The woman's heart stopped for a split second before she screamed at the top of her lungs.
The group of men who had been trailing her, always keeping a predatory distance, closed in at the sound.
The man in front was especially hyped up by her cry. Ripping off his shirt, he lunged for her.
Just as his hand was about to grab her hair, something hard slammed into his face. The force sent him flying, crashing down nearby.
The one who had intervened was, of course, Aldric.
As soon as he realized he'd tripped a fleeing woman, Aldric's first thought was that she must be that village's sole survivor and those chasing her had to be the marauders who slaughtered the settlement. Even if they weren't, a group of men chasing a woman into the forest at night could only be up to no good.
Aldric came out from behind the tree, using his sword's scabbard to knock down the nearest pursuer, then stepped forward, reversed his grip on the scabbard, and struck another man square in the forehead, knocking him out cold.
The third man reacted with rage and shock, pulling out an axe to swing at Aldric's head. Aldric didn't retreat. He dashed in, landed a heavy punch to the man's gut, then followed with an uppercut, dropping him unconscious.
The last man realized he was hopelessly outmatched a lightly-armored militiaman against a fully-armored swordsman and tried to flee, only to knock himself out on a tree.
The first man staggered up, cursing, and stabbed at Aldric with a dagger. Aldric didn't flinch, shoved his scabbard into his stomach, and watched him fall, retching on the ground.
"Useless scum," Aldric muttered, finishing the job with a kick to the head another would-be attacker down.
In just a few brief seconds, Aldric had dispatched four men without drawing blood.
After the fight, Aldric walked to Kevin, who was comforting the shaken woman. "It's safe now. Can you tell us what happened?"
The woman glanced at Aldric and the nearest bandit, then suddenly seized a stone and savagely smashed it against her attacker's head, over and over. When his head was a pulpy mess, she collapsed, weeping hysterically.
Aldric let her grieve, stopping Kevin from trying to comfort her, simply watching in silence.
When her sobs finally faded, she crawled to Aldric, grasped his leg, and begged, "Lord, please save my friends. They're still out there in the forest, held captive by these pirates!"
"Pirates… Are you the survivor from the coastal village?"
She froze, voice trembling, "Is there... is anyone left alive?"
Aldric shook his head.
The girl turned limp, falling to the ground, her eyes losing all light.
After a while, she stood up again, desperate. "Good lord, please help us! They're just ahead, by the riverbank."
"How many are left?"
"Three they're guarding the remaining villagers as prisoners."
Aldric tapped his sword hilt. "Then these men are useless now?"
He strode to the second bandit, set his armored boot on the man's hand, grinding it until the bandit screamed and woke.
Aldric kicked him again and forced him to meet his gaze, asking, "There's a village fifteen leagues away, its people all dead. Was that your crew's doing?"
The man, eyeing the dead comrade, tried to lie but Aldric interrupted him. "Answer properly. The last guy's response didn't satisfy me."
The bandit, terrified, blurted a confession: "It was ordered by Cowens the boss he said nobody from the village could be left to talk."
"Are you the leader?"
"No, no, our boss is back at camp…"
"All right. That's enough."
With that, Aldric drew his dagger and cut the man's throat.
The bandit tried to hold back the blood, but died after a few gasps.
Aldric wiped the blade clean, sheathed it, and turned to Kevin. "Take my sword. Cut off their heads. Bring them."
Kevin stammered, "Cut… cut their heads?"
Aldric frowned. "You chop fish heads well enough. These won't struggle."
As if on cue, the last bandit awoke and bolted, but Aldric threw his longsword, impaling him mid-run.
Aldric retrieved his blade, decapitated the body, and demonstrated to Kevin. "Just like that one clean stroke!"
Through his helmet, Kevin thought he saw a dangerous gleam in Aldric's eyes, shivering before nodding quickly. "Yes, Ser. Understood, Ser!"
Hands trembling, Kevin stabbed the last unconscious bandit, then chopped off the head, following Aldric's lead with the others.
Once all three heads were detached, Aldric explained, "A warrior's weapon is their lifeline. Once we reach water, clean the blood from your sword thoroughly, or it'll turn to rust."
Really, Ser? You're worried about rust not this pile of headless corpses?
Aldric had Kevin collect the heads as a tactical move, not out of morbid interest.
Inside, Aldric was pale. On Earth, he wouldn't even harm an ant. But in this quick battle, cold logic told him this was necessary. He was stunned at his own ruthlessness.
Was it courage or the numbing effect of slaying thousands of digital monsters in his past life? He wasn't sure. But mercy to enemies meant cruelty to oneself.
Aldric tied the heads together with cloth, hanging them from his belt.
He cut an imposing figure tall, armored, and grim, with four grisly heads at his side. Even the rescued girl shivered, wondering if she'd traded one terror for another. But seeing the cruel faces of her captors, she felt, strangely, safer.
They had her lead the way to the bandits' camp.
On the road, Aldric asked about the attackers. She began to recount the tragedy of her village the events of the last two days.
Her name was Claire; she had no family name, just a poor farmer's daughter, not a noble.
Her coastal village was so minor it had no name locals called it "Our Village," neighbors called it "That village by the sea."
Though poor, it wasn't unclaimed. It was under House Howwood's vassal, House Cowpert, protected by Castellan Rodney.
"What does a castellan do?" Aldric asked.
Claire explained, "Lord Rodney keeps us and neighboring villages safe. We give him dried fish and seashells for his protection. He lives in Redstone village most of the time; during tax season, Uncle Bill and others deliver the goods."
Aldric grasped it. "So a castellan is like a sworn knight?"
But Claire, confused, replied, "A knight? What's that?"
Kevin interjected, "Ser, to be a knight you have to swear to defend the Seven Northerners worship the Old Gods, so there are no knights in the North."
Aldric nodded. So the castellan was the North's version of a sworn shield.
They listened while Claire shared her tale:
She was nineteen, a lifelong resident, never married (to her parents' despair). She refused to wed for the sake of duty like Aunt Aimee no point marrying someone she didn't love, having kids, slaving away, and getting beaten up.
Two days ago, a peddler selling worn-out nets came to town but didn't sell anything. That night, a longship carrying over twenty pirates landed. The peddler was among them.
Guided by the peddler, the pirates invaded at night, killing everyone and abducting her and other young women.
Just this morning, the pirates split into two groups. The larger group left camp, destination unknown. The smaller seven men stayed behind, keeping prisoners near a water source.
With most gone, some captives saw a slim chance to escape. The girls planned a night breakout. They tried, but only Claire got away, realizing now she'd made it far only because the bored guards let her run.
As they neared the camp, Claire pointed out a tall tree and whispered, "We're here, at the big tree up ahead."
Aldric searched for signs of the enemy but saw nothing in the heavy darkness and wild growth.
He told Claire, "Hide. Don't come out until I call you."
He told Kevin, "Bring sword and shield; follow behind. When I make contact, block any escape route let none run."
Kevin responded with solemn affirmation.
Their strategy clear, the pair crept toward the camp.