.


    ¡°Not sure yet. I guess I¡¯ll talk to her and tell her to quit her shit or face the consequences¡±


    Olof looked worried. ¡°Be careful Hanna. Birgitta isn¡¯t normal. She has always been¡­ a bit unhinged.¡±


    ¡°All the better¡± Hanna said. She was itching for a fight. ¡°I¡¯ll gladly take her on¡±.


    Hanna emptied her ale, filled with determination. ¡°Wish me luck boys¡±, she said and left the premise.


    She spent the rest of the day following Mud-girl around. It felt silly sneaking after her, but she wanted to see for herself what the girl was up to. Finding her wasn¡¯t hard, she practically toured every place of the village that was likely to have a congregation of people. Hanna was too far away to hear what they were talking about, but it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine that the topic was her. Wherever she went she was constantly shadow by one or both of her sidekicks. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure what was more pathetic, that they constantly needed to be by Mud-girls side or that she constantly wanted them there. It wasn¡¯t until evening that they split up. Mud-girl walked in to a small house and stayed there for a while. Hanna guessed that it was probably her house and that she would be staying there for the night. Just as Hanna had grown tired of waiting and was preparing to take care of business, the door opened and Mud-girl left once again.


    This time something was different. She was up to something, constantly checking her surroundings. Hanna followed her as best as she could, but it was a lot harder when Mud-girl was turning around every second. The chase went through the less travelled pathways between the houses, until they ended up outside the building were the second captive was held. Mud-girl entered the door with a final glance around to see if someone had noticed her.


    Hanna was intrigued. She totally excepted her to rile up the villagers against her. Sneaking off to have a chat with the enemy was something else entirely. Hanna took the risk of moving in closer, figuring that this was a conversation she needed to hear. That didn¡¯t prove to be very fruitful, despite the flimsy quality of the walls it was pretty much impossible to hear anything. Mud-girl was probably smart enough to keep her voice down. Hanna toyed with the idea of walking in on them, but before she could make up her mind, Mud-girl opened the door, putting her face to face with Hanna.


    Both of them were startled.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± Hanna asked.


    Mud-girl looked afraid. ¡°None of your goddamned business!¡±


    ¡°Yes it is! All you do is go around, telling people what kind of monster I am. What the hell have you got against me?¡±


    Mud-girl glared coldly at Hanna for a couple of seconds. ¡°What a stupid fucking question. You are a freak! Strutting around the village like you belonged here, having the audacity to think yourself human. And despite all that, mom still think you¡¯re the hottest shit she¡¯s ever seen. Do you have any idea how hard I¡¯ve worked to impress her?¡±


    Hanna was caught off guard by that. Tears were building in Mud-girl¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°A whole life spent trying to make her notice me, care for me. And what do you do? You walk up, shatter a shield in my face and then bam, a member of the fucking Regulars!¡±


    ¡°Are you crying?¡± It came out sounding like a mockery, but Hanna didn¡¯t mean it like that. It took Mud-girl over the edge.


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± she shouted and ran away, cowering her face. Hanna was far to confused by how this turned out to follow. This was not how she expected this to go. It probably wasn¡¯t that easy growing up with Birgitta as a mother. Hanna hadn¡¯t heard any mentions of a father either, so maybe he was out of the picture. Still, Mud-girl wasn¡¯t the first to grow up without doting parents. It didn¡¯t excuse her behaviour and Hanna wasn¡¯t about to forgive her just because she turned on the waterworks.


    The girl had been hostile since the first time they met. She had stabbed her, backtalked her at every opportunity, and now she was scheming something with the captive. All Hanna wanted was to tell her to fuck of and maybe kick her around a bit. Was it too much to ask?


    Worst part was that she couldn¡¯t let it end like this. The girl was a growing problem, not just for Hanna but for the entire defence of the village. Someone needed to deal with that. Given the cause of Mud-girl¡¯s tears, it was clear what needed to be done. Hanna just had to stroll up to Birgitta and inform her that she was quite the shitty parent, and that she needed to rein her daughter in before things got really out of hand. That would probably work out alright.

 Chapter 22 – Are you fired up?

    Work on the palisades had been a driven thing, something most tried to help with, simply because their continued survival hinged on it. Once it was done, that sense of urgency quickly died out. With a solid barrier between the villagers and the outside world, people began calming down. And a rising number even began doubting that an attack was coming at all. Gunnar and Birgitta did their best to keep everyone motivated, but for all their efforts they couldn¡¯t stop progress from slowing down.


    The only part of the defence that improved as time went by was the actual defenders. Birgitta had made sure that every pair of idle hands was practicing combat in some form, be it archery, sword or spear. All the frustration she felt at the decreasing support for defending the village had been poured into this, and she mercilessly cracked down on anyone who dared complain. A lot of the villagers had spent some time in the militia when they were younger, and in their case it was mostly a question of freshening up old skills. The rest was stuck solely practicing with the spear. Fighting with swords were too complicated to teach in a few days, and the village didn¡¯t have enough swords to outfit everyone anyway. They didn¡¯t have enough spears either, but making more was a small task, at least if they didn¡¯t do them the way Hanna had been forced to. The untrained villagers hade no hope of becoming proficient spearmen in this small amount of time, but even a complete novice could be somewhat dangerous with a sharpened stick, at least if they gathered up next to others and kept the sharp end pointed towards the enemy.


    Hanna had always envisioned bows as central for medieval battles, with clouds of arrows flying through the skies. That turned out to be a fool¡¯s dream. A cloud of arrows could only be made from a lot of archers and would only be good against an enemy that was neatly gathered up in front of them. The village only had a couple of handfuls of bows, and about the same amount of people capable of using them. It was logical really, people didn¡¯t spend their days practicing a tool that they would never use. The only ones who had a bow and knew how to use it were the ones who needed it to make a living. In the case of the village, that list pretty much began and ended with the ten or so people who regularly went out hunting. In the long run, that wasn¡¯t something that Hanna would accept. She wanted her cloud of arrows, and the village needed them if it would ever become as defensible as she hoped.


    Hanna and Birgitta had carefully arranged their forces in preparation of the attack. Everyone who had been training with Birgitta was given a weapon to keep with them at all times, as well as a clear instruction where to go when the enemy came. Life in the village couldn¡¯t just be put on hold indefinitely until Josef finally came around, so they couldn¡¯t keep the palisade manned around the clock. A small group of members of the militia was tasked with guarding the gate, and the people in that group was regularly changed to keep everyone fresh. Hanna had wanted to send out small teams to scout the surrounding region, but Birgitta had shot that down. The wildlife was simply too dangerous for that to be feasible. Recalling her run in with the bull, Hanna was quick to agree.


    Everyone who wasn¡¯t specifically guarding the gate was organised into smaller teams. Each team was a mix of a smaller number of swordsmen and a larger number of spearmen. Birgitta had done her best to distribute the members of the Regulars so that one ended up in every group. None of the groups had any archers, they were all needed on the palisade. At Hanna¡¯ suggestion they had taken some of the newly made planks to create crude tower shields, which would be carried by people who hade the sole task of providing cover for the archers. It would totally suck if the few archers they had got sniped in the first minutes of the attack.


    All in all, Hanna thought they had a rather solid plan for the defence. They didn¡¯t have a lot of fortifications and the people guarding the village was far from well trained, but they had done as much as they could with the little they had. All that was left now as the long and agonizing wait.


    Three long days went by were Hanna did nothing but spar with Birgitta. She had at first practiced with the others, but their low level of skill meant that they were constantly at risk of being hurt. Not because Hanna was way better than them, but because she could only hold back her strength so much, and if they failed to dodge something an injury was pretty much guaranteed. Hanna didn¡¯t really mind the time spent with Birgitta. Her combat prowess was growing by the minute, and their spars were far from dull. The overhanging attack made Birgitta push Hanna harder than usual, and the fact that they didn¡¯t have to worry about injuring her meant that the only difference between their spars and a real battle was that Birgitta didn¡¯t actively try to decapitate or permanently maim her.


    The only caveat Hanna had against sparring with Birgitta was the tense atmosphere that developed whenever something reminded Birgitta of her daughter. When Hanna with great dread had brought up her last run-in with Mud-girl, Birgitta had exploded into a confusing mix of reactions, alternating the ¡®don¡¯t tell me how to raise my kids¡¯ with ¡®shit, this needs to be dealt with¡¯. Accepting that you were a shitty parent was probably a bitter pill to swallow, but it was something Birgitta simply had to do. They couldn¡¯t afford having Mud-girl running around sabotaging things. Birgitta had seen that too after about an hour of screaming. Hanna had no clue how she had dealt with the problem, but it was obvious that something had happened. Mud-girl hadn¡¯t been seen since then and for probably the first time in their life, the two sidekicks went about their daily business without the sage advice of their leader.


    On the third night after the palisade was done, the time for preparations had run out. Hanna woke to the sound of bells ringing. It was what the village normally used to gather everyone, and it was what they had decided upon to warn everyone about the attack. Fighting away the confusion and grogginess from sleep, Hanna carefully put on her equipment. Time was of essence but forgetting something now could cost her dearly. Ideally, she would bring all her equipment: her crossbow, sword, spear and shield. But she could only fit so much on her body and she would have to forfeit either her shield, spear or her crossbow. It wasn¡¯t much to think about. Since they were lacking in the ranged department, her crossbow was definitely needed. That meant that either her spear or the shield would have to stay, and she would be a lot more dangerous if she brought her spear. Who needed a shield anyway?


    Hanna let her hands wander over her equipment one last time. Her sword was there, her knife was in place, the crossbow was on her back, her spear was leaning against the wall. Everything was tight and fitted properly. For the millionth time Hanna wished she had some proper armour instead of the plain clothes she was wearing. If nothing else, it would give her a much-needed feeling of security. The only thing left now was something she had been dreading to do and had put off for a while. Cutting her hair. It was definitely not the best time to do it, but it needed to be done. Hanna gathered her hair in a makeshift ponytail and resolutely cut it off with her knife. It would look like shit but she needed that piece of headwear that she had stolen earlier. Hanna looked at the pile of hair that was by her feet with a small feeling of remorse. Then she took a deep sigh and put on the helmet. It was time to do this.


    Outside, the village was in a state of confusion. People were running around everywhere. It was a far cry from the orderly process that Hanna and Birgitta had imagined, but it was to be expected. This was just a normal village and the people running around weren¡¯t soldiers. They weren¡¯t trained for this, and a week or so was not enough time to remedy that. Hanna sat out in a quick jog, ignoring the confusion around her. She couldn¡¯t do much to help them and she had places to be of her own. A minute or so later she met Birgitta in front of the palisade. Gathered around Birgitta was the various members of the Regulars, who would be acting as squad leaders. Hanna was one too, despite her protests. Hanna did not like the idea of being in charge of a group of villagers that might very well refuse to listen to her, especially not if the first time they worked together was in the middle of live combat. Birgitta had met her halfway, tasking Hanna with leading some of the archers. Hopefully they would stay out of close combat, meaning that if discipline broke down they could just continue shooting, without risking death just because there were conflicting opinions. The rest of the archers would be in another group on the other side of the gate. Bj?rn led those, and Olof would be there as well. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Birgitta finished up her little rally. Hanna hadn¡¯t listened too closely, it was just a summary of where everyone was going, something she knew well enough since she had helped decide the details. The archers she would be with were already on the wall and Hanna climbed up the unsteady ladder to join them. Most of the archers were sitting down in the cover of the palisade next to their designated shield-bearers, only occasionally risking a peek at the enemy. Hanna put down her spear so that it was easy to reach and unslung her crossbow. She too took a look at the enemy and was happy to see that the attack was still some time away.


    Josef and his men must have expected a less organised defence. They were too far away too be targeted by arrows and seemed to be in the middle of some heated discussion. The cocky bastard had probably just approached the village expecting an easy battle, and then encountered the newly built palisade. Attacking a prepared and fortified village was something entirely different than just running in among the houses and killing some chocked villagers. Hanna glumly realised that despite this, victory was far from guaranteed. He had brought a lot of men. Counting was hard in the dim light but they were probably more than a hundred. That was a lot more than the number of defenders, and most of his guys were probably seasoned warriors. That was far from what could be said about the villagers, not even all of the Regulars had been in a proper battle.


    On the ground outside of the village, the Wolves were preparing for an attack. They had stopped quarrelling and had formed up in a somewhat orderly fashion. Hanna had no clue on how they planned to bring down the gate. A battering ram might work, but she didn¡¯t see anything that looked like one. Ladders might also work, but she saw none of those either. What did that leave them? Axes and torches? The Wolves probably had plenty of those, and there was definitely something burning down there already.


    The enemy began moving towards them. As they got closer Hanna saw that the front rows were all shielded. It was to be expected, they would just have to shoot at them anyway. Some arrows might get through. The front line took its time walking and Hanna just sat there watching their approach, until she realized that the time for waiting was over. The enemy was close enough to shoot at, and now she was expected to tell the people next to her to start trying to kill people. Hell, she needed to do the same. Hanna brought her crossbow to her shoulder and steadied herself against the palisade. The crossbow was loaded and she had one of the enemy squarely in her sights. Just a small twitch from her finger now and someone might die. There were two very distinct groups of people, Hanna reckoned. People who had never killed, and people that had. You could debate morals all you wanted, there would still undoubtedly be a huge divider between the two groups, and Hanna was only inches from making the switch. Now wasn¡¯t the time for hesitation though, and it was with a surreal feeling that she heard herself speak.


    ¡°Archers! On my mark¡­ Fire!¡±


    Her crossbow recoiled in her hands as the bolt sped away. All around her similar sounds echoed. Far down on the field was the man she had aimed at. One second he was fine, and the next he was on the ground. The bolt had cut cleanly through his shield. Most of the other arrows hadn¡¯t been as effective, but one or two had done its job. Hanna loaded the next bolt with a mechanical detachment and considered her feelings. Someone down there was dead or not far from it, and she was the cause. That ought to mean something. But it was as she had feared: she didn¡¯t feel shit. She had spent her whole life feeling distanced from other people, jacking it up to some mental deficiency that left her unable to empathize properly. And now she had crossed that ultimate divider and actually killed someone. Should she be happy or sad that she had been right? Was it better to believe you were broken or to know for sure?


    ¡°Archers!¡± Hanna loaded another bolt and took aim. ¡°¡­Fire!¡±


    A few more of the enemy went down, including Hanna¡¯s target. Perhaps her detachment was simply because she was so far away from the kill, Hanna comforted herself. The Wolves were running know, probably wise since they were losing more and more people with every volley.


    ¡°Fire at will!¡± Hanna ordered. They wouldn¡¯t have time for any more volleys anyway. The closest of the enemy was practically upon them. Hanna loaded another bolt and shot at the closest enemy. The bolt went straight through his shield and threw him to the ground. Hanna found herself smiling. She loved this, the power that started with the initial kickback from crossbow, transferring into that devastating impact¡­ Empathy or not, that was an awesome feeling.


    An arrow whizzing by her head brought back her focus to the battlefield. Hanna ducked down behind the cover of the palisade. ¡®Arrow to the head¡¯ was definitely on her list of injuries that she didn¡¯t want to test if her healing could remedy. Some of the Wolves had stopped a distance from the wall and had begun shooting back at them. They were turtled up behind a wall of shields and only popped up when they were ready for another shot. Hanna told the archers next to her to do the same, that was what their improvised shields was for anyway.


    The time spent covering for arrows had stopped her from getting off anymore shots, and by now some of the enemy ought to have reached the gate. Hanna threw caution to the wind and leaned out over the palisade, confirming her suspicion. The lack of an overhang meant that they couldn¡¯t shoot freely against the Wolves once they had reached the foot of the palisade. Hanna had no clue how they were going to take it down, but leaving them there to do whatever they were planning wasn¡¯t sustainable. She consider arranging some of the shield-bearers to cover her so that she could shoot at the attackers without becoming a pincushion, but things escalated well out of hand before they could set it up.


    A giant ball of fire erupted from the base of the gate, and in only a few seconds the fire was roaring. The Wolves must have brought something flammable with them for the fire to progress that quickly. The answer became obvious seconds later when she spotted what looked like a burning jar sailing over the palisade. It was fucking Molotov cocktail. Hanna cursed at herself for not thinking about it, but in her defence there hadn¡¯t been many of them in the mediaeval games she had been playing. She would need to start thinking a bit more outside the box from now on, Josef certainly was. A Molotov cocktail probably wasn¡¯t that hard to create, it was just a matter of finding a suitably flammable substance and a fragile container to put it in.


    The one that had sailed over the palisade had hit the roof of a nearby house. The villagers that was behind the palisade were desperately trying to put it out, fetching water from the creek. If the gate went down now they would not be prepared to meet them. Hanna took a quick check of the situation, popping her head out of cover again for a second. Only the turtled-up archers were left a distance away from the palisade, the rest of the Wolves had gathered up in front of the gate, ready to charge in the moment it went down. She didn¡¯t see Josef anywhere.


    Practically none of the defenders were shooting at them, the general carnage of the fire and the risk of getting shot kept most of the archers on the palisade from daring to stand up. Given the size of the flames, the gate wouldn¡¯t hold much longer. It might even fall apart right now, it was probably just the heat of the fire that stopped the Wolves from taking it down. Something needed to be done.


    Hanna turned towards the villagers around her. They looked worried and afraid. They were probably right to be.


    ¡°Guys, we need to move¡±


    The villagers looked at her, but none answered.


    ¡°I know this looks like shit at the moment, but I have a plan¡±, Hanna continued.


    One of the shield-bearers scoffed. ¡°Is it any better than this palisade of yours? Cause that sure worked great.¡± Hanna shot her a murderous glare.


    ¡°Can it. If I hear another protest from you guys, I¡¯ll kill you on the spot¡±, she said and reached for her sword to put some weight behind her words. The woman paled, but she kept her mouth shut. Maybe being labelled as an inhuman freak wasn¡¯t all bad.


    ¡°You see the house over there, with the stack of firewood next to it?¡± Hanna asked and pointed to a nearby house. Hanna was expecting snarky remarks about the sanity of seeking up piles of firewood when they were fleeing a fire, but it seemed her threat had done its job. Most of the villagers just nodded, waiting for her to continue.


    ¡°Keep your heads down and leave the palisade. Don¡¯t let the enemy see you regrouping. I want you guys to climb the firewood so that you can get up on the roof. Put the shields up like a wall and be prepared to fire. The moment the gate falls, I want you to shoot like mad into the opening. Don¡¯t bother aiming, just fire like crazy. They will be too crowded for you to miss. Just keep shooting like your life depended on it, because it fucking does.¡±


    ¡°Where will you be?¡± The shield-bearer from before asked. She had regained some of her colour and Hanna thought she saw a spark of determination in her.


    Hanna smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll be down there, keeping them from entering the village¡±. Hearing it out loud, her plan seemed a good deal more reckless. Judging from the looks the villagers were giving her, they were of a similar mind.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry guys. We can do this. We¡¯ll show those fuckers not to mess with us.¡±


    The villagers nodded along, looking a bit more enthusiastic. Hanna gave the word and they started crawling down to the ground. Now all that was left was for Hanna to join Birgitta by the gate. And to start believing her own lies.

 Chapter 23 – Are you ready to go?

    Down on the ground, Birgitta was running a tight ship. She had managed to stop the villagers from trying to put out the fire, at least the ones that was supposed to whether the Wolves¡¯ charge. There was still plenty of villagers running around like mad, but they were non-combatants and what they did didn¡¯t matter quite as much. She had arranged the defenders they way that Hanna and her had agreed upon, which was a relief for Hanna. Bull-headed was normal for that woman, and when she put her mind to it she could be outright impossible. The first time Hanna had told her the concept of mixed units and fighting in formation, Birgitta had waved her off, rightly protesting that it would make it hard to fight properly when they were bunched up that tightly. She had come around eventually, but Hanna had still feared that she would ignore the plan and do it her own way.


