Gertrude

Once upon a time there lived a young warrior named Gertrude. Her friends and family called her Trudy and they all lived in the kingdom of Salvonia. Gertrude was not a princess, but she was the grandniece of the king, who took a special interest in her after her father’s death in battle against the Journes. King Mallory saw to it that his favorite niece received the best training from the finest warriors in the kingdom including the Salvonian captain of the royal guard, commander Trangg. From the time that Trudy was a little girl, she knew that her chances of being a real princess were unlikely and that such a distinction was for her more attractive and fragile cousins. Alternatively, she decided to excel in the ways of the warrior and perfect her fighting skills with weapons and hand-to hand combat. She had trained to use swords, daggers, and even large battle axes but her true passion was for the most glorious weapon she had ever seen - the morningstar. This tool of destruction had a handle attached to a chain, which was linked to a heavy spiked ball. The chain could be removed to convert the weapon into a mace if needed. Her late father had desired for her to wield a spear as he did, but there was something about the morningstar that captivated Gertrude. It was more difficult to use than a sword or spear, but trained day and night for months after she reached age 18. By the age of 20, she was a skilled warrior, but because of her nobility status and her gender, she was always protected from actual combat with the Journe forces.

The Battle

One day, while accompanying a patrol in the Silverleaf forest, she thought that she heard a noise just off the trail. She didn’t inform Commander Trangg as he would just send men to investigate the noise and increase the number of guards around her for protection. She was hoping that it was a monster of some kind or something menacing. She was eager to try out her skills. She asked commander Trangg to stop the patrolling unit so that she could remove her armor and relieve herself in the woods. The commander, who had been involved in her training as a girl, still sometimes viewed her as a delicate, fragile flower so he did not perceive this to be a surprising request. He halted the patrol for the time being to appease the noble, young lady. She was the king’s favorite niece after all. He attempted to send a female guard to accompany her but Trudy assured him that she could handle things on her own without a chaperone and so he acquiesced. To avoid suspicion regarding her real intentions, she left her shield and helmet behind and caried only her beautiful chained weapon, which she had named Bethel.

Silverleaf woods were dark because of the large canopy and it was well-known that dangerous creatures roamed the area at night, but with her morningstar, Gertrude felt invincible. She almost immediately discovered human footprints leading away from the trail and she followed them to a pond about 100 paces away from the patrol. She didn’t see anyone at first, but suddenly a tall, slender male thrusted himself out of the water and swung his short sword towards her shoulder from behind. Gertrude was too quick for him even in her armor. She dodged his initial attack and used Bethel’s handle as a club to knock him across the back of his head. He fell to the ground and nearly lost consciousness, but he was quickly back on his feet. He struck her right leg with his blade, but her armor absorbed most of the force and was dented. She suffered only modest damage from the attack. Bethel was lifted upward and her heavy spiked star quickly rotated into an arc that connected with his left shoulder. The man yelled in pain and for a moment, Gertrude was scared.

Her fear was not of the man, but she feared that the others might have heard the scream and come to her “rescue” ruining her opportunity to taste real combat against an armed enemy intent on taking her life. She desperately longed for such an encounter and understood her granduncle’s reluctance to allow it but also partly hated him for keeping her so sheltered. She mustered up her strength and charged at him while she still had the advantage. Ramming her armored shoulder into his chest sent him flying a few feet and onto the ground. She raised her moningstar high and was about to deliver the coup de gras when suddenly a volley of mud flew into her eyes. She fell to her knees blinded and tried to remove the debris from her eyes. The mud was fresh and thick so she could not see but she heard him approaching. She tried to lift her weapon, but it was too late. She felt a tremendous force against her temple from his short word pommel that nearly knocked her out. She reached for her injured head using her left hand. The pain was intense but so was her discipline. She recalled something that commander Trangg himself had taught her in the fighting yards as a younger girl and threw her morning star down to the ground. She could hear the man’s footsteps circling her and when he was close enough, she lunged at his feet and lifted upward bringing him to the ground while still blinded from his cowardly mud assault. Once on the ground, she felt the sword pommel in his right hand and, given the painful injury to his left shoulder, was able to easily remove it from his grip. Once disarmed, she used her remaining strength to choke him into unconsciousness just the way her commander had taught her. She lay in the mud with a bloody temple and an exhausted body but an elated heart and very high spirits. Dirty and tired, she felt more alive in that moment than she had ever felt in her entire life. She did it! Or had she? There was one thing that still bothered her slightly and she had to assuage her concerns, or she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

Gertrude dragged the man’s unconscious and injured body into a wide depression just south of the pond. She bound his hands and feet using nearby vines in the forest and buried his weapon several paces away. After washing the mud from her armor and quickly returning to cover her wound with her helmet, she explained to the others that it took longer than she thought to remove her armor and search for fresh leaves to wipe herself. While somewhat annoyed by the delay and explanation, no one wanted to harass the king’s grandniece for relieving herself. They continued their patrol and made it back to the castle without further incident however, the night was only getting started for Trudy.

