Löris McIntosh

Until Kingdom Come

“Blast the mother,” Nina fumed as she dived behind the nearest oak tree. The mercenary hot on her heels was extraordinary, she had to give him that. She surveyed the burning cut on her forearm, courtesy of the arrow he released on his target just moments before. Shallow enough, she thought. Nina reached out with her senses. In her mind's eye, she could see him approaching carefully, favoring his left side. She smiled, remembering the blow she delivered to his right thigh after he caught her ransacking his small cottage, searching for the dethda talisman that now sat safely in her carry bag. He was too broad shouldered if you asked her, slowed him down and made it difficult to respond to his opponents next move. She didn’t have that problem, small framed and lithe. His green eyes narrowed in concentration, her pursuer began circling the tree that shielded her from view. Eyes closed, Nina matched him step for step, careful to keep an inch of distance between her black leather boots and the base of the tree. She saw him pause and tick his chin to the right, listening for her. His long brown mane fell back to reveal his Fae-gifted ears, perked up and straining. Nina, still safely hidden, paused and matched his breathing, breath for breath—chest rising and falling in rhythm to his. He hit the tree in frustration and continued down the path towards Eferda Mountain, where she likely would have gone, had she not felt him narrowing the distance between them more quickly than anticipated. She debated whether or not to let him alone and take the longer journey to meet the trader awaiting her arrival just north of the mountain. She smiled wickedly, opening her eyes to reveal his retreating form. Nina briefly noted the simplicity of his grey linen undergarment, worn underside of a plain black tunic. She smiled even wider when she realized his linen chauses looked almost new, barely worn. She decided against adding an extra quarter days’ journey to her travel schedule for the likes of him. Apologies to your laundress, she thought before moving her deft feet soundlessly, bounding across the expanse between them in mere seconds. Now upon him, she slid across the path to the right of her opponent and brought her body to a standstill right in front of him. He had no time to gain his footing before he was on his back, thanks to the hard uppercut she dealt to his chin with her elbow. “Bloody mother--,” he swore. Before he could utter anything more, she knelt and gripped his throat with an unforgiving clench. “Wait wait,” he choked out. She paused for a heartbeat, noting the worn out brakla that encircled his left wrist. It was similar to the kind mothers often hand wove for their male children before parting in times of war. She slammed his head against the ground and gritted out, “Stop.following.me.” She slowly rose from the ground, taking care to look him in his eyes as she did so. She could see him calculating his next best option. “I need that talisman Nina Thorburn,” he sneered.