    Seeing the almost-neat rows of villagers in front of the gate, it was a thing of beauty, at least given how little time they had to practice. The entire front was just sword and shield, and Hanna recognized a lot of the faces. That meant that Birgitta had put the most experienced fighters there. It was probably a sound tactic, at least if the goal was to keep as many villagers as possible alive. Behind the first line where all spearmen, ready to strike the enemy from the gaps between fighters. Behind them were two more rows of villagers, equipped with whatever weapon they where most proficient with. That was it though. All in all they had maybe fifty villagers that were healthy or trained enough to be of any use in a fight. By Hanna¡¯s quick estimate, that put them at about half the number of the enemy, and she wasn¡¯t exactly betting on most of the villagers to be worth two of the enemy. That was some grim odds, and if they were going to come out alive from this, that difference would have to be compensated somehow.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡± Birgitta asked once she saw Hanna approaching.


    ¡°You are kidding, right? That shit is on fire and going down any minute. I¡¯ve moved the archers away, they can manage on their own¡±, Hanna said and thrust a thumb towards the palisade. Birgitta looked around until she spotted the archers as they settled on the roof.


    ¡°Good call, I guess¡±, Birgitta admitted.


    Hanna leaned in close to Birgitta, lowering her voice. Decreasing moral could be devastating at this point.


    ¡°Look¡±, she said. ¡°They have twice our numbers, this wont work. We need to do something more, and I think I have a plan. Where¡¯s Anders?¡±


    The big oaf was supposed to be in the middle of the defenders, acting as Birgitta¡¯s second, but he had left to sort out the panic that surrounded the burning house. Hanna ran off and physically dragged him away from it. Even if the whole village burned down, it would still be better than letting the Wolves inside. He was quite panicked as well, forcing Hanna had to alternate explaining her plan to him with trying to calm him down. They had some heavy lifting to do, and just Hanna on her own wouldn¡¯t be enough.


    While they were away, the gate was struggling on its last leg. The logs hadn¡¯t burned through yet, but the fixture that kept them together was done fore and it would probably fall apart any second. The animated shouts from the Wolves outside made it obvious that they were ready to pounce. Their eager voices stood in sharp contrast to the tense silence among the defenders. Nobody talked. Some had a look of grim determination, but most just seemed filled with confused apathy, as if they couldn¡¯t believe how their quiet village life had turned into this desperate struggle. Birgitta sighed as she noticed their pathetic attitude.


    ¡°Oi, fuckers!¡± She screamed, turning everyone¡¯s head towards her. ¡°Toughen the fuck up! Do you want to die or what?¡± The defenders looked at her in confusion.


    ¡°Believe me, that will happen unless you stop pitying yourselves and do something about this¡±, she said and pointed towards the gate. Her words had visible effect on the defenders. They straightened up and looked a bit more determined.


    ¡°The gate is going down any second now, and when it does, you need to be ready. I want the front line just holding the ground while the second row poke them with your sticks, just like we practiced. Don¡¯t give them an inch and keep an eye on the guys next to you. Try to bunch up on the enemy, kill anyone who is occupied fighting your neighbour. And the rest of you, be on your toes. If one of our own goes down you fill that gap. Understood?¡± Birgitta asked. The defenders looked rapt and attentive, but nobody answered. That was not what Birgitta was going for.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± She roared, trying to ignite some attitude and spirit. She got a half-hearted response.


    ¡°Oh hell no, you can do better. I asked you, ARE YOU READY?¡±


    The villagers roared in unison, finally a pit pumped-up. Birgitta nodded in satisfied approval.


    Hanna heard the villagers shouting from over by the gate. She winced. Birgitta had probably pulled one of those cheesy ¡®are you with me¡¯ rallies. Hanna hated those. Grandiose speeches were lame, and she was sick and tired of riled up crowds looking for a fight. She and Anders had gotten what they came for and was on their way back. They were carrying a huge log that had been too big to use in the palisade. The only reason it was even there was that Hanna had thought it fun to show off a bit to the villagers. She could sort of handle it on her own, but Anders definitely helped speeding things up. Back when they were training, he had more or less matched her in strength. She had beefed up a lot since then though and was quite sure that she had left him behind by a wide margin now. Together, they could probably pull off this plan of hers. They would have to, at least if they wanted to survive.


    They rounded a corner and could see the gate again. Just seconds later it fell apart in a huge ruckus and the Wolves came rushing in. Hanna shot a glance at the archers on the roof since she didn¡¯t see any arrows raining on the attackers. Her worry was unnecessary, they were just a bit startled and as soon as the shock wore off they began shooting like crazy. Amidst the smoking logs and the general chaos, the attackers were ill prepared for the arrows and they fell by the second. The organised defence and the arrows slowed down the charge and the gate was beginning to bottle-neck. More Wolves pushed in from the back and the ones already inside had no choice but to move forward. They could do little against the wall of spears and shields that closed them in though, and in mere moments the burning remnants of the gate formed a veritable kill zone.


    That didn¡¯t last long enough. Once the attackers noticed what was happening they soon organized themselves and stopped charging in madly and begun working together. They were at a disadvantage but with their greater numbers they could afford to lose a few men. It wasn¡¯t long until the two forces balanced up and the attackers stopped dying in droves. The arrows were still striking them mercilessly, but they were fighting the defenders to a standstill, the foothold they had managed was filled to the brim with Wolves.


    Hanna and Anders were running like mad now, at least considering the weight of what they were carrying. They were in a rush, sure, but that wasn¡¯t why they were running. Momentum was the key to this plan and they had a ton of it. The log they were carrying weighted at least two hundred kilos and they had worked up quite a lot of speed. The were running along the length of the palisade and were almost at the gate, screaming their lungs out for the villagers to get out of the way. The intense fighting made it hard for the villagers to hear them and for a moment it seemed as if tragedy was imminent. At the last moment a resourceful villager grabbed the defenders that were in the way and tossed them to the side, clearing the way for Hanna and Anders.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    When they were just a couple of armlengths from the fighting, Hanna and Anders stopped as one and heaved the log away with all their might. It sailed for a second in the air, before it crashed into the packed crowd of Wolves, cutting through their ranks like butter. The few that wasn¡¯t smashed aside by the collision was pinned down under its weight. The log ended up pretty much were they had aimed it, across the length of the gate. It wasn¡¯t big enough to stop the attackers from entering, but the log and the surrounding pile of bodies made for an annoying hurdle that slowed down the replenishing troops quite a lot and for a moment isolated the ones that was already inside of the wall.


    Birgitta took the initiative and ordered the defenders to press the attack, doing massive damage against the attackers. Hanna drew her sword and joined the fray as well. The guy in front of her was occupied with one of the villagers, his unprotected flank painting a perfect target for her. Once again she felt hesitant to strike. Describing the concept of pushing a few feet of metal into a human torso as ¡®icky¡¯ probably didn¡¯t do it justice, but it was how she felt. Now wasn¡¯t the time to be squeamish though. Hanna steeled herself and stabbed her sword into the guy¡¯s lower abdomen. Her sword sank in without resistance, and as she pulled it back she gazed for a moment at the blood that coated it. It was unreal how easy that had been, like skewering some chicken in preparation of a barbeque.


    The guy fell down straight away and another one took his place, jumping straight at Hanna with an overhead strike. She batted his sword away, and the force of the blow left him out of balance, giving her ample time to strike again. Hanna gritted her teeth and cut his throat on the backswing. Slicing people up would take some time getting used to, and the sight of a partly severed human throat was something she could live without. Hanna chuckled at the irony when she realized it. She actually couldn¡¯t live without it. Either she cut them up as they came, or they did the same. It was almost comforting, killing tons of people doesn¡¯t count if they are trying to do the same to you, right?


    Throwing aside all moral conundrums, Hanna joined the fight once more, relishing in the carnage of it. These guys may or may not be better fighters than her, but that didn¡¯t matter. They were scrubs, and she was probably twice as strong as most of them, if not more. On top of that she had the regeneration of a troll. This was her moment to shine, and they brought this shit upon themselves when they came looking for trouble.


    She swung her sword horizontally against the closest enemy with as much strength as possible. He tried to block but wasn¡¯t quick enough, his guts spilling as the blade sliced through his stomach. Hanna kicked his falling body into the mass of attackers and moved on. The kick gave her some breathing room, and she used that to grab the arm of a nearby Wolf, yanking him off balance before she stabbed her sword up inside his ribcage. This was almost too easy, the chaos of the battle meant that she seldomly had to fight more than one or two at the time, leaving her free to cut them down in a whirling dance of blood and gore. It was an intoxicating experience, leaving her with no room to think about anything else than what was happening in the moment. Dodge a blow, kick a groin, spin around and repeat. Every now and then she felt moments of burning pain as someone scored at hit on her. Hanna trusted in her healing and ignored the wounds, pressing forward.


    Before she knew it, she was no longer surrounded by enemies. Hanna took the time to take stock of the battle. The orderly lines of the villagers were broken, the two groups divided into many smaller skirmishes. All around her where people who was dead or not far from it. She didn¡¯t see Birgitta anywhere but knowing her, she was probably where the crowd of enemies were the thickest. It was hard to judge how they were doing, the amount of dead bodies on the ground seemed promising, but there was far too many of them that looked like villagers for Hanna to feel confident in their victory.


    The question now was why nobody was attacking her. Looking around she noticed a group of enemies that where keeping their distance, studying her every move. She didn¡¯t know what the hell they were stalling for, arrows were still raining on them and they had nothing to gain by lunging around. The answer came in the form of a clay jug with a burning rag stuck in it, sailing towards her from the corner of her eye. Hanna tried dodging but still got hit on the hip, a huge cloud of flame enveloping her as the jar shattered. At first, the shock was too great for Hanna to feel anything. But then as the seconds went by, the pain grew until it was unbearable. Eventually it all became to much for her mind to process and she fell to the ground, losing consciousness. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the bubbling skin of her hand, caught in a cycle of melting and growing back again.


    The fighting by the gate had mutated into a chaotic mess, like larger battles always do. Telling friend from foe was almost as hard as staying alive. Skill only took you so far, a blade to the back took you down no matter how many hours you spent training. That was true for both villagers and Wolves, Birgitta noted as she finished off her last enemy. Dead people littered the area, and regardless if they survived this or not, this was still an absolute tragedy for the village.


    Some poor fucker by the palisade had been hit by the same thing that took down the gate, and the still burning remains illuminated the ground in the dark night. There was still a lot of Wolves left, but they had lost their advantage and no more where coming in from the gate. The battle was at last beginning to ebb out. The Wolves around her were hesitant to approach. It was logical and gave her a welcomed pause, but it dragged this fight out longer than was necessary.


    In front of her, the crowd of enemies parted. A handsome and tall young man stepped out to challenge her. His eyes were a chocolate brown, unlike the green and blue that could be found in the village. His hair was the same colour but was smeared with blood. That was only a plus in Birgitta¡¯s eyes, and the toned muscle on his arm added to his allure. The only downside to him was the hateful smirk in his face, making it clear to everyone just how full of himself he was. She recognized him all right, it was the same prick that she had sent running in the fight that had costed them Carl and Gudrun.


    ¡°Josef, right?¡±


    ¡°You know my name?¡± He laughed. ¡°You must be a friend of Hanna then. A shame really what happened to her, she put up quite the fight.¡± He said and motioned towards the burning body on the ground.


    Birgitta was shocked. That was Hanna? Grief hit her, which probably shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise. Birgitta liked the girl, she faced her challenges head on and was made of sterner stuff than you¡¯d think from just looking at her. Hanna was a far cry from the traitorous and fragile mess that dared call herself her daughter. Being burned alive was a fucking miserable way to go and Hanna deserved better.


    Birgitta glared at Josef. ¡°You better wipe that smirk from your face, boy. You¡¯re dead now.¡±


    Josef kept his smile. ¡°You can try, but don¡¯t blame yourself for losing. I¡¯m unlike anything you¡¯ve faced before.¡±


    Birgitta smirked. This asshole just didn¡¯t know when to quit. A quick throw from her off-hand planted the last of her throwing knives in his throat. Eyes filled with shock, he fell to his knees, his hands holding the wound in confusion. Unwilling to half ass things in case he was like Hanna, she jumped in to finish him off while he was down. Before she got close enough, the remaining Wolves got in the way. No matter, she could cut these losers down in seconds.


    ¡°You fucking bitch!¡± Josef screamed, confirming their suspicion. He could heal all right. Birgitta pushed the dead body of the last Wolf away, clearing the way towards Josef, only to find that the fight was over. Once again, Josef had made a run for it. For all his pride and cockiness, he really wasn¡¯t bothered by fleeing. With him was maybe twenty surviving Wolves. Birgitta sighed. This was a fucking mess. Things would have been so much cleaner if she could have just finished him off. Not much could be done now though. There was still a couple of Wolves in the village, and helping the remaining villagers clear them out could probably save some lives.


    With Josef out of the picture, the last fights were soon dealt with. Only a handful of the defenders were still standing, meaning that the village was now effectively without anyone to defend it. It had been a close call. Had they prepared only a little less, they would probably have been done for. Not that this was much of a victory. It was the biggest attack that the village had ever faced, and it had a death count to match it. The ones participating in the defence had been most of the village¡¯s working force, leaving only children and the elderly to pick up the pieces. Forget defending against attackers, they would be hard pressed to even survive the coming winter


    Birgitta sat down on the ground next to Hanna¡¯s charred corpse, allowing herself a rare moment of pity. She was getting to old for this shit.

 Chapter 24 – Aftermath

    Alone on a narrow bed, Hanna woke with a scream. She calmed down somewhat once she realized that the terrifying heat was gone. Then she remembered the sight of her skin melting and the sickening experience of what was probably her eyes boiling, and had just enough time to pop her head over the edge of the bed before she began heaving. Only some thick bile came up, her stomach all but empty. The effort left her shaky and disoriented, in a way that she hadn¡¯t felt since she first woke up in the valley. Just like that time, she had this burning imperative to eat. Someone was obviously looking after her, a moment of searching netted her a bowl of porridge that was placed on the floor next to the bed. Hanna cursed at its disgusting coldness but was at the same time thankful that it hadn¡¯t been standing a decimetre to the left. Despite the warmth it might offer, a serving of bile wasn¡¯t something she wanted in her breakfast.


    Fuck. This was about as shitty as she had ever felt. She was sore to the bones, and everything had some kind of wrongness to it, especially her head. It felt unusually heavy, in a way that a headache couldn¡¯t produce. And it itched like mad. She brought her hand to her head and froze when her fingertips didn¡¯t find the skin she was expecting. Panic caught her as her hands franticly explored her scalp. Starting from her forehead, the cold and hard texture of metal covered her head, all the way back to her neck. The shape of it made it clear to Hanna what had happened: her helmet must have melted in the fire, and now she was stuck with a fucking swimming cap of metal. Great, that would do wonders for her public image.


    Hanna longed for a proper mirror. She didn¡¯t think herself vain but being permanently disfigured sort of bothered her. And the lack of hair probably made her look like she was a Nazi, or as if she¡¯d undergone chemotherapy. She would have to figure out how to cover this up, she already stood out way too much in this shithole of a village. Hanna left the room a while later, stepping out into the chill, evening air. The stuffing of her pillow had been left on the floor by the bed, the casing tied up like a bandanna covering her head. It was a bit too cancer-chick for her taste, but beggars can¡¯t be choosers.


    The village felt markedly different. It was empty and quiet, and a lot of the houses were burned to the ground. The first person she met was a kid barely in his teens. His eyes turned into saucers when he saw her.


    ¡°Your awake!¡± He proclaimed with amazement.


    ¡°Yeah. Is Birgitta around?¡±


    The kid was practically bouncing with excitement. ¡°Yes!¡± Come with me, I¡¯ll take you to her¡±, he said with a huge grin, half-running before he even finished his sentence. Hanna had struggled a bit to keep up, still shaky and unsteady. The kid shot constant glances at her and made sure she didn¡¯t lose him. As they travelled through the village, the few people they met stopped what they were doing and gawked in wonder at them. Most also cheered, which was a new experience to Hanna. It got a bit annoying after a while, but she¡¯d take it any day over open resentment. Eventually Hanna realized where they were heading. She ought to, it was her favourite part of the village. The kid threw the door to the alehouse open with a bang and walked in, catching everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°She¡¯s awake!¡± He shouted, announcing Hanna¡¯s arrival. As she stepped in through the door she was met with toast and cheers, a far cry from what she usually got as she walked in here.


    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Karin asked with some concern. She was sitting by a table with Gunnar and Birgitta.


    ¡°Like shit¡±, Hanna replied.


    Birgitta smiled. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t? Take a seat lass¡±, she said and motioned towards the last empty chair at the table.


    As Hanna walked towards the chair, she was keenly aware of everyone¡¯s eyes as they followed her in the room. While the village¡¯s attitude towards her seemed to have taken a one-eighty, she was still a bit bothered by their inability to just ignore her. Her buttocks had barely kissed the chair before someone plopped a stacked plate and a filled mug in front of her. Hanna was a bit surprised by the treatment but thanked the young boy that had placed it there. She was still starving.


    ¡°Glad to see you up and running¡±, Gunnar said and patted her on the shoulder.


    Hanna drank deeply from the mug. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®running¡¯ quite yet, but sure.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s the¡­ you know¡±, Karin asked, nodding towards her head.


    Hanna smiled bitterly. ¡°Great really. No more visits to the haircutter¡±. Only Birgitta appreciated her sarcasms.


    ¡°I want to apologize Hanna, for what happened at the funeral¡±, Karin said hesitantly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t. I was pissed at the time, but I can¡¯t really blame you. Either I left, or we would have to stop the funeral. I won¡¯t take the blame for what happened, but they deserved a dignified ceremony. You gave them that.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off¡±, Birgitta scowled. ¡°Get off your high ground and accept the damn apology¡±


    Hanna was taken aback for a moment. ¡°Fine. Apology accepted.¡±


    Birgitta nodded approvingly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard about what you did in the battle. You have my thanks¡±, Karin continued. ¡°A lot of people fought hard, but everyone is talking about what you did. The way I hear it, we have you to thank for our survival.¡±


    Hanna raised her eyebrows. That was news to her.


    Birgitta saw her reaction. ¡°I know, it¡¯s hard to believe. Everyone is talking about it though, especially those archers you placed on the roof. If they are to be believed, you ploughed through the scum like a reaper, nearly clearing a third of them by yourself. Makes me wish I saw it with my own eyes.¡± She paused for a second, musing over the battle. ¡°That shit you pulled with the log though, that was clever. I think we¡¯d be overrun if you hadn¡¯t¡±.


    ¡°Eh¡±, Hanna shrugged. ¡°I hardly remember anything of it. I was kind of caught up in the moment until they hit me with the Molotov.¡±


    ¡°You mean that thing they were throwing?¡± Gunnar cut in with sudden interest. ¡°Do you know anything about it?¡±


    Hanna nodded. ¡°Sure, it¡¯s nothing special. Anyone can make it. You just take something that burn easily and put it in a jug or something that will brake upon impact. Then you just stick a burning cloth or something in it to make sure that it ignites.¡±


    ¡°Ingenious¡±, Gunnar muttered, already engrossed in thinking about its potential applications.


    ¡°Anyways¡±, Karin interrupted, likely in order to steer the conversation away from further technological discussions. ¡°A big part of the village died in its defence. We held a meeting after the funeral¡­¡±


    ¡°Hold on¡±, Hanna broke in. ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°This is the fourth day since the attack¡±, Karin said. ¡°That you are even alive is a miracle in its self. When Birgitta found you, you were burned to a crisp.¡±


    Birgitta laughed. ¡°Yeah lass, I nearly crapped my pants when you began moving in my arms. You hadn¡¯t been breathing for at least an hour.¡±


    At first Hanna was chocked to hear that she had more or less come back from the dead. Then she picked up on what Birgitta had said. ¡°Wait, you held me in your arms for over an hour? That¡¯s cute.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Karin laughed way to loud. Birgitta shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glared at Hanna. ¡°If you say another word about it, I¡¯ll make you wish you were dead¡±.


