Ripples in Time - part 9

by Lois Kay and Cbar


The darkness had settled over the forest like a warm, thick blanket. There were no stars visible that night, since big, fat clouds had been slowly but surely, obscuring the bright blue sky. There had been nothing left but grayness. The temperatures had been high and it was still warm and humid., even amidst the dense forest. A skylark was singing a bright, happy song, but other than that, it seemed like the forest was holding it's breath, waiting for the storm that was brewing overhead.

Mor and Isa were slowly making their way back to the cave, knowing it wouldn't take long for the rain to start falling, but aware of the fact that they had to carefully choose their way, if they didn't want to stumble and fall over the thick tree roots, that were covering the tracks.

Mor cast a look at the sky above her and mumbled something about picking up the pace. She didn't want to get rained on. The outside temperature might still be nice, but the prospect of drying in a cold cave somehow wasn't very appealing.

She glanced back over her shoulder to see Isa follow her closely. She smiled. Isa had been wonderful when they had visited Axel, Isa's father, to tell him about what had happened to Isa and inform him about where Baldric was and what his young son was doing.

At first he had been upset, a little angry even, but Isa had been amazing. She had been able to convince her worrying father of the fact that it was safer for her to stay with Mor. And that Baldric was doing something that he had always dreamed of doing. In short, his children were safe and content,  doing what they wanted to do.

Slowly and reluctantly, Axel had agreed with his daughter and just before they had left, he even had grabbed Mor's arm, thanking her for looking after his children. Which had surprised Mor, because even though Axel had been thrilled to see his daughter, he had regarded her companion with hostility and distrust.

Mor softly chuckled. She had witnessed a whole different side of Isa this evening: self confident and diplomatic. Mor was convinced her friend could talk so smoothly, she would be able to sell just about anything to anybody.

"What are you snickering about?" a clear voice suddenly sounded, with a hint of amusement.

Mor somehow managed to restrain herself.

"Just thinking, " she casually answered. "We will have to walk a bit faster if we don't want to be rained on."

" Good idea, "Isa murmured, looking up to the darkening sky and almost tripping over a rock that was just in front of her.

Mor was just in time to avoid a violent collision with the ground, by grabbing Isa's uninjured arm and jerking her back up again.

"Careful," she warned. " You don't want to hurt yourself, now, do you?"

" Not really, " Isa answered, feeling safe with Mor's strong arm wrapped around her shoulder. "I...hey..."

With an indignant look Isa looked up when a big drop splattered on the bridge of her nose.

" Oh....not good," she remarked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Mor smiled and suddenly found herself bending forward and kissing the slightly moist area.

" All better now, " she whispered, noticing the look of quite wonder on Isa's face. " Come on, we have to hurry."

Within minutes the rain poured down and it didn't take long for Mor and Isa to be drenched. Their clothes were sticking to their bodies and their hair was plastered to their faces.

Despite the rain it was still warm outside, a humid warmth that seemed to hold the world in a lazy, languid grip.

But as soon as the two women entered the cave, they could feel the cool air bring a chill to their wet skin.

" Let's get a fire started," Mor suggested, not needing a torch to find her way in the darkness. She had grabbed Isa's hand and when she felt the cold skin, she suddenly remembered the fever the young woman recently had and hurried down the dark pipeline, almost dragging Isa with her.

As soon as they entered the room, Mor steered Isa towards the corner near the fire pit where a thick layer of furs and blankets were spread out.

" Take those wet clothes off and crawl in there," Mor urged. " I will get the fire going."

Isa was too cold to object. With stiff, but trembling fingers, she started to peel off the wet layer of fabric that clung to her skin and made her feel even colder.

Mor had made quick work of the fire. She had thrown a few thin, dry twigs on it and when the flames were blazing, she added a big log that quickly caught fire, spreading a very welcome warmth. After that she turned her eyes to Isa, to see that the young woman was struggling to get out of the dress that was twisted around her shoulders, trapping her injured shoulder inside.

" Here, let me help you."