The Stranger

After running through the apothecary’s hall and royal kitchen, Gertrude used the old sewer tunnels beneath the city to escape the castle at night while most slumbered. She returned to silverleaf forest to find her injured enemy still bound but now conscious. She did not speak his language but could see that he was in pain. She Used fresh herbs and mushrooms to prevent puss from forming in his wound and provided him with moist, soft bread, wild nuts picked from the forest, dried fish chunks, eggs, and meat from the kitchen. He could not be understood because she did not speak Journe, but she imagines that he simply uttered a thank you. She could see the gratitude in his eyes. She left his hands bound but fed him over several days and removed his waste so as to keep the pit area clean. She brought cold water to temper his fever, changed his bloody bandages nightly, and even brought books to read to him. She had hoped that with time, he would become familiar with her words. As he regained his strength and his wound began to finally close, they shared words and she began to understand him. He introduced himself as Benwald Farrington from the seafaring nation of Journe. She told him that their battle was the greatest moment of her life and she felt triumphant after defeating him but that she also owed him her life, which had been vexing her since the fight ended.

The pommel strike to her head could have just as easily been a runthrough by a very sharp shortsword blade. He made a choice not to kill her and this act of mercy from an enemy deserved comity in return. He explained to her that he was indeed a Journe warrior and that his ship was sunk by a Salvonian coastal harpoon. He managed to swim to shore but found that people rarely entered the nearby woods and so he decided to hide there. He promised not to hurt anyone if she’d simply allow him to construct a boat using silverleaf wood and sail back home but she insisted that she had other plans. Benwald asked her what those plans were and to his horror, he discovered that her intention was to nurse him back to full strength but not to release him. It was so they could finish their fight to the death without mercy. She needed to know that she could best him in complete, authentic combat to the death. He did not wish to harm her, but she promised to help smuggle him across the Harvonia sea and back home by using quite venal Salvonian trade ship captains if he granted her request for a final fight. She would even continue to bring him food and the occasional bottle of Salvonian berry wine. Given his current situation, he had little choice but to accede and she removed his bindings now trusting him to keep his word.

Several days had passed and the young, slender Journe male was back to full strength. He had been using obsidian rock to shave daily and his Journe uniform had been washed in the nearby pond. When Gertrude returned that night to see him standing tall, she thought how handsome and powerful he looked. She was having reservations about the coming contest to the death with him but she still desired it now that he was back to full fighting force. All her life she had been told that she was too weak for combat duty. She had been told that armor, weapons, and tactics were the business of men. She was not in direct line to the throne so she would never be queen. A warrior’s life is all she longed for and defeating him would finally prove to the others that she was worthy of being taken seriously as a true combatant. Benwald watched as she entered the depression just past the bushes. She was quite tall herself for a female he thought. So strong but with fair skin and well-nourished, shiny hair. Was she secretly royalty? She informed him that the day had come and that by nightfall, only one of them would be alive. If he defeated her in combat, he should head to the pier just east of the city under the cover of darkness and find a captain named Willis, who traded cured meats with various kingdoms that sailed the Harvonian sea. Willis would not turn him in and had already been paid to safely transport him to Journe. Benwald need only defeat Gertrude in battle, she explained. She promised that if she defeated him, she would presentnhis sword and body to the commander and the Salvonian king even though, on a personal level, it did not please her to do so. He nodded in agreement.

The Sacrifice

Benwald asked where his sword was, and Gertrude explained that she had buried it weeks ago after their initial encounter but knew exactly where it was. She told him to remain near the pit and she would go fetch it. While walking into the dark silverleaf woods, she wondered if these moments would be her last. She truly intended to die or kill that day. What would happen to her body? Would Benwald have the decency to bury her? Would he tell Willis where it was located so the king could organize a proper funeral? Should she even be thinking about this right now? She reached the burial site and began to dig with her hands as it was not buried deep but she heard a rustling in the bushes behind her. She peered into the darkness as well as she could but could not see anything. A frightening growl carried by the wind told her that she was being stalked by a beast that she could not outrun. Her only option was to stand and fight. She grabbed the only weapon available to her at the time, the mighty Bethel. She gripped the handle tightly and prepared for the attack but to her surprise, not one, not two, but three large thraklovs charged her from the misty darkness of the forest. These dark-feathered, flightless beasts had razor-sharp beaks and powerful kicking legs. They stood almost 5 feet tall and could move very quickly. One would’ve been easy to kill with a weapon, but three? She immediately swung her ball and chain down into the skull of the first thraklov crushing its skull with a single blow. Another jumped onto her back and dug its claws deep into the muscles and skin on either side of her spine. She yelled out in pain and reached over her shoulder to grab its head. She pulled with all of her might to remove it from her back and flip it in front of her but the third thraklov collapsed its beak over her left kneecap. The razor-sharp quality of the beak enabled it to rip deep into her flesh as she was not yet armored. She wrapped Bethel’s chain around the backripper’s throat and began to strangle the creature with as much strength as she could muster. She was feeling innervated and was losing blood quickly. She finally felt the creature’s neck snap under her chain’s constriction, but she could not stand to finish the last beast which was now circling her. She could barely move and was about to pass out. A crushing bite against her throat would be enough to finish her for good she thought.