    ¡°Sure you will¡±, Hanna said with a smirk and waved her off. ¡°Just so you can hold me in your arms again.¡±


    Karin wiped a tear from her eye after another round of laughter. ¡°As I was saying, we held a meeting. A lot of those that ran this village is dead, the village in it self is halfway to ruin and there is a ton of work to be done. So we decided that it was time for a change around here.¡± Karin paused and took a few sips of ale. ¡°Gunnar and I are stepping down as elders. Or rather, we are staying, but as councilmembers. From now on, we are head of the council. Except for us, the current list of members are Birgitta and you.¡±


    Hanna wasn¡¯t expecting that. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Birgitta nominated you, and you more or less had the unanimous backing of the rest of the village. If this sounds strange to you, remember that most of the people that resented you are dead now, and the ones that survived know that they have you to thank for it.¡±


    It was more than strange for Hanna. Surreal would be a better word. It was as if she had woken up in an entirely different village. Then again, that was probably exactly what had happened. After this attack, nothing would ever be the same again.


    ¡°Okay¡±, she said. ¡°Is it only going to be just us four?¡±


    ¡°It is for now¡±, Karin answered. ¡°But we want more to join later, there just wasn¡¯t any more volunteers¡±.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m in. What will I need to do?¡± Hanna asked. She wasn¡¯t looking forward to the extra responsibility, but she had a lot that she wanted to change in the village and being in this council would probably make that easier.


    ¡°You get to sit at the table when we make decisions, and that is about it. The rest of the time we expect you to do what you¡¯ve been doing until know, to lead the village in its development.¡±


    Hanna could live with that. ¡°What about money? I¡¯m broke as fuck¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry girl¡±, Birgitta said. ¡°You earn some from being in the Regulars, I just haven¡¯t gotten around to paying you yet.¡±


    That was a relief to hear. Hanna didn¡¯t like being dependent on others to get her drinks. But that reminded her of something else. What happened to her equipment?


    ¡°I¡¯m going to need some new stuff, I think I lost pretty much everything in the fire¡±, she said.


    ¡°No you didn¡¯t¡±, Gunnar comforted her. ¡°You left your crossbow and spear on the palisade and that part of it survived the fire. Not that it would have affected your spear anyway.¡±


    Hanna was relieved to hear that. ¡°What about my sword? And I wouldn¡¯t mind finally getting some armour.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get it for you¡±, Birgitta promised. ¡°But you¡¯ll have to wait a bit until we can make some more. We emptied our stocks in preparation for the attack¡±


    The rest of the dinner was spent discussing the work that needed to be done in the short run. The first order of business that they decided on was to start work on a proper wall. Rebuilding houses and securing food was probably a more pressing concern, but the large amount of deaths had at least brought the small benefit of sorting that out. Parallel to the work on the wall, they would be laying the ground work for the future layout of the village, sticking to the plans that Hanna had drawn up with Gunnar before the attack.


    A couple of weeks went by filled with busywork. The wall was coming along nicely, even if it was far from done. The village had started a proper quarry inside of the valley. They had been terribly sceptic about spending time in what they considered haunted grounds, but Hanna hadn¡¯t given them any room for protests. As time went by the superstition had begun to die down, and people were starting to see the potential of that huge, untouched area, secure from the dangers of the outside world. In order to make room for the future improvements, they would have to tear down a lot of houses. The fire that had ravaged the village had unexpectedly helped a lot with that work, leaving them with ruins to clear rather than houses to dismantle.


    It was a bit disturbing to see kids that was barely in their puberty working in the quarry, but it was them or none at all that was up for offer. Hanna comforted herself with the fact that she had revolutionised their work by introducing the concept of ropes and pullies. Still, the village would probably see a wave of people with bad backs in about ten years or so.


    Hanna was growing accustomed to the metal that encased her head. It still itched, but not nearly as bad as it had the first week. She had spent a lot of time trying to get a good look at it by trying to get a reflection from polished metal and still bodies of water. Her conclusion was that she was ugly as fuck, but with a sort of rugged badassery to her. She was still keeping it covered, but she had swapped her pillow-case-turned-bandanna for an outright silly hat. It was made of leather and looked like a poor man¡¯s helmet, but it was the best she had found and it was honestly an improvement over the cancer-fighting Nazi she had looked like earlier. Right now she was hoping for some good to come out of this. The metal couldn¡¯t possibly be too sturdy since the helm it came from had been quite flimsy. It could maybe deflect an arrow or two though and might give some extra oomph if she headbutted someone.


    Hanna was currently in the process of checking all her gear. The stuff that she had lost in the fire had been more than replaced. Gunn had gone from being a surly old bat to her new best bud, eagerly responding to her wildest request. Hanna felt a bit bad about stealing her away from projects that would benefit the whole village but she needed proper gear if they were to enter another battle. Given how she allegedly performed the last time it would probably pay off in the long run. The main thing she got from her was a marvellous piece of armour. Since weight wasn¡¯t really an issue, they had gone wild and bolted a shitload of overlapping plates of metal on top of a standard piece of leather armour, covering up virtually every area of her body that wouldn¡¯t be hindered by being more rigid. Piercing attacks against the gaps between the plates would probably still go through, but slicing attacks was now a thing of the past.


    Hanna had also commissioned a bunch of straps and belts, working towards a set-up similar to what Birgitta had. Now she had a hatchet on her right hip, a smaller knife in her boot, a longer knife fitted upside down, military-style on her chest and her crossbow hanging from her back with a small hook, allowing a quick draw with one hand. The bolts for her crossbow were hanging on her lower back, easily reachable with her right hand and with a lid keeping the bolts from spilling out. On her left hip was her new sword. It wasn¡¯t anything special, pretty much identical to her former weapon, but it was sharp and in good condition, and that was what counted. She still hadn¡¯t figured out what to do with her shield, so that was attached to her backpack when she wasn¡¯t using it. With everything on, like she had now, she felt dangerous and ready to deal with whatever shit life might throw at her. It was a good feeling, something she hadn¡¯t felt since she was last in her military gear. Hopefully she was also looking the part, she was dead tired of people fucking with her.


    Hanna grabbed her spear and left her room with a feeling of excitement. The time had come for her to head over to the people in the ruins. Birgitta hadn¡¯t been ecstatic when she had suggested that she make the trip alone, but Hanna was a big girl know, a member of the council and all. And they couldn¡¯t really call her defenceless after her performance in the battle. Hanna was looking forward to the trip. While her new status in the village was a welcome change, she really wasn¡¯t a people¡¯s person and there was a whole new world out there, just waiting for her to explore it.


    A quick detour to announce her departure and a few sessions of cheers and goodbyes later, Hanna had left the village behind her and was on the road. The journey to the ruins was uneventful, she didn¡¯t even see any of the murderous bulls. A disconcerting thing that Hanna spent a lot of her time thinking about was that Tor was gone. At some point during the battle, he and the other captive had snuck out. For all his cooperation and good attitude, Birgitta still hadn¡¯t trusted him enough to leave him unguarded when he wasn¡¯t helping the village. Despite that, he had somehow gotten out of the cell he slept in. Since the cell wasn¡¯t broken, he either had the skills to pick the lock, or had gotten some outside help. The former wasn¡¯t impossible, Hanna just had a hunch that it wasn¡¯t what had happened. Given her run in with Mud-girl, there really was only one logical conclusion. The fact that the unhinged nutcase still hadn¡¯t been seen since Birgitta talked to her only added to that logic. Birgitta¡¯s daughter must have helped them escape. Why she did it was uncertain, but it was clear that it could do no good for the village.


    Eventually the ruins came into view, giving Hanna a slight feeling of disappointment. She longed for adventure, and the journey had given her none of it. Equipped with all this new gear, she wanted to use it, to test her mettle against the challenges of this new world. Hanna had emerged from the last battle as a changed person, and that wasn¡¯t just talking about her shiny new head. It had been a baptism of sorts. Her time spent in the village had been one of education, where she slowly learned the tools needed to thrive in this strange world. Participating in the battle had in a way been a test, confirming that she had graduated and was ready to take on the outside world. But it had also been marker, a waypoint on a road that she hadn¡¯t realized that she was walking on. As she threw morality aside and allowed herself into that frenzy of death and carnage that had possessed her, that had signified something greater.


    It was the final goodbye to her old life, the last departure from a set of morals and a way of life that was no longer viable. There was no returning from this. Even if she found a way back to her old world, she would no longer truly be a part of it. Blood splattering your face from a severed jugular made hitting snooze five times in a row something bizarre. Pushing the limp corpse of your enemy aside turned spending hours at the office into a work of fiction. Her old way of life was dead, and Hanna was glad for it. This new world was better, truer in a sense, and so was she. And now she was forever a part of it.

 Chapter 25 – Turning a page (interlude)

    Tor was devastated. It shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise, it was practically his default state at this point. When he had woken up on the wagon, his chest had hurt terribly and he could hardly breath. He was scared shitless and just barely kept himself from panicking. He had fought it down and somehow managed to trick his captors that he was still out from the fight. The panic had resurged as he moved his head ever so slightly and realised that he was stacked among a couple of corpses. But he kept his cool, right up to the point that the impossibly strong girl that had kicked him in the fight threw him over her shoulder as if he was weightless. When she sat him down in a chair and he saw the door closing, he knew what was waiting for him.


    At that point something snapped and he found that he just couldn¡¯t care anymore. His life had been utter shit since that they Josef brought them into his folds, and whatever pain was waiting for him here would only further cement his misery. That was apparently the central theme of his life now, to be suffering at the hands of those stronger than him. Fucking bring it was all he could think as he faced his would-be interrogators.


    But the treatment he received was something completely unexpected. They treated him fairly and rewarded his cooperation with respect. Perhaps respect wasn¡¯t the right word, but they treated him without contempt and made sure he didn¡¯t suffer needlessly. When they shortly after agreed to his suggestion of helping them with improving their defence, he could hardly believe his luck. Being in that village was like a return to his peaceful childhood, where being soft wasn¡¯t considered a weakness and hard work was met with appreciation and respect. It slowly brought him out of the darkness he had found himself in and he began to imagine a future where he was a proper part of this wonderful place.


    In the middle of those strangely pleasant days, a young read-headed girl began coming around every now and then, when there were no others around the cell that he and Bert shared. Tor had trouble understanding her motivations. By some misguided reason, she wanted the village to be attacked, and her plans included their escape and future cooperation. Tor wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about it. On one hand he wanted nothing more than to stay in this blissful place. But on the other hand, he still had his brother to look after, and he still couldn¡¯t understand what had caused him to change so much. Bert wasn¡¯t as uncertain, he jumped at the opportunity at escape and did his best to lead the young girl on. In the end, the decision was made for him, like so many other of the decisive moments in Tor¡¯s life. The attack that the village had been preparing for came around, and in the midst of the confusion the girl showed up, carrying both keys to the cell and some equipment for him and Bert.


    Their escape was an untroubled affair, they simply climbed over a section of the palisade that had been emptied at the beginning of the battle. Tor debated with the rest of them if they ought to join in on the attack, simply because he feared Josef¡¯s reaction if he didn¡¯t appreciate their choice. The red headed girl, Birgitta, was against it while Bert was all for it, leaving Tor as the deciding voice. By the time it came to him to cast his vote, the battle was already going south, at least from the Wolves perspective. The three of them joining the battle wouldn¡¯t tip the scales at that point, so they decided to wait some distance outside of the village, in order to find any potential survivors.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Just as he had feared, Josef was furious when they met up and he found that they had been in the village during the attack without helping, but the worst of it died down when he learned who the red headed girl was. Whatever plans that motivated him to attack the village in the first place was largely irrelevant now. He had been humiliated there, and pride was everything for Josef. Birgitta came into this mess like a godsend. Not only did she know everything about the village, she could be working as an insider for them, making sure that the next attack turned out differently. The two of them began scheming straight away, leaving the rest of the Wolves to just tag along on the return back to camp. Once they were there, Tor sought out Josef at first opportunity.


    Tor surviving his capture and the subsequent escape must have meant something to Josef, because Tor was met with far less disdain than usual. He even got a pat on the back as gratulations for finally growing some backbone. Josef¡¯s approval wasn¡¯t what he was after though. He needed to find his brother, to finally talk to him and find out what had happened in their separation. The cold smile that he got in return for his question sent shivers down his spine. There was a sadistic glee to it, that could only mean one thing.


    ¡°Sorry kid, can¡¯t help you¡±, Josef had said with a light-hearted tone. ¡°Your brother wasn¡¯t as tough as he thought he was. His throat was cut by a dear old friend of mine. His weak attack was batted away as if it was nothing and she left him in the dirt and moved on. It was pathetic really.¡± His voice was casual, as if he was just retelling an interesting anecdote, but his words shook Tor to his core. Reconciling with his brother had been Tor¡¯s last straw, the last thin thread that kept him going. And now he was dead, cut down as one of many in an anonymous crowd, his death and life meaning nothing in the grand scheme of things. He had sat down without noticing and Josef had laughed and ruffled his hair.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lose your mind over it. He just didn¡¯t have what it took¡±, he had said and moved on, leaving Tor with his fractured world. He felt completely detached, as if everything in the world lacked meaning, and nothing could have any hope of mattering. He didn¡¯t know how long he sat there, but eventually he noticed the sun going down and the chillness of the evening. Reality began to sink in and he realized that he couldn¡¯t remain sitting there forever. He would need to eat and sleep at some point, he just didn¡¯t know why he should bother. Why even continue with this charade of a life? The answer came to him as he thought about it. He wanted revenge. He wanted this world and everyone in it to pay for what it had done to him and his family. Josef was definitely on that list, but so was the village that had robbed him of his brother. He couldn¡¯t take on the entire village by himself, but he didn¡¯t need to. Tor smiled. He was definitely going to kill Josef. Just not quite yet.


    Josef had always been driven, but the current him was something else entirely. He was no longer content with being a mere pack leader, he was aiming far higher now. It wasn¡¯t out of character for him, pride alone had spurred him on to always work towards the top. The failed attack against the village had proved that it was a bigger challenge than what could be overcome by a single pack, and that need for more manpower forced him to take a more direct route to secure his advancement. Fortunately for him, that wasn¡¯t particularly hard in a group like the Wolves, and Tor vowed to himself that he would be along for the ride.

 Chapter 26 – New acquaintances

    Just like last time, a session of aimless walking among the ruined buildings eventually produced a pubescent voice ordering Hanna to stop. The failed attempt at a commanding voice made it obvious who she was talking to. She smiled and gave a carefree wave to her surroundings.


    ¡°Nice to see you too, Bengt. Would you mind showing yourself so that I could stop talking to these fucking ruins?¡±


    Bengt stepped out in front of her. ¡°I have clear instructions¡± he protested. ¡°This is a very important job, and Elsa herself have said that I¡¯m the best man for it¡±


    ¡°Do you honestly think that¡¯s why they put you out here day after day?¡±


    Bengt crossed his arms, looking hurt. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Hanna paused for a second. She had virtually nothing to gain from pulling the wools from his eyes. ¡°Nothing¡±, she said. ¡°Just maybe don¡¯t value rules quite as much. They are only as good as the good they do¡±.


    Bengt looked like he didn¡¯t want to understand her point. ¡°Whatever¡±, he said.


    The two of them walked on in a sullen silence, at least from Bengt¡¯s side, and eventually they were back in the room where the negotiations had taken place the last time Hanna was around. When they arrived, a single guard waited for them. Hanna gave the guard a nod and glanced at Bengt. He had made himself comfortable, so Hanna did the same. Elsa stepped through the door maybe ten minutes later. She was dignified like always, but Hanna thought she had a slight spring to her step, as if she had been really looking forward to this.


    ¡°Hanna!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯m so happy to see you. How have you been?¡±


    Hanna scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to answer that, to be honest. The village was attacked¡±. Spoken out loud, it sounded like she was delivering terrible news. That wasn¡¯t what she had meant though. In a fucked-up way, Hanna was glad that the village had been attacked. It had given her an outlet that she didn¡¯t know that she needed, and the version of her that stepped out of that battle felt like a completely different person. Hanna was thankful for the change.


    ¡°Oh my! Is that why you are dressed up like that?¡±


    Hanna studied her armour and weapons. ¡°Nah, this is just my new look. Do you like it?¡±


    Elsa looked conflicted. ¡°Sure¡±, she lied. ¡°You look very dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. That was what I was going for. So how do we do this?¡±


    ¡°You guys usually make the trip in a group, where is the rest of you?¡±


    ¡°They are back in the village. I feel like it was time I stood on my own two legs for a while¡±


    Elsa shot her a calculating smile, probably hoping for a growing chasm between Hanna and the village. ¡°Okay, follow me then!¡± She said and waved her along, leading her on a tour of the settlement. They spent the time talking about the settlement and the technology they encountered as they walked. Every now and then, Elsa would ask a bit about the attack and the state of the village. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure how much she ought to tell her. It probably wasn¡¯t a smart thing to paint the village as the sitting duck that it very much was at the moment. Going for a more cautionary approach, Hanna shifted the details a bit, focusing on their victory and breezed by the fact of just how much it had cost them. She thought she did an okay job, helped along by Elsa being tactful enough not to press her for the answers that she was clearly not willing to give her. It ended up being a rather pleasant walk.


    The dwellers, that was what everyone called them, the strange bunch that Hanna until now had been referring to simply as Elsa¡¯s people. They were a motley crew, the descendants of people who had entered the ruins in search of adventure or answers, and instead had found a home for themselves. The twisting network of underground buildings and tunnels were largely cut off from the outside world, which had left its inhabitants safe and free to engross themselves in their fanatic study of a world that was long gone. There wasn¡¯t a lot of them, Hanna¡¯s best estimate was maybe half the size of the village.


    The population was weirdly specialised, except for one or two who had taken to growing things in the caverns, the vast majority spent their time studying whatever struck their fancy. They survived on the weird plants that thrived in the caverns and whatever food they could trade for. It wasn¡¯t a hard life, the metal that they harvested from the ruins and the knowledge they possessed was in high demand in the surrounding villages. It made Hanna wonder why there were so few of them. She hadn¡¯t asked anyone yet, but she had a few theories brewing, like that the surrounding villagers only produced small quantities of surplus food, or that their underground habitat had some very firm limits on the number of inhabitants it could support before it ran out of air or whatever.


    After having seen their settlement, Hanna was both overwhelmed and disappointed Overwhelmed because they had electric lights everywhere and a myriad of ingenious mechanical gadgets that made their life easier, showing just how far behind them the village was. But at the same time she was disappointed. Either they had only found this level of technology in the ruins, or the civilization it had come from had just about begun dabbling in electricity.


    She wasn¡¯t sure what she had been expecting, to be honest. If they were even more advanced, it would have made zero sense for them to be holed up underground. Perhaps ¡®certainty¡¯ was the word she was looking for. She wanted clear and undisputable evidence for what the fuck was going on here.


    From the technological discussions she had had since she got here, at least something was clear. The dwellers weren¡¯t the inventors of the stuff they had here, at least not this generation of dwellers. Their technology was a result of constantly adding to what the generations before them had done. No one knew much about the first dwellers, paper was in too short supply for anyone to bother writing down useless stuff like the history of civilization and shit. It was understandable, but it meant that Hanna probably wouldn¡¯t be getting the answers that she came here for.


    After the tour of the settlement, Elsa had Hanna sat down for dinner together with a handful of the most respected members of the dwellers. Much like it had been with Gunnar, it was hard to find a template for how they would transfer the knowledge that Hanna was sitting on. Since it was almost impossible for Hanna to accurately judge what was interesting to them, the format they ended up with was a sort of Q & A.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Elsa and the senior members asked her question after question, and Hanna did her best to answer them. Hanna had thought herself to be pretty knowledge, a lifelong habit of checking up everything she didn¡¯t fully understand coupled with a talent for remembering everything that she read had left her with a wealth of knowledge compared to your average schmuck. After having been subjected to the detail-hungry questions of people who had spent generations dabbling in fields they didn¡¯t fully understand, it was painfully obvious that she only had a surface level of understanding in most subjects. It was still way more than they knew, so whatever, but it kind of made Hanna wish she had been paying a bit more attention in school, at least in fields like physics, chemistry and math. Not that the dwellers were complaining, they were taking notes like crazy and was constantly interrupting each other in their eagerness for answers.


    By the end of the dinner, the talks were interrupted by a guard slamming the door open.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am! We have visitors!¡± The guard squeezed out between greedy gasp of air. Elsa gave her a worried look. ¡°We weren¡¯t expecting anyone. Who is it?¡±


    ¡°They are envoys of the kingdom, ma¡¯am¡±


    That blew the air out of the room. Elsa stood up and turned to Hanna.