Mor stood behind Isa and gently helped her to discard the wet dress. Her skin felt cold and clammy when Mor carefully lowered the smaller woman down to the furs. Her eyes drifted to the sight before her and she swallowed hard. Isa's skin was pale and covered with goosebumps. But in Mor's eyes she was beautiful. Isa shivered and Mor mentally slapped herself. Here she was, staring at the naked body of her friend, secretly enjoying the sight of the small, but firm breasts, the well toned muscles underneath a porcelain belly and the muscular legs covered with a silky soft skin. While Isa was involuntarily shaking due to the tremors that coursed through her body.

" Pull this over you," Mor insisted, covering Isa's body with a big, soft fur. " I will make you some hot tea."

Mor wanted to stand up, but a small hand on her thigh stopped her. She looked down, one eyebrow raised to see a pair of pleading green eyes.

" Crawl in here with me," Isa softly asked in a shaking voice. She clenched her jaw to avoid her teeth from chattering. " You are soaked yourself, Mor. The fire is doing fine. We'll get tea later, just get warm first. Okay?"

Mor only debated with herself for a few seconds. The thought of warming her chilled body was very tempting. Especially since it meant crawling under a nice thick warm fur and snuggling up against Isa.

" I would...I...will have to take off those wet clothes. Let me get changed first, I..."

Mor slightly blushed when she saw the sparkle in Isa's eyes and she bit her lip, feeling like a little child.

" Get those wet clothes off and get  in here, please,  Mor, " Isa sighed, rolling her eyes. " I need your body heat. I am freezing." 

Mor merely nodded and without a word she quickly peeled off the clothes that were still stuck to her skin and were already starting to chill her. Avoiding Isa's eyes she stepped over her friend's body, lifted up the furs and crawled in behind Isa, not really sure what to do next.

" Better?" she mumbled.

" Not yet, " Isa sighed, turning around and facing the tall, dark woman. " Relax, Mor. I won't bite."

Isa slid closer and without warning wrapped her arms around Mor's taller body, pulling her closer. The effect was electrifying. Both women gasped, and it was not just because of the contact with chilled flesh. When Isa pressed even closer, burying her face into Mor's neck, the taller woman could feel her heart rate pick up and felt her blood race through her veins.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms around Isa, holding her close, while her body was flooded with a tidal wave of emotions. It felt like she was being picked up and carried high into a place that was unknown to her. A place that emptied her head and filled it with only one image, one sensation: the gradually warming skin of Isa, who had started to softly kiss the exposed flesh of Mor's neck, making the tall woman softly moan.

Involuntarily, Mor's hands had begun to caress the smooth skin of Isa's back. All the way from the muscled shoulders to the small of her back, where the skin became even softer, until Mor's hands were slowly rubbing circles on the firm flesh of her buttocks.  She could hear Isa's breathing catch and slowly she started to knead the flesh underneath her palms. Immediately Isa's body pressed closer and a pair of soft lips started to suck on Mor's pulse point, which made her almost moan out loud.

Mor felt like her body was invaded by a warm, thick fluid that slowly spread through her. Starting in the pit of her stomach and gradually overtaking the rest, to finally end up in her legs, making them feel weak, but warm. Even the soles of her feet were glowing.

" Isa," she finally managed to whisper between two breaths. " Isa, are you....?"

" Yes," came the determined answer. " I am sure."

After those words, Isa looked up, glanced into a pair of darkening blue eyes and bent her head to capture Mor's lips in a searing kiss. Mor was completely taken by surprise, but in spite of that, she quickly responded by letting her hand slide to the back of Isa's neck pulling her closer. It was a passionate kiss that held tenderness, but also spoke of a need and a desire that quickly grew too much , into something that could not  be denied any longer.

Isa felt her skin slowly begin to burn when Mor's hands slid up and down her sides, gently caressing the soft curves of her breasts. Isa's breath stopped when an insisting thumb started to rub one of her nipples and the soft moan that escaped her throat was swallowed by Mor's lips and tongue, caressing, nibbling, and tasting every part of Isa's lips and mouth.

Isa's hands caressed a pair of broad shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under her hands and boldly traveled down towards a pair of firm breasts, the only islands of softness on a well toned body that had started to arch under her touch.

Two bodies had started a grinding motion that became more insistent and demanding with every touch and caress. No spoken word could have described the tenderness and desire that flowed freely between them. When the heat and friction became too much to bear, a set of soft whimpers filled the stillness of the cave, leaving Mor and Isa trembling in each others arms.  Too overwhelmed by the intensity of their emotions, to move, or even speak.