Just as all of her hopes of survival had left her, Benwald leaped out of the darkness and grabbed the beast from behind. He took a scratch to the face, which would certainly leave a permanent scar, but he ignored the pain and pulled the feathered rapscallion towards the deceased, strangled beast so he could grab the only weapon available. He grabbed Bethel’s spiked ball and dropped it several times as hard as he could onto the face of the beast until it stopped moving. He ran over to Gertrude and held her in his arms. He explained to her that she may have wanted to destroy him in battle but he would not allow her to be destroyed this day. He lifted her up and carried her to the east out of the dark woods. He passed many staring villagers who waved for him to enter their homes to render aid but he continued to move towards the castle for he had figured out her secret. Her skin was so far. He hair was so long and dark. Her teeth so straight. Her clothing even without armor so fine and untattered. She was secretly royalty and he was taking her to the best Apothecary in the kingdom even if it meant his execution. Once at the castle doors, Benwald was immediately arrested and the king’s grandniece, Gertrude Shellingworth III, was carried to the royal apothecary to tend to her severe wounds.

Weeks passed and Gertrude’s illness finally subsided. Her wounds had healed significantly, and she was able to walk again. She immediately requested an audience with her uncle, which was granted. She entered the throne room and explained the story to King Mallory, who told her that she could have killed twice all because of her pride. She told him that all her life, she just wanted an opportunity to show him and everyone else that she was strong and that despite her womanhood, she could be an effective commander in the guard if only given a real chance. The king was mildly disappointed but realize that her ability to circumvent their security over many weeks, smuggle food and supplies without arising suspicion, and organize a secret extraction of an enemy prisoner of war demonstrated that she was not just a skilled warrior and tactician, but also someone that understood planning, strategy, risk, and courage. He admitted wanting to protect her and that it might have led him to underestimate her in the past, but that this would not continue. She was relieved that he finally seemed to understand her lifelong struggle, but was curious about what happened to her savior, Benwald.

The king explained that Benwald was scheduled to be executed in 3 days. Gertrude could not believe her ears. She begged her uncle to spare Benwald’s life but the king pointed out that Benwald was an enemy combatant and that Gertrude herself was prepared to kill him in the forest. She explained that killing a man in the heat of battle is one thing but executing a man after he saved the life of noble is totally different. She explained once again that he didn’t have to come for her after she yelled during the thraklov attack. Bewald could have run to the captain at the pier and made his escape to Journe, but he didn’t. He came for her even though he knew that she was planning on fighting him to the death. She explained that Benwald came back because … he loved her. The king smiled and finally asked his grandniece to stop being so circumspect and to be candid about her intentions. King Mallory rose from his throne and approached her slowly. He told her “I can see it in your eyes. Just tell me sweetheart. Hearing you say it might help me decide what to do.” He places his hands on her face and a single tear rolls down her right cheek. “I love him, sire.” The king nods as if confirming his suspicion all along. “You love one of our enemies? One of our prisoners? A man trained to fight representatives of our own fine nation?” He asked. She paused for several seconds before responding. “Yes, my lord...I love him as deeply as a woman could love any man.” The king walks back to his throne and sits comfortably. He pauses for several minutes while ruminating over the matter. He finally spoke after careful consideration. “In that case, you leave me with no choice, Trudy.”

It was a fine summer day as Gertrude walked down the aisle of the temple. Hundreds of guests were present. Everyone was dressed in their finest attire for the occasion. The gods must have been pleased with her deeds over the last few weeks. She had aided an enemy that spared her life and in return, she had been blessed with a man worthy of her love and devotion. She learned that proving oneself in battle in not the only way to prove one’s true worth. Her dress was bright red, which was the tradition for female warriors entering matrimony. Her natural brown hair was wrapped in a ball with a starshaped pin to hold it in place. Her fiery earing accented her amber lipstick. She held her granduncle’s hand as he escorted her towards the center of the temple, where a tall, slender and handsome Benwald was waiting for her. He smiled as his bride approached and realized just a month or so earlier, they were locked in mortal combat, but found true love that would certainly last for decades to come. Gertrude reached her groom and took his hands into hers eagerly. Much to the king’s pleasure, they were both married on Salvonian lands, which would certainly unify the two nations. They had several noble children within the castle and lived happily ever after.

The End