    ¡°I have some matters to attend to. I would love for you to stay the night, but I¡¯m not certain when this will be done.¡± Then she promptly left the room, taking the guard with her.


    For the first time since she got here, Hanna wasn¡¯t the centre of everyone¡¯s attention anymore. All around her, the remaining dwellers speculated wildly of what this visit could mean. Since she had nothing better to do, Hanna eavesdropped shamelessly. From what she picked up, the dwellers, much like the village, was only alive and kicking because the kingdom hadn¡¯t yet been bothered to deal with them. The kingdom was a faction that sat unchallenged in the region, vastly more powerful than the small villages that cowered in its shadow. This disparity in power meant that they didn¡¯t have to bother to actually trade with their neighbours. Once the kingdom considered you as something valuable or even remotely threatening, it was only a matter of time before they came around to do something about it.


    The dwellers had quite a solid defence compared to their size and the surrounding factions. The same couldn¡¯t be said about their offensive capabilities, which didn¡¯t come as a surprise to Hanna after having seen their mindless pursuit of knowledge. Advanced science could outfit soldiers with superior equipment, but no matter how you turned it, armies were made up of a lot of people that you wouldn¡¯t be devastated to lose, at least from a more callous and strategic perspective. The dwellers didn¡¯t have a lot of those, judging by what Hanna had seen so far.


    This meant that not many thought the kingdom had come in order to stamp out a growing threat. The leading explanation was that they wanted something from them, and the dwellers only had one thing that sat them apart. The million-dollar question was if they wanted to annex the dwellers, or if they would be content draining them dry on the knowledge they had gathered.


    A few hours later, Elsa returned to the room. Nobody had left it, despite the dinner being over since long. She looked shaken and defeated.


    ¡°Friends, I have some bad news. The queen has demanded we submit to her rule. As I think you can all agree, we don¡¯t have a lot of choice in this. I will depart immediately, and I have no clue when I will be back. I¡¯ve been allowed to bring a small guard with me, and I have their assurance that no harm will come to us as long as we peacefully submit.¡± Elsa¡¯s words set the rest of the room into animated discussion.


    ¡°We have no time for debate¡±, Elsa cut them off. ¡°Sort out the issue of leadership as you best see fit. I must leave now.¡±


    Hanna stood up with sudden inspiration. ¡°Let me come with you.¡±


    Elsa looked at her with surprise. ¡°You want to follow me? This could very well be rather dangerous¡±


    Hanna smiled. ¡°All the better. I think you¡¯ll find that I can pull my own weight.¡±


    ¡°And what will Birgitta think when you don¡¯t return?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, send a messenger or something. She¡¯ll understand. I want to see this kingdom for myself¡±


    Elsa considered her proposal for a moment. ¡°Deal. But you¡¯ll need to keep quiet about not being one of us. There is no reason to pull anyone else into this mess.¡±


    ¡°That works for me¡±, Hanna conceded with a feeling of elation. The answers she had been looking for wouldn¡¯t be found here, and the kingdom was her second-best chance at getting them. Following along with Elsa also meant that she finally got to learn a bit more of this world, and as much as she considered herself a countryside-girl, she longed for the pleasures of an actual city.


    She and Elsa left the dinner and headed to the antechamber where the envoys waited along with the guards that would be following them on the trip.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± A man asked with a sleazy voice as soon as they entered the room. He stood in stark contrast to everyone else, being the only one with actual colour on his clothes. Hanna had barely noticed before, but everyone she had met since waking up in the valley had been dressed in clothes that was uncoloured, shades of grey and brown being the only variation between garments. This man was wearing clothes that seemed to be made of cotton, and was uniformly a deep blue, with little details of gold here and there. Compared to her standards before she woke up in the valley, he didn¡¯t look fancy at all. But here, where everyone was forced to dress in what was at hand or what was easy to repair, he looked practically royal.


    The man noticed her gawking and gave her a look full of disdain.


    ¡°If your guards can tear themselves from my beautiful face and everyone is present, then I suggest we leave at once. The queen does not appreciate tardiness¡±.


    Without waiting for an answer, he snapped some orders to his men and set off. Hanna noticed that a few of them made sure to walk behind them, boxing them in. All of the envoy¡¯s guards were dressed in heavy plate, and every single one of them was equipped with swords and shields. They all stood straight and quiet, not moving at all unless they were specifically ordered to do so. The kingdom seemed to value discipline.


    During the walk out into the ruins, Hanna spent her time thinking about how she would fight people with heavy armour. Anyone she had faced so far had been wearing none or very light armour, practically making it a non-issue. She wondered if she would be able to cut through the plate, or if she would be forced to target the few spots of their body that wasn¡¯t plated. Hanna liked her brawn-based fighting style and didn¡¯t like the prospect of having to actually look for weaknesses in her opponents. Maybe she should just get a weapon heavy enough to punch through the plate and be done with it?


    The group reached ground-level and then kept walking for a couple of minutes in the ruins, until they reached an open area where a lot more guards were. Soldiers, Hanna corrected herself, seeing the ordered structure of their camp and the banners they were flying. This was an actual military unit with proper training, something Hanna hadn¡¯t seen since before the valley. The whole reason that the village had come out alive from the fight with the Wolves were their inability to work as a cohesive unit. She highly doubted they would have fared as well against these guys.


    With the village¡¯s lack of horses, Hanna had been half expecting that they would be walking the entire distance, but to her delight she found that not only did the kingdom have horses, they even had carts that were pulled by them. The envoys return to the camp set the soldiers in a flurry of motions, and they dismantled the camp and loaded everything up on the carts with an efficiency that made Hanna nostalgic of her time in the army. It wasn¡¯t long until Elsa, Hanna and the four guards that came with them was ordered into one of the carts. Elsa looked a bit bothered by the unfriendly attitude, but Hanna didn¡¯t care and just planted her ass in the comfy seats of the carriage, thankful that she wouldn¡¯t have to walk. Leaning back into her seat, Hanna breathed out with satisfaction. This is surely the transportation of the future.

 Chapter 27 – A taste of the wider world

    Hanna¡¯s satisfaction with her mode of transportation died out after only a day spent bumping around inside of a stuffy carriage. The worst part of it was how mindlessly dull it was, just sitting there. Elsa and her four guards were interesting enough to chat with, but Elsa proved reluctant to open up in front of her subordinates and Hanna soon felt like she¡¯d had enough. There was only so much you could talk about, and the only breaks they took where a short stop for lunch and then when they stopped for the night. Hanna was kind of hoping for someone to attack them just so they would have something to do, but nothing happened. Not surprising, since attacking a full unit of heavy armoured cavalry would be tantamount to suicide.


    They spent their nights sleeping together in a large tent that was skilfully pitched for them each evening by a group of soldiers. Hanna was searching everywhere for something to amuse herself with during the trip and found inspiration during the second time they stopped for the night. Elsa spent about an hour writing every evening, and the paper she used was stiff and thick enough that it might as well be cardboard. It took quite a lot of insistent begging from Hanna, but eventually Elsa gave up and let her use some of it. It was the first time that Hanna used the feather and ink that Elsa wrote with, and the end result was far from pretty. Hanna was still satisfied with her work: a set of ugly, uneven but for all purposes fully usable deck of cards.


    The dwellers she was traveling with must have been just as bored as she was, because they jumped at the chance of some stimuli the following day. It made the long hours in the carriage a lot more bearable, just not enough for Hanna to stop feeling like she could punch herself in the face to simply get some variation. On the third time that they stopped for the night, Hanna ventured out into the camp with a goal. Listening for the tell-tale sounds of metal striking metal, she soon found what she was looking for. A group of soldiers were standing in a ring, cheering on the two guys that where fighting in the middle. Hanna guessed that they were using dulled swords since they were striking at each other with abandon.


    One of the fighters were a little taller than the other, while the shorter one was a bit faster. It was a rather even fight, and the sweat in their faces showed that they had been at it for a while. They fought with a different style than what Birgitta had taught her, not moving a lot and using short swings intermixed with thrusts. Hanna theorized that it was because they were used to fighting in tight formation, where there wasn¡¯t a lot of room for movement. Eventually the shorter guy wasn¡¯t as quick anymore, giving the taller one enough time to score a solid hit against his ribs. The looser raised his arm in the air, likely to signify that he admitted his defeat, causing a mixture of cheers and protests from the onlookers. Money changed hands, which piqued Hanna¡¯s interest. She had originally only been looking for someone to spar with, but this was way better. It would totally suck to finally be in a proper city without any coin to spend in it.


    ¡°Mind if I join?¡± Hanna asked when the commotion after the fight had died down a little.


    Everyone turned around in surprise, having been too occupied with the fight to notice her presence.


    ¡°Betting or fighting?¡± One of the onlookers asked. He didn¡¯t have any symbols on him to signify that he was in charge. Hanna thought she recognized him as one of the guys that had come with the envoy. That probably gave him some sort of status.


    ¡°Fighting¡±, Hanna said with certainty, perhaps sounding a bit cocky.


    The man regarded her for a second. ¡°You can join¡±, he agreed. ¡°The rules are simple, we fight until blood or solid hits, glancing strikes doesn¡¯t count¡±. Hanna nodded and began limbering up.


    ¡°Who¡¯s up taking her on?¡± The man asked to the crowd. A man of comparable height to the tall one that had fought earlier stepped forward, cheered on by the rest of the soldiers.


    ¡°My name is Gustav. What is yours?¡± He asked without much formality.


    ¡°Hanna¡±, Hanna responded and gave him a wave.


    The man that had agreed to let her fight handed her a blunted sword and began taking notes of the bets. Hanna dropped her equipment, making a sizable pile by her feet. She debated for a moment if she should use her shield but decided against it. She kept entering fights without a shield anyway, it was probably time she began practicing a style that didn¡¯t depend on it. She spent the rest of the downtime familiarizing herself with the sword, giving it a few swings. It was pretty similar to her own, the centre of balance might be a bit further out down the blade but that was it.


    With the betting over with, they stepped into the ring and the guy organizing the fight gave them the go to start.


    Hanna stood still at first, wanting to see what her opponent would do. He repositioned himself ever so slightly, and Hanna mirrored his move in the opposite direction, keeping the distance.


    ¡°Come on new girl, show him how it¡¯s done!¡± Someone shouted, surprising Hanna. She had figured everyone would be betting on their friend but apparently not. Perhaps it was the potential winnings that had lured him over.


    Hanna and Gustav continued circling each other. Hanna studied him carefully. She would prefer if she could win this without showing neither her strength nor her healing. Eventually Gustav seemed to have grown tired of waiting for her to make the first move, quickly closing the distance between them with the short steps of a boxer, finishing the motion with a thrust towards her stomach. Hanna was ready for him and stepped to the side, batting his sword away for good measure.


    He tried catching her off-balance by quickly following up with a bash from his shield. Hanna let him hit her, following along with the force from the blow to spin around and strike him in the back with her sword. The collision gave a meaty sound and sent him stumbling a few steps. Hanna grimaced, that was a bit more force than she had been planning to use. Keeping her strength in check was easier said than done when she was so much stronger that the average bloke.


    Once Gustav had regained his footing he admitted his defeat without any fuss, causing a bunch of groans from the onlookers except for that one guy that had betted on her and now was whooping happily, collecting his winnings.


    ¡°That was a risky move, something I would advice against in an actual battle¡±, Gustav told her, stretching his back a bit to fight the stiffness from her blow.


    Hanna just shrugged, unsure how to explain to him that it wasn¡¯t a problem for her without telling him about her healing.


    ¡°This is your cut¡±, The man who had organized the fight said and handed her a few coins. Then he turned towards the rest of the soldiers. ¡°Who¡¯s up next?¡±


    Hanna stayed until there was no more time for further fights. She didn¡¯t risk her money in any bets since she didn¡¯t know who to bet on, but she competed in two more fights and won one of them. Her opponents had been a lot more careful after her first fight, and after the second time she had won, there hadn¡¯t been anyone who was eager to fight her. When it became apparent that no one wanted to challenge her, the guy organizing the fights had stepped forward, causing great excitement among the onlookers. Hanna guessed that he was the most skilled among them and that he didn¡¯t normally participate. The fact that he had her on the ground in just a few moves gave credit to this and Hanna had no choice but to accept defeat. He wasn¡¯t too smug about it and even offered a hand to help her up.


    Hanna kept joining the fighters every night and eventually she found that she was quite content with the routine of the journey. Between chitchatting over games of card and sparring with the soldiers, it really wasn¡¯t too bad. By the end of the eleventh day, small settlements began popping up along the road that they travelled, surrounded by fields of what looked like wheat and barley. The number of buildings grew over the day and by evening the carriers came to a halt outside of a tall wall, signifying that the trip was finally over.


    Hanna leaned out of the glassless window on their carriage to get a better look. Aside from the envoy and a single soldier following his every step, none other had dismounted. Hanna smiled as she saw the envoy gesticulate wildly, apparently infuriated by something at the gate. Elsa had told her that his name was Count Edwin Altman. It was a name that made Hanna assume that the person was both stuck-up and pampered, suiting him just fine. Hanna had promised herself to mispronounce his title as often as she could get away with.


    The handwaving went on for a couple of minutes before the envoy mounted his horse with a flushed face and the carriage began moving again. The streets inside of the walls were busy and they inched their way forward at a snail¡¯s pace. It was weird seeing streets full of traffic without a single car in sight. The total lack of order was probably the biggest cause of it, with people crossing the streets as they pleased and plenty of entrepreneurial minds that saw no problem at all with setting up shop in the middle of the road. The road that they travelled on cut through the city without a single bend, in stark contrast to the haphazard layout of the smaller streets that connected to it. The buildings that they passed looked well maintained. None was particularly tall, the biggest she saw was what appeared to be a three-storied inn.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    For all the negativity she had heard about the kingdom, Hanna thought that its inhabitants looked healthy enough. Apart from the occasional beggar, most were dressed in colourful clothing and navigated the busy streets without any apparent sorrow. It all looked a bit too good to be true, making Hanna suspect that what she was seeing was members of the middle class or higher. There was no way this kind of prosperity came without someone suffering for it.


    Something worrying that she noticed was that practically no one was gawking at their military progression, telling her that this was something too common to be worth looking at. Given that the warriors on the horses around her alone was enough to reduce the village to rubble, the military forces of the kingdom must be something quite formidable.


    After the better part of an hour they came upon another wall. The guards at this gate was probably informed of their arrival since they waved them through without much hassle. The streets were practically empty on the other side of the wall and the myriad of houses were swapped for open spaces and a few posher buildings nestled among patches of greenery. Not far ahead of them stood a proper castle. It didn¡¯t have a moat, but it sported an artificial lake surrounding half of the castle. It had a portcullis that opened as they approached it and then closed behind them as the progression came to a halt on a courtyard. The soldiers dismounted as one and began unloading the carriages, kids running out from nowhere to tend to the horses.


    Edwin was waiting for them as Hanna, Elsa and her guards disembarked.


    ¡°Come with me.¡± He ordered with dead eyes. His tone made it clear that there wasn¡¯t much choice in the matter.


    They began walking but was immediately stopped by Edwin who thrusted his palm towards them. ¡°What do you think you are doing?¡±


    ¡°Coming with you?¡± Hanna replied.


    ¡°Of course, you can¡¯t bring your guards to a private meeting with the queen.¡± Edwin said to Elsa, ignoring Hanna despite the fact she was standing right in front of him. Hanna didn¡¯t know what it was that was so fucking ¡®of course¡¯ about it, but Elsa behaved as if she knew and had just not thought about it.


    ¡°What about us?¡± Hanna asked.


    ¡°Talk to my quartermaster, he will get you some lodging¡±, Edwin answered with a sour face, walking away with Elsa in tow.


    Hanna knew the quartermaster. It was the guy that had arranged the fights that first night and then subsequently had beaten her to the ground. Hanna had fought him a couple of time since her loss but still hadn¡¯t managed to even the score. She had spent some time with him when she wasn¡¯t fighting and she liked him well enough. His name was Kurt, and as far as she could tell, he was an honest man that had mastered the balancing act of staying kind and human despite working in a machinery tasked with killing people. She took the lead and sought him out.


    They had to wait in line just to talk to him. As the quartermaster, Kurt was the one in charge of making sure everything was taken care of after the journey. He had a steady stream of soldiers to bark orders at until he was finally free to meet them.


    ¡°Hey Kurt!¡± Hanna said as the last soldier departed.


    ¡°Sorry about the wait. What can I help you with Hanna?¡± Kurt asked, pulling a hand through his short hair.


    ¡°Accommodations. Edwin said that you could get us some¡±


    ¡°Count Edwin¡±, he corrected her.


    ¡°My bad.¡± Hanna held her hands up, palms front. ¡°Cunt Edwin said that you could help us¡±, she continued with a mischievous smile.


    Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. ¡°I would advice you against saying that again, in case the wrong person hear you.¡±


    Hanna held up her palms towards him, still smiling. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are talking about.¡±


    ¡°Look, Hanna¡±, Kurt said with a tired voice. ¡°You might just be kidding around, but believe me, the count does not take well to insults. Neither does the queen, and an insult to her count is in effect an insult to her¡±, he added as an afterthought.


    ¡°Whatever man. Can you help us or not?¡±


    Kurt sighed. ¡°I can help you. I have a room for you, but you¡¯ll have to share it with your friends.¡±


    The room they got was normally used for soldiers in transfer. It was by no means fancy, just the bare necessities and a thin mattress each. Hanna called dibs on a bed and stashed her backpack under it. The soldier in her worried about whether it would pass inspection, but that might not even be a thing here, and even if it was, they weren¡¯t even subjects of the kingdom to begin with. The others made themselves comfortable and began a game of cards. Hanna was amazed that they would do that rather than head out into the city but whatever. They might feel like they had a duty to stick around if Elsa needed them or something. She wasn¡¯t exactly keen on them following with her anyway, eleven days stuck together in that small carriage was about as much as Hanna could stomach.


    She waved them goodbye and headed out, feeling a bit naked without her crossbow and her spear. She had considered bringing all her stuff with her but figured that it might look a bit provocative. She would just have to make do with her two knives and her sword.


    A problem that Hanna hadn¡¯t considered was how she would get in and out of the castle. The guy manning the portcullis refused to open it without a writ of passage, forcing Hanna to get one first. Figuring Kurt might help her, she went back to the carriages that were still being unloaded in the courtyard.


    ¡°Back again?¡± Kurt asked her, not lifting his eyes from a scroll he was reading.


    ¡°Yep. Turns out I need a ¡®writ of passage¡¯. You don¡¯t happen to have one laying around?¡±


    Kurt studied her for a second. ¡°Reason for leaving?¡± He asked with a business-like voice.


    ¡°I was hoping to find some nice piece of ass¡±, Hanna answered and winked at him. His cheeks flushed.


    ¡°I¡¯ll uh, write that as ¡®rest and recreation.¡¯¡± He said, clearing his throat.


    ¡°Sure¡±.


    ¡°That¡¯ll be ten crowns¡±, he said after finishing scribbling something on a piece of paper.


    Hanna glared at him. ¡°Ten crowns for a piece of paper?¡± She asked with feigned indignation. She didn¡¯t even know if that was expensive or not. ¡°I don¡¯t have a lot of coin, you know?¡±


    ¡°Bullocks. You¡¯ve earned that amount in just one of your fights. Cough it up, everyone pays if they want the writ.¡±


    Hanna grumbled a bit just for the show of it while she counted out the coins. It wasn¡¯t hard figuring out their worth since they were clearly labelled with numbers. She hadn¡¯t counted how much coins she had. Going by weight alone she probably had around eight times the amount left.


    Writ in hand she went back to the portcullis, which was opened without protest once the guard saw the piece of paper. A nice stroll later on the empty and posh street, the whole process was repeated once again until she was finally out in the actual city. Hanna carefully folded the writ and stashed it in a pocket on her armour. Knowing herself, she would lose it in minutes otherwise. The cacophony that met her once she stepped through that second gate reminded her of a trip she had taken to India. Being on foot outside of that stuffy carriage, the smells and sounds of the packed streets was on a whole other level. As someone who had grown up on the countryside, it was mind-boggling that people could live in this chaos. Hanna stood there for a while, unsure where to go. A proper bar was probably a good bet. Preferably someplace on the seedier side, since that would make her coin last longer and usually was way more fun.