Mor just pulled Isa close against her sweating body. Softly kissing a pair of liquid lips, while a blond head rested on her shoulder. Green eyes half closed, a contend smile on Isa's face.

Unknown to the lovers, the rain had stopped. The blanket of clouds was slowly breaking open and a silvery ray of moonlight illuminated the tree that was hiding the cave's entrance. Painting it in an unearthly color of silver. Like a blessing from the Goddess herself.

Baldric's legs had started to cramp and carefully he stretched his muscles to ease the pain. He was stiff from laying in the same position for a long time  and he could feel the telltale signs of his feet going numb. Uncomfortable he shifted around a little, careful not to make any noise.

In the distance he could hear the low rumble of a thunderstorm and a quick look to the sky told him it would start raining soon.

The group of Roman soldiers were still passing around wineskins and if the noise was any indication, they were heavily intoxicated.

Baldric's green eyes shone with excitement when he looked at the still form of Jaali. The tall man had not moved for a while now. He was staring in the distance and with a stab of pain in his chest, Baldric saw the track of a single tear, that slowly rolled down Jaali's cheek. At that moment Isa's younger brother made a decision that would change the course of his life.

" You are coming with me," he whispered, reaching for the dagger that was hidden in his right boot. "I'll cut you loose, Jaali. We'll wait till those soldiers pass out and then we'll go."

" That's too dangerous, my young friend. If they capture you, you will surely die," Jaali answered with sadness in his voice.

" I won't leave a friend of Mor's," Baldric replied with determination. " You are coming with me."

Jaali realized Baldric would not change his mind and he slowly nodded. He looked at the grim face of his new friend and silently thanked the Gods for sending the boy his way. He admired his courage and iron will. The boy clearly had potential. Sauda had done good by recruiting him.

" Don't cut those ropes yet, Elojo. Let's wait until they are asleep. They still might come over and check on me. They like playing games, especially when they are drunk."

" What did you just call me?" Baldric asked puzzled.

For the first time Baldric saw a full fledged smile on Jaali's face. His perfectly white teeth stood out vividly against his ebony skin.

" Elojo," Jaali answered. " Because you are a blessing from the Gods. That is what it means."

" Elojo," Baldric softly repeated, liking the sound of the name.

He smiled back at Jaali, his green eyes sparkling.

" I like that name, " he said.  " Thank you."

"You are welcome, young one. Now, hide yourself, I hear somebody coming this way."

Jaali had been right and Baldric mentally slapped himself for letting his concentration slip away from him. He quickly crawled back between the bushes and held his breath, while Jaali softly started to hum a tune.

" What in the name of Mars are you doing, slave?" one of the Roman soldiers slurred, swaying from all the alcohol he had consumed.

" Are you talking to yourself? Ha, you must be losing your mind. Finally!"

He brought back his right foot to kick Jaali in the side, but that movement brought him out of balance and it took him all the coordination he had left, not to fall. His comrades were laughing hard when they saw their friend's antics.

The soldier mumbled something unintelligent and decided that kicking Jaali wasn't a good idea at that moment. He might fall. So, he settled for spitting on Jaali's unprotected form and when he was done, he turned around and unsteadily walked back to the fire, where two fellow soldiers already appeared to be fast asleep, judging from the sound of their snoring.

Slowly Baldric released his breath. His eyes followed the soldier and relieved he saw that the man was clumsily sitting down next to the fire. He lost his balance and toppled over onto his side. Passed out from too much wine.

Baldric waited a little longer and when it was clear that all five soldiers were sleeping, he crawled back from his hiding place, his dagger clenched into his fist.

Jaali looked up at him and slowly nodded.

With a few quick motions Baldric cut the ropes that were binding Jaali's arms and feet. But when he reached the collar around the tall man's neck, he was faced with a problem. The collar was made out of leather and was wrapped tightly around Jaali's neck. It had a big, iron buckle, but apparently that had not been enough. A little lock was attached to the buckle, making it impossible to take the collar off.

" There's a lock on it, " he whispered, the disappointment obvious in his voice. " Do you know which soldier has the key?"

" Don't bother, Elojo, just cut the leather."

" But it's so close to your skin," Baldric objected. " My dagger is very sharp, Jaali. I don't want to hurt you."