    Looking around, she found a street vendor not far away. The people crowding the stall wore colourful clothing, but they were far less vibrant than what the royal cunt wore. Hanna stepped up to one of them, a balding man with a sizeable beer-gut that was munching on something that looked fat and salty.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Hanna asked, knowing full well that he wouldn¡¯t understand her.


    The man looked up into the sky, then back towards her. He seemed confused. ¡°What?¡± He asked after having forced down a mouthful of food.


    ¡°What¡¯s a fun place to get a drink around here?¡±


    The man wasn¡¯t really keeping up, staring blankly at her for a good ten seconds. ¡°Three barrels ¡®s all right, if you can handle a bit of rowdiness¡±. He looked her over, his eyes lingering on her weapons. ¡°You look as if you¡¯ll fit right in tough¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see. Where is it?¡±


    Hanna thanked the man and set off, doing her best to not forget the instructions. Finding the place wasn¡¯t too hard, a five-minute walk and a couple of turns among the narrow backstreets was all it took until she saw the worn-down sign she had been looking for, three barrels depicted with the paint flaying at its edges. The stench of urine and the passed-out man laying by the entrance told her everything she needed to know about the establishment.


    The atmosphere inside wasn¡¯t as lively as she had expected it to be. Someone was playing a stringed instrument and a lot of people were eating dinner while talking animatedly. It wasn¡¯t dull or quiet, Hanna had just expected a constantly ongoing barfight and people swinging from chandeliers. Joining the crowd that surrounded the bartender, Hanna managed to get herself an ale in quick order. She spent an hour like that, sipping her ale and eavesdropping on the people around her. It was nice to be anonymous for once and just sit back and take it easy.


    By the end of her third ale, Hanna noticed a discussion that was different from the rest of the gossiping that took place around her. A young kid looked scared and tried to get away from a man and a woman who made sure that he wasn¡¯t getting anywhere. They seemed angry and looked as if they weren¡¯t unaccustomed to acting on that anger. It really wasn¡¯t any of Hanna¡¯s business, but two against one seemed a bit unfair when the kid was barely enough for one of them. Plus that Hanna was honestly growing a bit tired of just sitting around. When the duo eventually dragged the kid outside, Hanna downed the last of her ale and followed.


    ¡°You brought this on yourself¡±, Hanna heard the man say. The woman had the kid pinned against the wall with a firm grip around his throat. The man was cracking his knuckles.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get the money¡±, the kid squeezed out, struggling for air.


    ¡°Sure you will. After we have made it clear what happens when you don¡¯t¡± The man threatened. The woman dropped the kid, who looked hopeful and relieved for a full second until he was hit in the stomach by the woman.


    ¡°Guys!!¡± Hanna called, making both of them turn around. ¡°I think he got the message¡±


    ¡°Mind your own business¡±, the man growled.


    Hanna shook her head. ¡°Nah, this looks like fun¡±


    The man exchanged a look with his comrade, who gave him a short nod in return.


    ¡°Looks like I¡¯ll have to teach you who rules these street¡±, the man said, sounding clich¨¦ enough for Hanna to chuckle. He walked up to Hanna, throwing a punch in a wide swing that a blind person could have seen coming. Hanna stepped to the side and punched him hard in his ribcage.


    Her punch took him of his feet and threw him into the wall. The woman only looked mildly intrigued by Hanna¡¯s punch. She turned away from the kid, who took his chance and bolted.


    ¡°That was quite the punch¡±, the woman commented, with a voice that sounded as if she had been smoking a couple of packets a day since forever. ¡°Normally I¡¯d just whop your ass and be done with it, but you look like you might be of use¡­¡±


    Hanna smiled cockily. ¡°Whatever you have in mind, I think I¡¯ll be content just beating you up¡±, she said and threw herself at the woman, intent on finishing this quickly. When the woman stepped out of the way, Hanna was just annoyed. But then she noticed herself toppling over, from what must have been a quick jab to the chin that she hadn¡¯t seen coming at all. Hanna¡¯s annoyance turned into fury when the woman promptly flipped her on her stomach and pinned her down, expertly tying her hands and feet with some rope that she produced from gods know where. When a bag was thrown over her head, Hanna was just stumped. This had not gone as she expected at all.

 Chapter 28 – Mad eyes

    Hanna flopped around for a while like a magicarp on top of the woman¡¯s shoulder. It didn¡¯t do shit for her and made her feel outright silly, but you got to try right? The rest of the trip she just hung there limply, trying to fight back her growing motion sickness.  She could get sick rather easily and having a bag over her head wasn¡¯t helping. After maybe ten minutes of bouncing around and forcing herself not to puke, Hanna was unceremoniously tossed on the ground, getting the air knocked out of her.


    ¡°Who is she?¡± Someone asked, an older man by the sound of his voice.


    ¡°Some asshole who stuck her nose where it didn¡¯t belong¡±, answered the woman who had carried Hanna. Her voice was easily distinguishable with its jazz-worthy touch of gravel.


    ¡°Where is¡­ what¡¯s his name again?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. This fucker took him out with a single punch so I left him there. If he makes it back, he makes it back. I don¡¯t have the patience to pamper every little wannabe who think he have what it takes.¡±


    The man sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll send someone to pick him up¡±. He had a tired voice. ¡°Look Greta, we take care of our own, you know this¡±


    ¡°That may be, but I don¡¯t count people who get their ass handed to them like that as ¡®one of us¡¯. You know this.¡± Her last three words were said with a mocking tone.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± The man said with exasperation. ¡°I¡¯m writing this down as insubordination. The boss will hear about this.¡±


    ¡°Whatever¡±


    Hanna thought she could almost here the man scribbling furiously, but it might be her imagination. She was growing tired of not being able to see anything.


    ¡°What are you planning to do with her?¡± The man asked after a while, presumably when he was done writing.


    ¡°Way I see it, she has a debt to settle. What better way to do it then in the ring?¡±


    ¡°I doubt she will survive long, she doesn¡¯t look all that though to me¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see. She did throw one hell of a punch though.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll put her up in the next fight¡±, the man said and Hanna was once again hoisted onto someone¡¯s shoulder. Judging by the similar sensation, it was probably the woman again.


    ¡°But this is the last time you pull something like this Greta!¡± The man warned.


    Greta was already walking away. A shift in her posture made Hanna imagine that she had given him the finger.


    The next time she could see again, Hanna was in cell. Greta was standing in front of her with her hood in hand, looking down at her. Hanna was still bound tightly around her hands and feet. She felt pathetic laying there on the ground like a worm while Greta studied her.


    ¡°Do you remember how easily I took you down in the alley?¡±


    ¡°You could try it again and she how that works out for you¡±, Hanna answered with false bravado. It probably didn¡¯t sound very credible coming from someone who was essentially as threatening as a rolled-up rug. Even unfettered, Hanna wouldn¡¯t stand much of a chance, but there was no way she¡¯d be admitting that.


    Greta laughed. ¡°I like your spunk but I think we both know how that would turn out. I¡¯m not normally this gentle. I¡¯m getting old.¡±  The woman sat down on her hunches, looking Hanna in the eye from just a couple of decimetres away. ¡°That¡¯s why I will be very clear with you¡±, she said with a hint of steel in her voice. ¡°Try any shit and you¡¯ll regret it. It will cost you an arm at least¡±.


    The woman sounded like she meant business and Hanna nodded with as much dignity as she could muster, not wanting to push her luck.


    ¡°Good girl¡±, Greta said. Then she pulled a knife from her boot and cut Hanna free, clearly on guard for any sudden movements. Hanna made sure not to move a muscle while the woman slowly backed out of the cell and closed the door.


    ¡°Someone will come and get you by the evening. You will be fighting in our arena. If you survive, there will be food after¡±.


    Hanna was confused. Being kidnapped and made to fight in an arena ought to have made her furious, but the woman hadn¡¯t caused her any unnecessary harm and was so business-like in her demeanour that Hanna was unable to get worked-up over it. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to get her thoughts in order.


    ¡°Who are you people?¡± Was what she ended up saying.


    ¡°That¡¯s none of your goddamn business¡±, Greta said. Then she flashed a crooked smile. ¡°Don¡¯t go anywhere¡±


    Hanna watched the woman walk away, and then she looked around, trying to take in her surroundings. The cell she was in was all metal bars, the door included. The larger room had many cells just like her own lining the walls. Hanna judged that there were maybe fifty cells in there, with people in around half of them. The room was dimly lit by a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling. As soon as Greta closed the door behind her, Hanna turned to the closest inhabited cell. It was three cells over from her. It was an annoying distance, close enough to make talking viable, yet far enough that you had to kind of shout to be heard.


    ¡°Hey buddy!¡± Hanna called. She got virtually zero reaction from the huddled body that was laying on the floor. Perhaps he was dead.


    ¡°Oi!¡± Hanna shouted, a lot louder this time. Some guard might hear her, but she figured it can¡¯t look to suspicious if people in the cells just tried talking to each other.


    ¡°Shut up, newbie!¡± The response came without any movement from the body. It sounded like a rather old guy.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± Hanna soldiered on.


    ¡°Fuck off! There is no use talking to you, you¡¯ll be dead in a couple of hours anyway.¡°


    ¡°The hell I will!¡± Hanna snapped. ¡°Now are you going to talk to me properly, or do I have to keep annoying you?¡±


    The man pointedly ignored her, so Hanna made good on her threat. They had stripped her of all her weapons, but she was still wearing her armour. She banged her plated wrist against the bars of her cell. It gave a laud clang, causing Hanna to smile. This would do just fine. It took her maybe five minutes of bashing her arm like a lunatic against the bars until the man began groaning, and another five until he finally caved in.


    ¡°Okay! Just stop that fucking noise. It¡¯s annoying as hell!¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t blame me, you brought this on yourself¡±


    The man sighed deeply. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°A lot. Like where we are, who you are, how you ended up here, why we are being kept¡­¡±


    ¡°I get it!¡±, the man interrupted her. ¡°Geez, can¡¯t you just like, chill?


    ¡°Nope.¡± Hanna said, quite pleased with herself. ¡°Answers, or I get back to being annoying¡±.


    ¡°Youths these days¡­¡± The man grumbled. ¡°Well, the name is Fritjof and I¡¯ve been here for gods know how long. Back in the days, I used to guard caravans, was quite good at it too. Then one day it turned out I wasn¡¯t good enough. The caravan was robbed, most died, and I found myself in this fancy cell. Have been here ever since.¡± The man was quiet for a while. ¡°It¡¯s not too bad a life to be honest. Excitement in the evenings, plenty of sleep in between. If only the food weren¡¯t so bad I¡¯d even claim to enjoy it.¡±


    ¡°So what, they just bring you to fights and nothing else? What for?¡± Hanna asked. It seemed like a bit of a waste to just let people sit here and fester between fights.


    ¡°Why do people do anything lass?¡± The man asked with a tired voice. ¡°For money of course.¡± He filled in, answering his own question.


    ¡°And our captors, who are they?¡± Hanna asked, her question causing the man to finally move from his prone position, turning to look at her with disbelief.


    ¡°You honestly can¡¯t tell? Who but the thief¡¯s guild could run this sort of operation on their home turf?¡±


    It was the first time Hanna heard of them. It shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise that a large city had a criminal organisation working behind the scenes. It just sounded too much like a computer game for her to believe it.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Okay¡±, Hanna said. ¡°To summarize, we are being held by the thief¡¯s guild as some sort of slaves, and are forced to fight in an arena just so they can earn money on bets?¡±


    ¡°Nailed it.¡± Fritjof snorted.


    ¡°Alright. How do we get out?¡±


    The man laughed loudly, which soon turned into a painful cough. ¡°What kind of stupid question is that?¡± he said when he had recovered enough. ¡°I just told you that we are being held by the thief¡¯s guild. There is no getting out, they own this city.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that. I¡¯m getting out of here, one way or another. Do you want to follow me or not when I do?¡±


    Fritjof waved her off. ¡°Sure¡±, he said. ¡°We can hitch a ride on a flying pig and just sail away into the lands of rainbows and happiness¡±


    ¡°Keep doing your thing then, your loss¡±, Hanna answered surly. Their conversation died there, and Fritjof seemingly went back to sleep or whatever it was that he had been doing before. Hanna took a good look at the bars. They didn¡¯t seem that sturdy. She grabbed two of them and tried to pull them apart. They moved a little, just not enough to actually bend. It was a promising start though, she could probably bend them if she were to push against them using her whole body. That would have to wait until later. It would be a shame if she tried escaping too early and ended up caught again with only reinforced bars to show for it.


    The seconds in the cell ticked by in slow motion. Hanna had enough time to get bored to a point where walking in circles felt stimulating, and then enough time to be bored by that as well. She shadowboxed for a while but had trouble getting into it. This kind of under-stimulation was absolute torture to Hanna, and it was with relief that she eventually heard the door open. Two women walked into the room, by the looks of their armour and swords they were probably some kind of guards.


    ¡°Hands out!¡± One of them commanded. Hanna recognized the drill from movies she had seen and stuck her hands out between the bars without complaint. They bound them expertly and then opened the door to her cell.


    ¡°This way¡±, said the same woman as before and started walking. The other woman took the rear-point and something sharp poked Hanna¡¯s back, probably the second woman¡¯s sword. They were running a tight ship, not surprising if they had been doing this for ages. The three of them left through the door and ended up in a narrow corridor. It was lined with more doors which were ignored by her guards until they came upon the ninth door on the right, Hanna carefully noted. If she was going to make a run for it later, she needed to know as much as possible about the layout of the place. On the other side of the door the corridor continued on for maybe thirty meters, but this section of the corridor had no more doors, except for a single, huge one at the far end. The woman who had done the talking opened it, revealing a huge open area.


    ¡°Almost forgot. Helmets are not allowed¡±, she said and removed Hanna¡¯s leather cap. The woman¡¯s eyes flashed in surprise. ¡°What¡¯s up with your head?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long story¡±, Hanna answered with a tired voice.


    ¡°Well, you look ugly as fuck¡±, the leading woman concluded as she cut open the rope that tied Hanna¡¯s hands together. Hanna considered for a moment if she should just throw caution to the wind and bash the asshole¡¯s face in.


    ¡°You¡¯re meant to go through the door, stupid¡±, the second woman growled and pushed harder against Hanna¡¯s back with her sword.


    Hanna rolled her eyes. ¡°Yeah I got that. What about weapons?¡±


    She didn¡¯t get any reply, at least not a verbal one. What she did get was a hard kick in the back, sending her through the door. Hanna ended up with her face planted in the sand to the backdrop of a lot of people roaring with laughter.


    Hanna ignored the laughter and focused on spitting out sand from her mouth and clearing her eyes from all the dirt. As she slowly got to her feet, the crowd turned silent around her.


    ¡°You all know how this works¡±, some promoter shouted across the arena. ¡°We have a new girl today, fresh off the streets. Rumour has it that she has a nasty punch. We¡¯ll see if it will be enough to survive against good old Mad-eye!¡±


    Hanna stood up and looked around the arena. It was circular, maybe fifty meters in diameter, with a tall wall surrounding it. Above the wall were many rows of seats, all filled to the brim with people cheering.


    ¡°Of course, her opponent needs no introduction. He has proven time and time again just how vicious he can be. Place your bets people!¡±


    Hanna checked her opponent out. He was standing on the far side of the circle, looking laid-back and unbothered.


    ¡°All right, no more betting folks, the time is up. Let the fight begin!¡±


    As soon as the signal was given by the promoter, Hanna¡¯s opponent ran straight towards her. It was hard sizing him up as he was running. He looked like a normal dude of average build. Hanna jumped a little on the spot, trying to get into her zone. When he was maybe ten meters away from her, she put her guard up in a mix between the stances used in boxing and Wing Chun. Just as her hands came up, her opponent leaped at her, covering a distance that no human should be able to manage. Hanna was too shocked to strike him, she barely managed to step out of the way.


    Mad-eye wasn¡¯t fazed by his miss, he just rolled on the ground and was back on his feet in a heartbeat. Hanna stepped up to him and tried a hook to his jaw. He nimbly dodged under it, making her punch air. Then he tackled her from his crouched position, throwing her to the ground with his legs pinning her down. His right fist came down, hitting her hard on her nose. Something broke and her eyes teared. Hanna blinked through the pain. She was bleeding somewhere.


    Another punch followed the first, and then they just kept coming. Between the hits, Hanna got a good look at his eyes and immediately understood the moniker. They looked inhuman and frenzied. This guy was not right in the head.


    The next punch landed in her mouth and Hanna panicked as she felt what must have been teeth knocked off. The panic gave her strength and focus, and she managed a sloppy swing at his ribcage. It knocked him off her, and Hanna hurried to her feet. Mad-eye seemed a bit dazed by the punch. Hanna¡¯s face burned like crazy and her right eye was a bit swollen. She spat out whatever was in her mouth but saw only a large glob of blood. Then the respite was over, and her opponent was charging her again.


    This time she was ready. She stood still and awaited the tackle that was telegraphed, trying to not look too obvious about it. When he ran at her in a reprise of his earlier move, she grabbed his head and kneed him as hard as she could in the face. Her knee made a disgusting sound as it met its target and turned what ought to be a face into a bloody mess. Her opponent fell limply to the ground. Hanna breathed out in relief. That had been brutal. She wanted to touch her face but dreaded what she would find. All around her, the crowd that had been in turmoil slowly turned silent. Hanna turned around to see what was going on.


    Behind her, Mad-eye was slowly starting to stand up. Hanna couldn¡¯t believe her eyes. His face was absolutely destroyed, there should be no way that he was moving after that. And yet there he stood, in pain and struggling for breath, but standing firmly on his own two feet. The sight sent shivers along her spine. He looked like he was something straight out of a horror movie. Mad-eye had both his hands stretched out towards her, and came ever closer with slow, struggling steps like a shambling zombie. The crowd were going wild, chanting his name in ecstasy.


    When he was close enough to almost reach her, Hanna kicked him hard in his kneecap. It caved in and his leg bent the wrong way. She did her best not to look at it. Mad-eye fell over, but in his fall, he managed to latch on to her armour with his hands. The unexpected weight caused her to join him and they ended up entangled in the sand. Hanna was caught off guard by his unrelenting struggle. She grabbed his hands, trying to force them away from her, but he held on with an iron grip. Somewhere back in her mind, she realized that the paralyzing fear that ruled her was illogical, he was moving slowly and was barely alive. Despite this, he was inch by inch pulling himself closer to her, his jaw opened wide as it moved towards her throat.


    The fucker is honestly trying to bite me!


    The realisation made her snap out of her daze and she snaked her arm around him, grabbing his hair. For a second the two of them were caught in a gory version of a lovers-embrace. Then she won their brief contest of strength and forced his head back, fighting him for every inch. His head was bent backwards at a dangerous angle when she lost her grip, holding the major part of his scalp in her hand. His jaws clamped shut around her jugular and he tore ought a huge chunk of her flesh. Blood spurted and Hanna put as much pressure as she could on the wound. The seconds went by. Hanna felt her flesh begin knitting itself together under her hands. A quick look to her side told her that the fight was over, Mad-eye was on the ground next to her, passed out. The arena was silent, Hanna could practically see people craning their necks in an attempt to get a look at what had happened.


    She stayed on the ground for a few more seconds, trying to catch her breath. Then she rolled over to her stomach and stood up, only swaying slightly. Around her, the arena exploded into cheers.


    ¡°Can you believe it? What a fight people!¡± The promoter announced. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t see that coming!¡±


    Hanna felt cheesy but couldn¡¯t resist the moment. She raised her closed fist in a victorious pose, reinvigoration the cheers.


    ¡°I guess most of you will be walking home with slim purses, but who cares? Mad-eye, defeated by uh¡­¡± The promoter paused for a second. ¡°¡­ Defeated by Metalhead, and in her first fight to boot!


    Hanna cringed at the ridiculous name. She couldn¡¯t fault him though, she was a metalhead, both physically and in regard to her musical preferences. There were probably worse names out there. She stood there for a while, feeling a bit silly. Then the guards from before appeared. They were followed by two new faces, that dragged the unconscious Mad-eye away from the arena.


    ¡°Hands out¡±, one of the guards said stoically. Hanna thought it was the same one that had taken the lead before, but she couldn¡¯t really tell. Hanna complied none the less.


    ¡°That was unexpected¡±, the other guard commented while the first one bound Hanna¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Yeah, I feel the same¡±, Hanna said, feeling rather numb.


    ¡°It looked like he bit you, but I don¡¯t see the wound¡­¡±


    Hanna shook her head. ¡°Nah, he tried, he just didn¡¯t pierce the skin.¡± The last thing she wanted was for them to notice her powers. As far as it was possible, she wanted to save that surprise for later.


    The guard narrowed her eyes and studied Hanna carefully. ¡°I could have sworn that I saw him rip some flesh out¡±, she muttered. Then the other guard cut here off. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. It¡¯s back to the cell for you¡±.


    Back in her cell again, Hanna gingerly sat down on her bed and watched the two guards leave the room. She took a few heavy breaths, trying to get her bearings straight. If that was what a fight in the arena was, everything else she had experienced so far only amounted to kindergarten-kerfuffle¡¯s.


    Three cells over, Fritjof was standing up, looking at her.


    ¡°Survived huh? Wasn¡¯t expecting that¡±


    ¡°I was.¡± Hanna said. In hindsight, she might have been a bit overly optimistic.


    ¡°Sure thing, kiddo. What¡¯s up with your head? I don¡¯t remember your head being quite as shiny¡±


    ¡°None of your business¡±.


    Fritjof shrugged. ¡°Who did you face?¡±


    ¡°They called him ¡®Mad-eye¡¯¡±, Hanna said, feeling silly as she said it out loud. It was a name fit for something like Harry Potter, not actual conversations.


    Fritjof gave out a whistle. ¡°You fought old Mad-eye and lived? Guess I was wrong about you¡±


    ¡°Why, does he usually win?¡± Hanna asked.


    Fritjof grimaced. ¡°He usually wins, but that isn¡¯t the problem. It¡¯s that those he fights usually dies. The guy is unrelenting, bloodlust incarnate.¡±


    Hanna shivered once again as she remembered him getting to his feet, with a face more caved in than not.


    ¡°At the end, it was hard to think of him as human¡±, she said.


    Fritjof laughed bitterly. ¡°Not very surprising, kid. He isn¡¯t¡±.

 Chapter 29 – Infodump disguised as conversation

    ¡±What do you mean? Hanna asked.


    ¡°You heard me. The guy isn¡¯t human¡±, Fritjof said, picking his nails.


    ¡°You¡¯re making zero sense, old man¡±, Hanna growled.


    Fritjof rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. ¡°Look. You know of the clans, right? He is one of them. Or he is from one of them, rather.¡±


    Hanna gritted her teeth. ¡°Obviously, I don¡¯t know shit about them or we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation¡±.


    Fritjof studied her for a second. ¡°You¡¯re not pulling my leg? They are pretty famous where I come from¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never heard of them. Mind actually telling me?¡±


    ¡°Not sure how to sum it up for you.¡± Fritjof scratched his cheek. ¡°There are all kinds of them. They look human, but they are not. You¡¯ll meet a stray or two, but most of them live pretty far from here.


    Hanna perked her ears. Someone that looks human but isn¡¯t was a pretty apt description of herself. ¡°What sets them apart?¡±


    ¡°Hard to say, it could be anything really. Main thing is that they can¡¯t have kids unless they breed with their own kind and that they have some kind of quirk¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    Fritjof pondered for a bit. ¡°Well, take old Mad-eye. I don¡¯t know what clan he is from, but I¡¯ve seen him fight. I¡¯d say that his thing is some kind of frenzy that cuts him off from feeling pain and makes him rather¡­ single-minded about going for the kill¡±.


    Hanna nodded along. That sounded about right. It was nice to get some proper answers for once. Fritjof seemed a lot more willing to talk to her now that he didn¡¯t considered her dead meat walking.


    ¡°What about the other people in here?¡± Hanna asked. She had tried getting their attention before the fight, but they had pointedly ignored her and Hanna with a level of apathy that put Fritjof to shame.


    ¡°Forget about them. They have given up on themselves. They only move if it¡¯s to shit, eat or fight. Their spark is gone¡±.


    ¡°How did they get here?¡±


    Fritjof shrugged. ¡°Some might have pissed of the guild. I think most of them were simply bought¡±


    Hanna was bothered by that. It shouldn¡¯t surprise her given the medieval state of this world, but it just felt like something that everyone ought to be against. ¡°Is slavery legal?¡±


    Fritjof was intrigued by her question. ¡°You ask a lot of moronic questions, girl. Where are you from?¡±


    Hanna smiled. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me even if I told you. Is it legal or not?¡±


    Fritjof looked like he considered pressing the subject for a second before he dropped it. ¡°It¡¯s illegal. But it is kind of an open secret that the kingdom is run on the back of slaves. They wouldn¡¯t admit to it, but take a trip to one of their mines and you¡¯ll find a surprising amount of shackles and guards for an operation that is officially done by paid workers.¡±


    ¡°Then where do they get their slaves from?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the question, isn¡¯t it? Given how I ended up here, I¡¯d say the answer is pretty obvious. The kingdom is working with the many bandit groups that litter the area. Why else would they still be around? The kingdom isn¡¯t incompetent, nor is it lazy. Why would the bandits be allowed to roam if the kingdom aren¡¯t profiting from them?¡±


    Hanna considered that for a moment. She was definitely taking Josef down, and since he was working with the Wolves, they would have to go as well. If they were working with the kingdom, that complicated things. The village could build walls for an eternity, they still wouldn¡¯t stand a chance if they made an enemy out of the kingdom.


    ¡°What of the thief¡¯s guild, where do they fit in all of this?¡±, she asked.


    ¡°They are the middle man. Officially illegal of course. But this city wouldn¡¯t function without them. There are a lot of things that needs to be done that the queen doesn¡¯t want to be associated with. Do you think they could run a place like this without approval from the court?¡±


    Their conversation was interrupted by the door opening. A fat and squat man with dirty clothes shuffled through the doorway. He pushed a wagon in front of him with stacks of bowls on it, which he filled and pushed in between the bars in each cell. Hanna grabbed hers and studied it. It was barely warm and even calling it food was a bit of a stretch. It looked like it was scooped up from the side of the road.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Hanna asked with her nose crumpled up.


    ¡°Your dinner¡±, the fat man answered with a sadistic smile. ¡°Do you want a loogy in it?¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°Then quit complaining and start eating.¡±


    Hanna watched the man continue on to the other cells. She hesitantly stuck a finger in the slop and gave it a taste. It wasn¡¯t any better than it looked. She would need to ditch this place pretty soon.


    ¡°How come you aren¡¯t fighting?¡± She asked Fritjof when everyone had been served and the fat man had left again.


    ¡°They have a business to run. They aren¡¯t stupid enough to waste their best fighters if they don¡¯t need to. Do you think it was a coincidence that they put someone fresh off the streets against Mad-eye, one of the best and a fan favourite? You were meant to lose that fight girl. People like me, we only fight when they have promoted it and found someone to put me against that they wouldn¡¯t mind losing¡±


    Hanna looked at the guy a bit more closely. He was on the scrawny side and age had clearly marked him. ¡°I could take you down easily¡±, she boasted.


    ¡°Dream on, lass. I¡¯ve been kicking ass in this arena since before you were born. I¡¯ve won against meaner people than you.¡±


    ¡°Sure, but don¡¯t be fooled by my pretty face. I punch above my weight¡±


    Fritjof gave her a curious look. ¡°You are not human either, are you?¡±


    Hanna cursed silently. She had just wanted to banter a bit, not out her powers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you can be. Someone your age and size shouldn¡¯t stand a chance against Mad-eye. And I doubt a normal human would survive getting that metal head of yours.¡±


    ¡°Think what you want. I¡¯m leaving soon anyway¡±


    ¡°Do you honestly think you can pull it off?¡± Fritjof looked as if he was toying with the idea of believing her.


    ¡°I know I can. Are you thinking of joining?¡±


    He stood still for a full minute. ¡°You know what? Count me in. The food here isn¡¯t all that it¡¯s cranked up to be.¡±


    Hanna smiled. ¡°Awesome. We just need to iron some things out, like the way out and such¡±.


    ¡°I sort of know my way around this place after all these years. But I think you¡¯re getting ahead of yourself. We can¡¯t do shit until we find a way to get out of these cells.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    Hanna considered outing herself, then decided against it. She was already trusting the man too much by telling him of her plans to escape. Showing all her secrets at this early stage would just be plain stupid.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see when we make a run for it¡±


    Fritjof scoffed and crossed his arms. ¡°I wasn¡¯t born yesterday, girl. Either you put the cards on the table or I¡¯m out¡±.


    Hanna shrugged. ¡°Then stay here and rot. I don¡¯t care¡±


    ¡°Fine. Good luck finding your way out on your own. This place is a maze¡±, Fritjof said and made himself comfortable on his bed again.


    Hanna did the same, leaving him to sulk. Her face wasn¡¯t hurting anymore, and a session of tentatively examining it with her hands told her that everything seemed to be in order. The only thing that weren¡¯t were her teeth. She was missing a tooth and another was chipped. It was the first time that her body hadn¡¯t completely healed itself immediately after being injured. The question now was if it was because it couldn¡¯t, or if it just took more time to regrow whatever teeth were made of.


    Hanna awoke some time later, feeling rested. She must have dozed off without noticing it. In the middle of the room was the fat man again, his entry probably what had woken her. The bowl she got from him contained what she feared was the exact same slop that they got yesterday. Hanna sighed. The food was honestly her main motivator to get out of here.


    Watching the man do his trip around the room and then leave again, something caught her eye. There were a lot more bowls than there were people in the room. That ought to mean that there were other rooms like this one. Thinking back, she hadn¡¯t seen Mad-eye as they brought him to the arena. He probably came from another room like this one.


    ¡°Hey Fritjof?¡± She called.


    ¡°Yes, love?¡± Fritjof answered with an ironic voice.


    ¡°How many slaves are there?¡±


    ¡°In the world?¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, you know what I meant¡±


    Fritjof chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t know. I know there is another room like ours, but since ours is far from full, there is no telling how many are over there¡±.


    ¡°You think they are itching to leave?¡±


    Fritjof blew out air. ¡°Some might. I¡¯d guess that most are like our pathetic friends over here, content to just drone the time away between fights. Why bother with them?¡±


    ¡°Well, I figured it might me easier getting away if we had a bunch of battle-tested fighters to back us up¡±


    ¡°I thought you were some kind of hotshot. Now you want to bring the rabble along for the ride?¡± Fritjof laughed, then paused. ¡°You might have a point though, they could serve as a good distraction¡±


    The door to the room opened. It was the same two guards that had come yesterday. Hanna had her hands stuck out of the cell before they arrived.


    ¡°Would you look at that Frida? Some of them are actually capable of learning¡±, one of them commented. Hanna thought it was the one that had taken the rear yesterday.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°You must have pissed someone off, Hanna¡±, Fritjof called gleefully. ¡°They don¡¯t put you in fights during the day unless they really don¡¯t mind you dying. Day-fights aren¡¯t worth shit, the only ones betting are drunks and losers who have no better place to be.¡±


    ¡°Shut up Fritjof¡±, Frida said. ¡°Or I make sure you get to join her as well. You don¡¯t fight like you used to anyway.¡±


    Fritjof shut up but kept smiling. Once her hands were bound, they led Hanna along the same path as yesterday. This time Hanna was quick through the door and avoided getting kicked into the arena. The light outside was a lot brighter than the dim lighting she had gotten used to. Hanna squinted her eyes. Unlike yesterday, the seats were far from full and no one was cheering.


    ¡°All right folks,¡± the promoter said. It was a different voice than yesterday. It sounded a lot less enthusiastic. ¡±Coming up we have¡­¡± He paused, as if to check his notes. ¡°¡­some new guy of eh, average build. He will be fighting Metalhead, that girl from yesterday that won against Mad-eye¡±. No one cheered. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure if the fight had begun. On the other side of the arena, some young bloke looked equally confused.


    ¡°You can start now¡±, the promoter added when he noticed that no one was moving.


    Hanna smiled at the awkward promoter, figuring that he must be new at his job. It was kind of disgusting that they could treat this so casually. Two people would be fighting for their life in this arena, one of them her, and they couldn¡¯t even be bothered to make a proper show of it. It proved how little a human life was worth around here. Since her opponent wasn¡¯t doing much, Hanna walked towards him. Someone among the spectators had begun booing and was quickly followed by a few others.


    ¡°First time fighting?¡± Hanna asked her opponent when she was close enough, ignoring the growing noise from the onlookers.


    ¡°Yeah¡±, he answered weakly. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t do this, I don¡¯t know how to fight, I¡¯m just a normal guy¡±.


    ¡°How did you end up here?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t make a payment and when I asked for more time I¡­¡± He was interrupted by an arrow that burrowed itself into the ground next to him.


    ¡°You know the rules. If you won¡¯t fight, then you die¡±, the promoter said, doing his best to sound assertive.


    Hanna didn¡¯t know the rules, but she hadn¡¯t expected to have much choice in the matter. It still felt weird to fight someone who was doing her zero harm and had no way to fight back.


    ¡°Sorry kid¡±, She said and punched him in the gut, catching him completely off guard. She held back as much as possible, but he still bent over. She punched him again, hitting him in the head and throwing him to the ground. Before he had a chance to stand up again, Hanna straddled his chest.


    ¡°How many were there in your room?¡± She asked him, a second before she raised her arm theatrically and struck him with as little power as possible.


    Her punch still hurt the guy, knocking his head to the side.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Quickly!¡± She urged before punching him again. ¡°How many where there in your room?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe ten?¡± He spat out with teared eyes.


    ¡°Talk to the others, tell them to be ready. I¡¯ll come for you someday soon¡±


    ¡°Ready for what?¡±


    ¡°Escape¡±, Hanna said. Then she struck him a final time, using a lot more force. Consciousness left his eyes. Hanna stood up and searched the arena for the promoter. No one was cheering but at least the booing had stopped. It felt rather anti-climatic. She found the promoter on a platform to the left of where she had entered the arena.


    ¡°We done?¡± She shouted to him.


    ¡°Uh, yes folks, there you have it. The girl who survived bolting metal to the head won and the no-name kid lost. What a shocker! Come back tonight for another fight!¡±


    Hanna shot a glance at the kid on the ground. His face was a messy mix of blood and snot and both his eyes were beginning to swell. She turned around and left the arena.


    Back in her cell again, Hanna started planning her escape in earnest. Most of it was already worked out, the big question marks were how they would leave the compound and where they would go afterwards. They could probably fight their way out of the place, but if Fritjof was to be trusted, they wouldn¡¯t be safe just because they got away. They needed some place to go in the city that was out of reach for the guild. Hanna could probably just leave the city and be done with it, but she wanted to check up on Elsa and maybe hitch a ride back to the village with them. Preferably without leaving all her equipment behind.


    They would have to look out for Greta as well. Hanna felt comfortable that she could fight her way through just about any regular guard. The problem was that people like Greta and Kurt had made it clear that there was a limit to how far her strength and healing could take her. Opponents that were skilful enough to dodge her blows and incapacitate her was a very real danger.


    ¡°Fritjof. Where would you go if you managed to escape?¡±


    ¡°Hypothetically you mean? Because I¡¯m not going anywhere unless you tell me how we are getting out.¡±


    ¡°Yes, hypothetically¡±, Hanna obliged in a deadpan voice.


    ¡°Well¡­ Not everyone is loyal to the queen, at least they weren¡¯t when I got stuck here¡±


    ¡°Like some kind of rebellious group?¡±


    ¡°They call themselves The people¡¯s democratic movement,¡± Fritjof said with a stuck-up voice. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be dependent on them though. They are a bunch of loudmouths, not fighters.¡± He hummed for a bit. ¡°Then again, if they are still around, then they have survived years of persecutions from the queen. That¡¯s something at least.¡±


    That sounded like a dead end to Hanna. They couldn¡¯t hinge the success of their escape on a group that might not even be able to help them, even if they managed to get in contact with them in short order after escaping. It would be plain foolish. Not that braking free without a proper plan was much better. Another thing to consider was when they ought to make a brake for it. Common sense dictated that there should be less people around in the night. Given the large crowds that came for the fights each evening, the opposite might as well be true in this case. Decisions, decisions, Hanna mused. She had a lot to think about. A part of her was telling her to just stop stalling and try to escape here and now. She wrestled that part down though. At the very least she ought to wait until her last opponent had woken up and talked to the others in his room.


    Another night passed. Hanna wasn¡¯t made to fight anyone, which was a disappointment to be honest. Just sitting in her cell was dull as fuck. Instead they had brought out one of the many apathetic slaves that Hanna and Fritjof shared the room with. He hadn¡¯t come back from the fight. Hanna found it hard to care. If he had given up on himself, why would she be bothered? A positive thing was that it seemed like her teeth were starting to heal. They hurt a ton at least and something had begun to take shape in the gaps. Dinner and breakfast had been the same sorry affair as always. How long would she be made to eat the same shit over and over?


    Fuck it. Hanna decided then and there. It was time to move on, consequences be damned.


    ¡°Fritjof, are you ready to leave?¡±


    ¡°Nope, not unless you tell me how you plan on getting out¡±, he answered without leaving the sparse comfort of his bead.


    ¡°Yeah, not happening. Just be ready to leave when it is time. I¡¯m thinking tonight.¡±


    Fritjof didn¡¯t respond. Hanna wanted him along for the ride, even if it was just as a guide. A rare, cautious part of her told her not tell any more than she already had. It felt silly to withhold just that part of her plan, but she decided to listen to that cautious voice. As far as she knew, nobody had yet learned about her powers and she was going to keep it like that.


    With her mind settled on escaping that night, time moved slower than ever. It was with great relief that Hanna saw the door open, revealing the same guards as ever, Frida and what¡¯s her name.


    ¡°I think management are starting to like your consistent victories¡±, the unnamed guard commented as Frida bound Hanna¡¯s hands. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t keep making you fight otherwise¡±.


    Hanna didn¡¯t really care about that, so she just shrugged, annoying the guard who was tying her hands.


    ¡°Break a leg!¡± Fritjof called as they were halfway through the door. Frida snapped her head around and gave him a curious glance. It seemed like an overreaction to Hanna but whatever, it might not be a very common saying around here.


    Her opponent this time was an older woman. Her eye¡¯s sparkled with determination. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure if that would make her more or less of an asshole if she killed her. The fight proceeded as would be expected. The promoter gave them the go and the woman ran at Hanna. The first unexpected turn was when the woman dodged Hanna¡¯s half-hearted swipe at her head. The second surprise was when the woman opened her mouth.


    ¡°Striking high!¡± She called.


    Hanna was almost too surprised to dodge in time. She got struck with a glancing blow that was too weak to do any damage. By the time she had regained her balance, Hanna had caught up to the woman¡¯s scheme.


    ¡°Low kick¡±, Hanna said and the woman nimbly jumped her sweeping leg.


    ¡°You are Metalhead?¡± The woman asked.


    ¡°What gave it away?¡± Hanna joked and stepped to the side of a straight kick.


    The two of them continued their careful choreography to the growing excitement of the spectators.


    ¡°I heard you will try escaping?¡±


    ¡°Yep¡±


    ¡±When?¡± The woman asked before blocking Hanna¡¯s uppercut.


    ¡°Not telling. Soon¡±


    The woman looked bothered. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll trust you anyway. We¡¯ll be ready¡±


    ¡°Good¡±. Hanna said. ¡°How do we end this?¡±


    ¡°I take you down¡±, the woman answered with determination.


    Hanna scoffed. ¡°Like hell you will¡±. The next punch that she threw she didn¡¯t call beforehand. The woman dodged anyway. Their friendly dance quickly turned into a proper fight, even if Hanna and probably the woman as well were careful to not do lasting damage. In the end Hanna won, but only because the woman hadn¡¯t expected her to recover quite that quickly from a kick to the head. She took the woman down with a careful jab to her chin that caused a knock-out. The crowd cheered as she went down and a moment later, Hanna was led back to her cell.


    The rest of the day was spent in restless and anxious waiting, only interrupted by the loathsome fat man and his even more loathsome mockery of dinner. The guards came and left with one of Hanna¡¯s anonymous roommates in tow. When he eventually came limping back, Hanna waited another hour before she stood up from her bed with a beating heart. It was time.


    She gripped one of the bars in her cell with both hands, and then put both of her feet on the bar next to it, feeling more like a monkey than a gymnast. She began pushing as hard as she could and the bars started to bend. They were durable as fuck and bending them took every ounce of strength that she had. But it was doable. The metal groaned loudly as she slowly forced them apart. Hanna stepped down on the ground and took a couple of heave breaths. Then she squeezed through the gap that she had made. It was done. It was time to leave.


    ¡±Motherfucker!¡± Fritjof exclaimed as she stepped out of her cell. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding when you said that you punched above your weight¡±.


    ¡°I¡¯m not much for boasting¡±, Hanna lied. ¡°Are you coming or not?¡±


    ¡°Sure, do your thing!¡± Fritjof answered eagerly.


    Hanna did her thing. She tried hurrying up as much as possible. Breaking out had been far louder than she anticipated. Guards could very well be on their way over to investigate.


    ¡°How about you guys?¡± Hanna called to the rest of the room with bathed breath. Someone spat. It was thick enough that you could hear it as it hit the ground. ¡°What¡¯s the use? You¡¯ll be dead soon anyway¡± The speaker was a woman with dead eyes in a corner cell. She was for once standing, leaning against the bar and sizing Hanna up as she walked over to her. The woman gave her a look that Hanna had seen before, the kind you get when you talk about your ambitious future, and the one you are talking to have lost their drive or never had any, so they resent themselves and in extension, you for reminding them about it. It was a look she had seen far too much of in the countryside that she had grown up in. Good thing then that plainly leaving was a fantastic way to deal with such people.


    ¡°Forget about it then, your loss.¡± Hanna said, not particularly keen on wasting time.


    None of the others had answered her. It was strange to her that they wouldn¡¯t grasp a chance at freedom. Maybe they had just been in here for too long. Whatever, someone who couldn¡¯t be bothered to try to get away wouldn¡¯t be much use anyway. The door leading out of the room wasn¡¯t even locked, something Hanna found out by pure coincidence as she prepared to kick it down. Hanna and Fritjof left the room behind and hurried off to the arena so that they could free the other slaves.


    The corridors that they ran through was deserted and quiet, making their escape so far a rather anti-climatic affair. The door to the arena was unlocked as well, with not a soul in sight. Hanna darted over the sand towards the other side, thinking about the arrow that had been fired in her second fight. They would be sitting ducks if they were caught here. No one saw them though and the they soon found themselves in the unknown corridors that held the other fighters somewhere. Since they had no better plan, Hanna crossed her fingers and betted on the building having a symmetric layout.


    The building was symmetric all right, they found a room with cells in it exactly where they expected it. Hanna threw the door open without caring about the noise it made. By now, the guards had either already heard them, or there were no guards around. In either case, they were probably best helped by hurrying the fuck up.


    ¡°Metalhead!¡± Someone shouted. Hanna oriented herself in the room and found that it was the same woman that she had fought earlier.


    ¡°Guys, it¡¯s time!¡± The woman shouted, causing the ten or so people that Hanna spotted to stir in their sleep.


    ¡°How are you going to¡­ Oh.¡± Was what the woman had time to ask before Hanna began forcing the bars to bend. She stepped out as soon as the gap was big enough and followed Hanna as she worked her way around the room. The people in here seemed to be a lot more eager to escape, with no sign of the fatalistic apathy that dominated Hanna¡¯s and Fritjof¡¯s room.


    The very second that the last slave was out of the cell, the woman began herding them out the door.


    ¡°Nice job with the bars!¡± She complemented Hanna. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting that.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m full of surprises¡±, Hanna answered. ¡°Do you have a name?¡± She asked as they hurried along.


    ¡°Lena¡± was all she said. She sounded short of breath.


    ¡°Take a left here¡±, Fritjof told them. Hanna was curious how he could know about the layout in this part of the complex. It was kind of strange if he had been mostly kept in his cell. But they took a left and after that a right, working their way through the empty corridors. Eventually they ended up with no way forward but straight ahead, through a locked door. It took Hanna three solid kicks, then she broke the wood that surrounded the lock and the door burst open. The group stepped through the remnants of the door into a slightly larger, dimly lit room.


    ¡°Surprise!¡± Frida called as she stepped forward from around a corner.


    Fuck, was all Hanna could think as she took in the sight. The two guards that she had sort of come to know stood there waiting for them. Next to them was eight more guards, all armed and armoured. Hanna shot a glance to the people behind her. Lena and her friends looked just as confused as Hanna felt.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you honestly thought you would make it?¡± Frida asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re not done yet¡±, Hanna argued. Then she charged at Frida. At least she tried to. Someone struck her in the back of her head and she felt herself stumble. Then she was overcome with the searing pain and the bizarre sight of Frida¡¯s sword piercing her stomach.

 Special of the day

    Olof looked uncomfortable.


    ¡°Do we really have to do this?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do it. But if you want some of this¡±, Hanna said, and made a sweeping motion over her body, ¡°then you have to prove to me that it will be worth my time¡±.


    ¡°And there is no other¡­ better way of doing this?¡± Rune asked, looking about as comfortable as Olof seemed to be.


    Hanna smiled. ¡°Nope¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Rune took a deep breath. Then he gingerly pulled Olof¡¯s shirt over his head. It stuck when it was halfway off, leaving him blinded and with his pale and skinny torso exposed.


    ¡°Kiss his neck¡±, Hanna urged.


    Rune gave her a pleading look, but Hanna was remorseless, smiling and motioning with her hand for him to continue.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Rune held the shirt in place with one hand and leaned in closer to Olof. He tenderly planted a kiss on Olof¡¯s neck, making him shiver.


    Hanna stepped closer and pulled the shirt all the way off. She ran her hand through Olof¡¯s messy hair. Then she put her mouth close to Olof¡¯s ear and whispered with her best come-hither: ¡°Undress him as you would undress me¡±


    Olof swallowed audibly. Then he reached for Rune¡¯s shirt and began unbuttoning it nervously. Hanna watched his trembling hands move for a second. Then she reached for her own shirt and mirrored his action. As her shirt began to slide apart, both of the young men stopped and turned towards her with blushing cheeks.


    ¡°Do you want to continue or not?¡± Hanna asked, her shirt fully unbuttoned but still covering her chest. Olof began undressing Rune again with determination. The shirt fell to the ground, revealing Rune¡¯s chiselled torso. He was defined but far from buff, and almost entirely hairless. The only exception was a small wedge of hair that trailed from just underneath his bellybutton towards his¡­ nether regions.


    Not that the two young men noticed this. Their attention was fully occupied by the two shapely mounds of flesh that stood perk in the cold air. Hanna kicked away her shirt that had landed on her feet and smiled at them. ¡°Rune, would you mind continuing?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer her, he just blinked a few times and tore his eyes away from her chest, fumbling with Olof¡¯s belt.

 Chapter 30 – A midnight’s stroll

    Hanna stared at the blade that was halfway through her stomach. More than anything, she was preoccupied by how wrong it felt. That piece of metal did not belong in her body.


    ¡°Nice, Fritjof!¡± Frida called, her sword still buried in Hanna¡¯s gut as she slowly fell to the ground, gripping the exposed blade tight.


    Hanna cursed, more the pain and her own naivety than Fritjof¡¯s betrayal. In hindsight, she had been rather foolish, blabbing left and right about her plans of escape. She should have expected this outcome.


    ¡°The rest of you, down on your knees if you want to live¡±, Frida instructed while Fritjof sauntered over to the guards with a smug smile.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so trusting Hanna¡±, he tutted. ¡°Never forget that¡±


    Won¡¯t happen again, Hanna promised herself as anger finally flared in her, a burning fire that intermingled with the pain surrounding the sword. She ripped the blade out of her stomach and pushed herself to her feet, in one explosive motion twisting it around and jamming it through Frida¡¯s jaw. For a single second, everyone was too shocked to move. By the time Frida¡¯s corpse fell to the ground, the room exploded into motion. Lena and her friends did their best against the armed guards, dodging swords and trying to wrestle weapons away. They were unarmed but they had the numerical advantage.


    Every single movement from Hanna sent waves of pain through her body. She pushed all thoughts of the pain to the back of her head away and soldiered on. Frida¡¯s unnamed colleague was still stumped by the turn of events. Hanna took her down before she had a chance to put up much of a resistance, cutting through half her stomach with a quick swipe. That left Fritjof standing in front of her, his previously gleeful smile replaced with a pale face and shocked eyes.


    ¡°Wait a minute, Hanna¡­¡± He tried. But Hanna destroyed his kneecap with a sharp kick that sent embers through her stomach. He screamed in agony and began to fall. Hanna swung her sword at him, his head hitting the floor briefly after the rest of his body. That done with, Hanna spun around with a feeling of catharsis, searching for a new target. She found it in the last guard not caught up fighting Lena¡¯s crew. He was staring slack-jawed at Fritjof¡¯s decapitated head. As Hanna turned towards him he made a feeble attempt at hitting her. Hanna blocked the sword with a casual swing, then she took a firm grip of his collar and headbutted him, carefully angling her head so that she struck him with the metal that covered her scalp. The base of his nose was smashed into mush and Hanna¡¯s face was painted with blood. A lot of it entered her eyes. Ugh. Not doing that again, Hanna noted as she tried to regain her vision with a session of furious blinking.


    The fight was over. They had won, but it had cost them. The only survivors were Hanna, Lena and four others from her room. None of them were uninjured, but at least Hanna¡¯s wound had mostly closed up. It still hurt a lot, probably some internal damage that had yet to heal. It was comforting though, knowing that she could take a blade through her gut and still fight on.


    ¡°Everyone okay?¡± Lena asked, looking over her companions.


    ¡°More or less¡±, one of them said. Hanna noted that it was the young guy she had fought in the arena. He was holding a deep cut on his arm. She was honestly surprised that he had survived the fight. It was probably more luck than skill.


    Lena turned towards Hanna. ¡°Now what?¡±


    Hanna shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know. I was betting on Fritjof sorting that out but, well you know¡± Hanna said, pointing towards Fritjof¡¯s head on the ground.


    ¡°I see¡±, Lena said with a disapproving tone. ¡°You should come with us then¡±.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see¡±, the woman answered with a smile. Hanna considered her options. On one hand, she had literally just learnt the consequences of being too trusting. On the other hand, she didn¡¯t really have any better options and the woman had at least fought by her side. That ought to mean something, right?


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m in¡±, she said, hoping she wouldn¡¯t regret her choice.


    They spent a couple of minutes snatching everything remotely usable from the guards. Hanna kept the sword that had gutted her and made sure to grab a helmet in her size and a knife. Unfortunately for her, the only helmet that fit properly was the one that covered the wrong side of Frida¡¯s mutilated head. Not that it mattered. There was no way Hanna was going to town with her metal head exposed.


    Hanna took the lead as the group tentatively opened the door to the next room. It turned out to be an empty antechamber, holding the last door that barred their freedom. It was locked but had a key conveniently stuck in it. Hanna turned it around and opened the door slowly, fully expecting someone to guard the outside.


    The only thing that awaited them on the other side was the cool air of the night and the liberating sensation of freedom. They had made it out. The building that they came from was walled in, but at least no one was in sight. They had probably fought all the guards that was in the building. It didn¡¯t make much sense having more around if they weren¡¯t expecting an attack, and if they had more guards they would probably have joined the others in the fight. Hanna and the others still opted for caution, sneaking along the dark shadows of the wall until they left from the main gate.


    Lena took the lead from there, guiding them away from the compound. From what little Hanna knew of the city, they were in that first section of it that they had passed when they travelled in the carriage. The trip took longer than Hanna had expected, only partly because one of Lena¡¯s friends had an injured leg that forced them to set a slow pace. They must have made a hundred turns as they twisted their way through alleyways, eventually ending up in what was obviously the poorest part of the town. The buildings here were small and barely more than shacks. Lena stopped in front of one of the buildings that in no way stood apart from the rest. She knocked out a complicated rhythm on the flimsy door. Through the thin walls, Hanna could hear someone push a chair across the floor, and a moment later the door was opened by a frail old man. He peered at them suspiciously until his eyes landed on Lena.


    ¡°Lena, is that you?¡± He asked as if he couldn¡¯t believe what his old eyes were telling him.


    Lena shone like a beacon. ¡°Yes pa, it¡¯s me¡±


    The old man¡¯s eyes began to water. ¡°I thought¡­¡± he began, before stopping to fight his overwhelming feelings. ¡°I thought I had lost you forever¡±.


    Lena walked over to her old man and gently embraced him. ¡°They didn¡¯t kill me, pa. They didn¡¯t kill me¡±, she said and stroked his thin hair. When the two of them broke their embrace after a while, the old man had a broad smile. ¡°Come in, my friends!¡± he urged, waving them over. Hanna took a quick glance around to see if anyone had spotted them before she entered the shackle. The streets around them were empty and silent.


    ¡°Your friends¡­¡± The old man began.


    ¡°Can be trusted¡±, Lena interrupted him. ¡°Right Hanna?¡±, she asked, giving Hanna a challenging look. Hanna had no clue what that was about. She nodded sagely just in case.


    The old man looked back and forth between Hanna and Lena a couple of times. ¡°Okay then. Just a moment¡±. He said and pushed a rug away, revealing a large, hidden trapdoor. He opened it with slow deliberate movements, huffing by the time it was wide open. ¡°Go on then¡±.


    Light was shining from whatever lay underneath the floor. A wooden ladder could just about be seen half a meter down the hatch. Hanna and the rest followed Lena¡¯s lead and climbed down. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was expecting. She just knew that a large, underground complex with plenty of people wasn¡¯t on her list of stuff that should be found inside a small shackle in the slums.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Lena waited on them down on the ground. She had her hands spread wide and her smile spread wider ¡°Welcome to the peoples¡¯ democratic movement!¡± She announced with pride once Hanna and the rest was firmly on the ground.


    Hanna scoffed. That was a fucking coincidence.


    Lena gave her a sharp look, her smile fading with it. ¡°You don¡¯t support us?¡±


    ¡±Uh, sure I do.¡± Hanna began. ¡°I just wasn¡¯t expecting to meet you so easily¡±.


    Lena seemed somewhat appeased. She turned to the rest of the survivors of the arena. ¡°I want everyone to know, that even if it was the thief¡¯s guild that held us and forced us to fight, it was done with the full support of the queen. Everything they do is either sanctioned or ignored by the crown. By escaping today, you have made an enemy of the guild, sure. But you have also made an enemy of the crown, and it would be in your best interest to join our fight!¡±


    The survivors all seemed perplexed. Hanna smiled. Nothing was ever given for free. Of course a group like this one wouldn¡¯t miss the chance to recruit new members.


    The young guy that Hanna had fought looked particularly bothered. ¡°Look¡±, He said. ¡°I¡¯m grateful and all, but I¡¯m just a normal guy. I don¡¯t want to fight anyone, I just want to get back to my old life.¡±


    Lena laughed. It sounded a bit more callous and disdainful than Hanna had expected. ¡°I¡¯m sorry my friend, your old life is gone. If the guild finds you, you will be back in the arena in no time. If you¡¯re lucky!¡±


    The kid gripped his wound and looked down. ¡°What would you have us do?¡± He asked with a defeated voice.


    Lena patted his head. ¡°Nothing bad¡±, she said. ¡°Just whatever you can do to help us¡±.


    The kid didn¡¯t answer, he just nodded quietly.


    Lena removed her hand from him and turned towards Hanna. ¡°You and I need to talk¡±, she said.


    Hanna and Lena left the others behind and walked off in search of a secluded corner of the base. Finding an empty place to talk was harder than expected. While the underground complex was large enough, every single nook and cranny had a table where people was sitting, shifting papers. Provided that it wasn¡¯t just busywork, the peoples¡¯ democratic movement seemed to be a rather sizeable organisation. As they walked, people stopped what they were doing. They were definitely the centre of everyone¡¯s attention. Lena¡¯s return had caused quite the stir among the members of the people¡¯s movement.


    ¡°What clan are you from?¡± Lena asked when they were finally out of earshot.


    ¡°None¡±, Hanna answered, knowing that it wouldn¡¯t be accepted as an answer.


    ¡°Bullshit¡±, Lena swore. ¡°No human could walk away from a sword in the gut¡±.


    Hanna shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not from one of the clans. You are just going to have to accept that as the truth it is¡±


    Lena pursed her lips. ¡°Be that way then¡±. She shifted her head, searching for a softer approach. ¡°You know, we could use someone like you. Would you consider joining us?¡±


    ¡°Nope¡±, Hanna said. ¡°Not happening. I¡¯ve got places to be and stuff to do. What have you got against the kingdom anyway?¡±


    Lena scoffed. ¡°You mean apart from the fact they rule their subjects like despotic tyrants? The queen is a monster, Hanna!¡±


    ¡°Because she rules like a despotic tyrant?¡± Hanna asked in a deadpan voice.


    ¡°No¡±, Lena answered. ¡°I mean yes, but apart from that, surely you have heard about the abductions? Hundreds of people have gone missing, my own sister one of them¡±


    ¡°What happened to them?¡±


    Lena leaned in closer but didn¡¯t lower her voice. ¡°No one knows. But they never return and there is no trace of them. Yet the queen sits on her throne year after year, never aging¡±


    Hanna leaned back to spare her eardrums ¡°So you think the queen does something to them that keeps her young?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, no one knows. But this kingdom is sick, and the queen is the rotten, festering core that keeps it going¡± Lena took a deep breath, loosing some of her built-up tension. ¡°That¡¯s why we need fighters like you. Won¡¯t you reconsider?¡±


    ¡°For the last time, no¡±, Hanna growled. ¡°But I think we have common enemies. Is there a way for me to contact you if I need to get in touch?¡±


    ¡°We are not running a charity, Hanna. Why would we help someone who refuse to help us?¡±


    Hanna crossed her arms. ¡°Uh, because like I said, we have common enemies. And you owe me for breaking you out of the arena¡±


    Lena tapped her cheek. ¡°Fare enough. Do you know where the green dragon is?¡±


    Hanna shook her head.


    ¡°Okay, how about the three barrels?¡±


    ¡°Yep, that one I know¡±, Hanna said, trying to calculate the odds of Lena naming the one tavern that Hanna knew off.


    ¡°Good. Then if you ever need to reach us, go there and ask for me. They¡¯ll know what to do¡±.


    Hanna left the compound as soon as she could, waving to the old man goodbye as she left his shack. She was the only one leaving, the people¡¯s movement had managed to rope in every single one of the other survivors. It felt like a cynical thing to do, turning other peoples suffering into a recruitment pitch. Then again, running an anti-monarchy movement in the heart of a kingdom probably wasn¡¯t the easiest thing to do. Unsavoury as it may be, Hanna found it hard to care about a few people that were forced to work for a good cause.


    Next on Hanna¡¯s agenda was returning to the castle and Elsa. She desperately hoped that Elsa hadn¡¯t left yet. It would totally suck if she would have to make the return trip on foot. That reminded her, unless she still had the writ of passage, just returning to the caste would be a royal pain. Hanna patted her armour down with a growing sense of urgency, until she found the folded piece of paper along with her money, making her breath out in relief. It bothered her that her stuff was still there though. Picking peoples¡¯ pockets seemed like the least you could expect from the thief¡¯s guild. Unprofessional was what it was.


    Thanking her lucky star, Hanna tried navigating back to main street, randomly guessing at the direction. She probably should have asked for a guide or something. Too late now. If she went back she would probably have to endure another recruitment pitch anyway. Hanna walked through the empty streets of the slum until she arrived at slightly more affluent neighbours, marked by the tipsy people that sig-sagged their way home from a night of revelry. She stuck to the trail of a larger crowd and eventually found herself on what must be main street. It looked like a different thing entirely compared to its daytime version. Gone was the cacophony of noises and the crowds of people. Instead there were smaller groups that strolled its length, stopping here and there at the few stalls that were still around, selling fatty foods and trinkets.


    Hanna shot paranoid glances around her as she walked, despite knowing that no one knew where she was and what she looked like. A good thing about these medieval times was the lack of cameras and security systems. Unless she bumped into Greta or if the guild had painted a very detailed picture of her without her noticing, chances were probably low that she would be identified.


    Hanna¡¯s walk along main street was uneventful. She passed the two gates unmolested, a quick wave of the writ of passage was all it took for the gates to open. As she walked through the gates she studied the huge walls that surrounded them, pondering on what she would have done if she didn¡¯t have that paper. She hadn¡¯t tried her jumping prowess yet. Logic dictated that she ought to achieve some extreme heights given her light weight and high strength, though she doubted it would be enough to clear those walls.


    Eventually she found herself back in the courtyard where they had arrived with the carriages. It was dead empty. Hanna walked up to the door that lead to the rooms that she and Elsa¡¯s guards had been given. It was locked. She gave it a few frustrated knows, making it shiver in its frame. A minute or so later, the door opened and a guard stuck his head out.


    He seemed half asleep and had crusted drool in the corners of his mouth. ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    ¡°You can let me inside, I need to get to my room¡±. Hanna wasn¡¯t sure yet if she just wanted to grab her gear and make a run for it, or if she would sleep the night. The former was the smarter option, the latter was the comfier one.


    The guard frowned. ¡°Your room?¡± Then realization dawned on him. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re that girl that disappeared. Kurt told us to look for you¡±.


    ¡°Sure¡±, Hanna said. ¡°Will you let me in or not?¡±


    The guard shuffled to the side and let her in, then he ran off to wake Kurt.


    Inside of the door was a table and two chairs, as well as several more doors that lead to the different bunks that the guards used. Hanna pulled one of the chairs out and waited. She sat there for a solid fifteen minutes and was on the point of dozing off when Kurt finally came.


    ¡°Hanna!¡± He exclaimed with worry. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    Hanna shrugged. ¡°A long story really. I stepped in to stop a fight, got beaten down and was made to fight in an arena.¡±


    Kurt looked guilty. ¡°I uh¡­ How did you get out?¡±


    Hanna smiled at him. ¡°With determination and violence. How else do you get shit done?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s troubling to hear. They must be looking for you, you should avoid showing your face around¡±


    ¡°Why? Can¡¯t the guards just raid that place and sort everything out?¡±


    Kurt shifted on his feet. ¡°It¡¯s complicated Hanna. I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do anything, it is out of my jurisdiction¡±.


    Hanna scoffed bitterly. ¡°So it¡¯s true then. The queen is supporting the guild¡±


    Kurt frowned. ¡°My loyalty is to the crown. You wont hear me backtalk the queen¡±.


    ¡°Won¡¯t or can¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Drop this¡±, he growled. Hanna raised an eyebrow at his outburst. The two of them studied each other. Eventually Kurt cleared his throat. ¡°You must be looking for Elsa?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, where is she?¡±


    ¡°She left one night ago in a great hurry¡±


    Fuck. ¡°Okay. That sucks. Is my stuff still around?¡±


    ¡°In you room¡±, Kurt answered. He fidgeted with a button on his armour, looking conflicted. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, but I think you deserve to know¡±. He paused, taking a deep breath. ¡°My hands are tied with the arena and other¡­ less than savoury things. But my loyalty is not with the count. And this thing with the dwellers. It¡¯s a rouse. The count is coming for them. They have maybe weeks left¡±

 Chapter 31 – Some journeys are one-way only

    Hanna woke up from the noise of the garrison coming to life in the morning. She wanted nothing more than to bury her head under her pillow and return to sleep, preferably for a couple of days. That was out of the question though. She had no time to lose and the few hours she had stolen for herself could well come back to bite her in the ass. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and began packing up her stuff. It was hard to believe that it had only been a couple of days since she first left this room behind. She could have sworn that she had been away for weeks, if not months. Maybe that was to be expected when you were abducted and forced to fight in an arena with your life on the line. She was just thankful that she had chosen to leave her stuff behind before she left. Hanna would hate losing her crossbow and there was no way she was ever starting over on a new spear. If Anders would have pestered her about it she would have told him to sit on it and rotate.


    She had gotten away easy really. Abducted, imprisoned, made to fight, bursting free, all it had ended up costing her were two missing knives, her sword and an ugly hole in her armour. And hour after hour of mind-numbing boredom. That might actually have been the worst part, just sitting the time off, hearing the non-existent clocks tick away.


    Hanna finished packing and left the room. She bumped into Kurt on her way out and forced him to feed her before she left. The food that the guards ate wasn¡¯t fancy, just dry bread, some cheese and an egg or two. It still way better than the brown slop they had been served in the arena. Hanna almost gagged at the memory. Once the food was wolfed down, she said goodbye to Kurt and made the long walk to main street. Kurt had seemed glad to be rid of her. Hanna was curious if what bothered him was his sort-of responsibility for the arenas continued existence, or if it was his betrayal of the count¡¯s plans for the Dwellers. The former would be endearing and the latter would make him an asshole.


    Main street turned out to be as busy as ever. At least people were carefully avoiding her, probably because of the big spear that was resting on top of her shoulder and was swinging dangerously to the sides as she moved around. Before she could leave the kingdom behind she had some business to take care off. Kurt had stoically refused to arrange a carriage for her and she lacked both the money and the competence to travel back on horseback. It wasn¡¯t unexpected but it still sucked, since it meant that transportation would be taken care off by her own two trusty old feet. It also meant that it would take ages. The trip to the kingdom had taken close to ten days, at a pace that was maybe twice her walking speed. Some quick maths told her that she could expect to be on the road for about two thirds of a month, provided she didn¡¯t spend any time walking in the wrong direction. Knowing herself, that was more or less guaranteed to happen.


    Hanna wasted the better part of an hour in search of a map. It turned out that in this satellite-free world, maps weren¡¯t only way out of her price-range, they weren¡¯t even for sale. At least not to the working man on the streets. It was reasonable but also really bad news for her. She would be lucky if she made her way back at all without a map. Hoping to make the trip in under a month would be plain foolish. The only thing that made Hanna remotely hopeful that she could find her way back was that there weren¡¯t a lot of roads to chose between. As they had travelled in the carriage, they had followed one singe road the entire time, and only once or twice had Hanna spotted any crossroads.


    Hanna spent the remaining hours until lunch and the little money she had on buying a water skin and rations. In the end, the money she had didn¡¯t get her a lot. She had a backpack full of cured meats and dry bread, which would keep her full for at most a week, maybe two if she barely touched the food. She had her crossbow though, which she could use to hunt if she could just figure out how to find any game. Needs usually produced means. Hanna just hoped she would sort that out before she starved to death.


    Lunch was quick and greasy, a couple of sticks with meat on them from one of the many food stalls. Hanna licked the fat from her fingers and wiped them off on her pants. It was time to go. She walked through the gate that they all had entered on their way here and left the city behind her. The road she walked was dusty and dry, despite autumn clearly approaching. It was pleasant enough to walk, around her were beautiful fields ready for harvest and miniscule villages in-between them. It was also boring Hanna out of her mind. Despite walking for a long time, the city was still visible behind her, and she constantly came back to the fact that she had maybe a month of this ahead of her.


    To mix things up a bit and just maybe speed things up, Hanna tried jogging. It turned out to be a good choice. The backpack bumped around like mad and never ceased to annoy her, but she was untroubled by the weight of all her gear. The biggest hurdle to jogging was what she would do with her spear. It was awkward to keep on her shoulder. In the end she settled on holding it in one hand, parallel to the ground. It was still bothering her but it at least allowed her to swing her arms as she ran.


    Hanna kept the pace she had set until darkness fell. She walked a couple of hundred metres off the road to a bundle of rocks and trees between two field. There she made camp and made a fire. It was only the second time ever in her life that she used a fire steel to start the fire and it took way to long. Her sergeant in the army would be fuming at her if he was here. He wasn¡¯t though, making Hanna smile as she made herself comfortable, kicking her boots off and warming her feet on the fire. The day was finished with some sausages and a good night¡¯s rest under the star-littered sky.


    Like always when Hanna slept outdoors, she awoke feeling rather miserable. The morning dew had made her wet and she was shivering in the cold. At least the stiff and aching back that she usually got was a thing of the past thanks to her healing. The day that followed was a study in monotony, the only things of note was a man and a wheelbarrow that she passed and that there no longer where any fields around after the second half of the day. The third day progressed much the same way except for one major difference. As the day grew older, the sky darkened and winds began picking up. A storm was coming.


    Hanna hated getting soaked. There was no way she would be sleeping outside tonight. She kept an eye open for signs of humans and found what she was looking for after a couple of hours. A small group of houses was nestled together far away from the road. A distant crack of thunder rolled in the background as Hanna hurried along to the group of houses. The storm got ever closer as she ran, and by the time she knocked on the door of the nearest house, rain was already falling.


    ¡°Hello?¡± It was a woman that opened the door, a mother judging by the kid that was partly hidden by her skirt.


    ¡°Hello¡±, Hanna answered, doing her best to up her charm and to not look too vicious with her armour and many weapons. ¡°I was travelling on the road when I noticed the storm. Could I maybe wait it out in your house?¡±


    The woman smiled at her, even if her eyes looked a bit worried. ¡°Of course. Come inside¡±


    That¡¯s people on the countryside for you, Hanna thought. The woman was clearly taking a risk when she let Hanna into her home, but still didn¡¯t hesitate to help her. It had been the same where Hanna grew up, people would always look out for each other. Far out from civilization, you needed the support of your neighbours.


    Once inside, Hanna took a look around. It was a really small house. The only light that was there came from a small lamp on a rackety table in the middle of the room. A man and another kid were sitting on the table, eating what looked like porridge. A singe wall hid the remaining part of the house. Hanna could just about see the rear part of an animal and some straw poking out from behind the wall.


    ¡°Would you join us for supper?¡± The woman asked.


    Hanna accepted with a thanks but didn¡¯t have the heart to take their meagre food without adding some of her own. When she pulled up some of her sausages, the kids¡¯ eyes shone. Her contribution was accepted almost reverently and did much to lighten the mood. These people probably didn¡¯t eat meat very often. They chitchatted as they ate, talking about the villagers¡¯ daily life and Hanna¡¯s journey as the storm raged outside the thin walls. Even though the small village was only three days of jogging away from the kingdom, none of them had ever gone there. Hanna was amazed by how small their world was, it began and ended with their immediate surroundings, and the only future that the two kids could look forward to, was to one day inherit their parents¡¯ meagre possessions. It reminded her about a story that her grandmother used to tell, that she was widely known in her village as well-travelled since she had once visited the closest town. It put things in perspective and made her feel like a spoiled brat for taking a flight to the other side of the world once or twice each year.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Their pleasant dinner was cut short by someone pounding on the door. This time the man left the table and opened the door slightly, careful to not let the storm inside. As soon as the door opened, a gloved fist grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it open. A second later the man was kicked to the floor, hitting his head on the edge of the table as he fell. The kids started crying and the woman rushed to his aid. In the doorway stood a man dressed in full armour and with a sword on his hip. Behind him were two others, armed and with menacing smiles.


    ¡°Stop fretting¡±, he growled towards the woman who was cradling her husband. ¡°You will all be dead soon anyway¡±, he continued and reached for his sword.


    Hanna hadn¡¯t been sitting still during all of this. She had been on her feet the second that the man hit the floor and had drawn her own sword by the time the attacker had drawn his. He swung at Hanna with a cocky grin. She swatted the weapon out of his hands and struck him in the head with her sword. His metal helmet stopped the cut but didn¡¯t save his life. The force of the blow just dented it inwards and he fell to the side like a log, dead before he hit the ground. His two companions had drawn their weapons as well and had circled Hanna.


    She spun around and tried to clear her back. The small house was cramped and gave her very little space to manoeuvre. Hanna was forced to side-step a swing from one of them while the other was behind her. Just as she had feared, that cost her. The guy behind her rammed his sword through her back, deep enough that she could see the tip sticking out of her stomach. Hanna clenched her teeth as the pain ran over her. It was a good thing she had been through this once before. She afforded herself a second to focus her thoughts, the two attackers thought themselves victorious and had stopped moving either way. Then she took a step forward and felt the sword slide out of her in a disgustingly smooth motion. At the same time she buried her own sword in the guy in front of her. All he had time to do was look surprised as he slowly toppled over.


    Hanna pulled her hatchet from its strap on her hip and spun around towards the guy behind her, their eyes meeting for a second before Hanna chopped him in the forehead with her axe. Hanna barely managed to catch him by his armour before he landed on top of the couple that had sheltered her. She tossed his corpse out through the opened door.


    ¡°Is he alright?¡± Hanna asked through gritted teeth. Her body hurt like hell.


    The woman that had sheltered her was holding her husband, his head cradled in her arms She was sobbing wildly. Blood covered much of her arms.


    Hanna walked over to them with careful steps and winced as she crouched next to them. The man had a nasty cut in the back of his head.


    ¡°Do you have some cloth to press against the wound?¡±


    The woman didn¡¯t answer. She seemed distant and unresponsive, probably in shock. Hanna put a hand on her shoulder and repeated the question without much effect.


    ¡°Will daddy be alright?¡± One of the kids walked to them, holding a towel up towards Hanna who folded it and pressed it against the man¡¯s wound.


    ¡°Maybe¡±, She answered while she took the woman¡¯s hands and made her hold the towel. She turned towards the kid that had fetched the towel. ¡°I¡¯m going out for a bit but will be back soon. Can you make sure that mommy doesn¡¯t stop pressing the towel against the wound?¡±


    The kid nodded with teary eyes. That would have to do, Hanna reasoned. She got to her feet with a lot less pain than she had expected. That was good, chances were high that these three attackers weren¡¯t the only ones around. She grabbed her sword and spear and headed out into the storm, pulling her hatchet out of the last guys forehead as she passed his corpse.


    Outside the winds were howling, pulling at her clothes. The raindrops stung in her eyes and the stronger gales made her body sway. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Hanna rounded the corner of the house and saw the rest of the village. Just as she had feared, the attackers hadn¡¯t come alone. A lone figure was sitting on top of a horse, keeping track of his men as they went through the houses. Between the gales and the thunder, people could be heard screaming and crying. The man on the horse hadn¡¯t noticed Hanna as she was hurrying towards him in a stumbling attempt at a run, the best she could manage with her wound that had yet to heal fully.


    When she was close enough, Hanna swung her spear in a wide arc. Her blow hit the man on his shoulder and threw him of his horse, who began trotting around its owner. She hurried after the man as he sailed through the air. He landed with a heavy thud and scrambled to get on his feet again. He didn¡¯t get very far. Hanna kicked him back to the ground again and lifted her heavy spear. Then she rammed it down, impaling him to the ground like fly in a collector¡¯s book. He coughed blood and grabbed at the spear, trying to pull it out. Hanna smiled in satisfaction when it didn¡¯t move and left him there, hurrying off towards the closest house.


    The people in this village were simple, at the very bottom of the social ladder. If they were good or bad was irrelevant, they lacked the means to do anyone much harm. Tilling their fields in steady monotony from cradle to grave, they were unable to do anything that could warrant this sort of attack. The fact that someone could just casually swing by and ruin their lives infuriated Hanna. It was time to take some names and kick some asses. She wasn¡¯t bringing any paper.


    Hanna entered the first house and made quick work of the closest attacker. He had his back turned towards her and her sword made a deep cut diagonally across his back. Except for him there was just one other guy in there. Her attack had caused him to stop whatever horrible action he was occupied with and he ran at her with an axe held over his head. Hanna stepped to the right to avoid the swing and cut just under the ribs. The man cursed and held his side. He swung at her again in a slow horizontal arc that Hanna had no trouble dodging under. On her way up, she drove her sword in the path of an uppercut, planting the entirety of her blade inside his ribcage. The two of them ended up face to face, in the intimate distance normally reserved for people about to kiss. Blood ran from his mouth and life left his face. Hanna pulled her sword out and hurried towards the next house, ignoring the surviving villagers.


    The last of the attackers flew out into the storm, struggling for breath as he held his tattered ribcage. Hanna finished him with a chop to the head with her hatchet. She filled her lungs with the moist air and let the rain wash over her face. She had worked her way through the houses like a butcher, charging in on people who weren¡¯t expecting any resistance. Hanna had lost count of how many she had fought somewhere after her tenth or eleventh kill. She had also lost her sword at about the same time. It had shattered as she blocked a heavy blow from an axe, costing her a deep cut in her shoulder. She was bleeding from numerous wounds despite her armour, and a shard of her sword was still stuck in her ribs. Hanna winced as she pulled it out. She would have to either change weapon or change her fighting style. Her habit of putting a lot of force into her swings was obviously putting more strain on her sword than it could handle.


    The villagers that were unharmed and able were checking up on the others, tending to wounds and making sure everyone was accounted for. Hanna left them to it, she couldn¡¯t do much to help anyway. The horse was still there, which was a relief. Hanna had big plans for that horse, she just hadn¡¯t decided yet if it was for transportation or food. Hanna didn¡¯t know shit about horses but had seen her fair share of spaghetti-westerns. She walked up to it and tried calming it down, patting its sides and talked to it with a soothing voice. Then she took the reins and tied them to a nearby tree. It would totally suck if it ran away when she wasn¡¯t looking.


    The rider of the horse was still where she had left him, tethered to the ground in a grotesque mirror of his horse. He looked weak but far from dead. That suited Hanna just fine, he had a few answers to provide before she could end his suffering.


    ¡°Please¡­¡± He coughed as Hanna squatted beside him.


    ¡°Why did you attack this village?¡±


    ¡°It hurts so much¡±.


    Hanna sighed. She was not cut out for this, but this shit needed to be done. She grabbed the man¡¯s arm with one of her hands and her hatchet with the other.


    ¡°Answer my questions and this will be quick¡±, she said. ¡°If you don¡¯t¡­ You aren¡¯t giving me much choice, we¡¯ll have to take this in steps, limb by limb.¡±


    ¡°Why did you attack the village?¡± Hanna repeated her question, holding her hatchet high for emphasis.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± he trailed off.


    Hanna took a moment to focus herself. Then she brought the axe down, chopping off two of his fingers. A third was partly cut through, only attached by some skin and sinew. The man roared in pain. Hanna gave him a few seconds to suffer before she spoke again.


    ¡°This stops as soon as you give me answers¡±.


    The man was sobbing meekly, snot and blood collecting on his face at the same pace as the rain flushed it away.


    ¡°Josef ordered us¡±, the man stammered.


    Josef. The name alone sent Hanna¡¯s blood boiling. How dearly she wished she hadn¡¯t been hit by that Molotov. If she just had been around for the fight, she would have relished cutting him down.


    ¡°Last time I heard of him, he attacked a village far from here. Why is he here?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t respond, too preoccupied with his suffering to bother. Hanna shook his hand a bit to get his attention, sending the man into another agonizing cry.


    ¡°He isn¡¯t just a pack leader anymore¡±, the man paused, swallowing the blood that had pooled in his mouth. ¡°He has taken over¡±, the man continued. ¡°He is working with the kingdom¡±


    Fuck, fuck, fuck.


    That was not what they needed now. Things were going south quick.


    ¡°Good boy¡±, Hanna said. Her words put relief into the man. She stood up and saw the longing look in his eyes as he followed the arc of her axe. It buried itself between his head and the rest of his body, and Hanna left it there for a while. She felt tired and soiled.

 Not a chapter

    Hi all!


    I no longer enjoy writing on this book. I think the quality is just too low and I want a fresh start. I pretty much have two more chapters written, and the maybe ten more to write before the book is finished. I just don''t feel like I want to waste time writing this anymore. Still, you guys have invested in this story, and I''m grateful to you for sticking with it. That is why I want to make this decision yours. What should I do with this story?This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Either I force myself to finish it, or I tell you how it ends by posting the summarised plot for each chapter. The third option is that I put it on hiatus and maybe finish it properly some time in the future.