" Water cannot be forced uphill, Elojo. It will only be a cut. A small price to pay for freedom. Cut the leather. I trust you, young one."

Baldric swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palm on the fabric of his shirt. This was not the time for his dagger to slip out of his hand. He took a deep breath and used the sharp point of his dagger to slowly carve into the leather that was wrapped so tightly around Jaali's neck, that there was no room to even put the blade of his dagger behind it.

 Very carefully he started to slit the thick leather, avoiding the area near the unprotected skin of Jaali's neck. He ignored the perspiration that was forming on his forehead and the moisture that was slowly trickling down his back. His eyes were focused on the dagger and the collar only. He even managed to block out the fact that Jaali, in spite of his courageous words some time earlier, was anxiously holding his breath.

After what had seemed like an eternity, the thick leather collar finally parted. It slipped from around Jaali's neck and fell soundlessly to the ground.

With wide eyes Jaali touched the raw skin of his neck and a wide smile creased his dark face.

"Thank you, Elojo. You are a good friend."

Baldric wiped his forehead and let out a shaky breath.

" We'd better get out of here, Jaali. Get the horse, cross the river and travel north."

" That is a good idea, young one. We must be well on our way when those soldiers awake. They will feel the pain of their indulgence and I can assure you, they won't be happy!"

The morning sun steadily rose in the sky, chasing away the last of the rain clouds that had been lingering all night, occasionally showering the underlying earth with an abundance of water. The forest floor was wet and soft and smelled like earth and rotting leaves.

Mor breathed in the fresh air with appreciation, her clear blue eyes half lidded and a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth. It was a beautiful day. She had woken up to see the fire being reduced to glowing embers and wondered why she didn't experience the chill she usually felt in the morning, when she woke up and needed to breath life into the fire.

Slowly realization had dawned when she had felt the soft, but firm pressure of a warm leg and arm that were wrapped around her naked body and recent memories had jerked her back into the present. She had closed her eyes again to thoroughly enjoy the sensations that were coursing through her body. Isa had still been asleep, spooned up against Mor's broad back, pinning her down to the furs with her arm and leg. And Mor had sent a silent prayer to Freya, thanking the Goddess for the small blond that was wrapped around her.

After a little while Mor had carefully unwrapped herself from Isa's body, pleased to know that her friend had not woken up yet and had quickly thrown another log on the fire. She had shivered when the cool air in the cave had surrounded her body and made quick work of slipping into her breeches and tunic. With tenderness she had knelt next to Isa and had smoothed back the hair from her forehead. A pair of sleepy green eyes had peeked up and Mor had not been able to resist.  She had brought her face close to Isa's and had softly kissed her on the lips.

" Go back to sleep," she had whispered. " I will be back soon. I need to get us some fresh water and something to eat. Okay?"

Isa had nodded and closed her eyes again, but when Mor had tried to get up a small hand had grabbed her own larger one.

" I love you, Mor, " Isa had sleepily confessed and Mor had felt the tears sting in the back of her eyes.

" I love you too," she had managed to answer, with a husky voice.

Mor smiled and felt herself filled with a joy she had not felt in a very long time, if ever. She had quickly filled a waterskin back at the well inside the cave and was now returning from a visit to some apple and cherry trees she had recently located on the other side of the hill top.

She would make some tea and the left over bread and fresh fruit would make an excellent breakfast.

Mor stretched her tall frame and felt a few pleasant aches. Her heart skipped a beat when her body remembered the way Isa had touched her the evening before and her body immediately responded with a humming desire.

Mor softly moaned when she realized the profound effect even the memory of her small companion had on her. With long strides she made her way back to the cave. Her mind already painting a picture of a well built, certain blond, with captivating green eyes.

The Roman camp was buzzing with activity. In the early morning light soldiers could be seen doing their drills, while others hurried in and out of the tents and barracks, doing their morning chores.

The two main roads leading through the camp were still wet from last night's rain and reflected the rays of the early morning sun. A Roman patrol was marching through the north gate, on their way to Trajectum to relieve the guards of the prison.

Titus was squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight, while he followed the movements his soldiers made on the exercise square. They were new recruits from Rome and it would be his responsibility to make real warriors out of them.

Titus' mind had drifted far away though. He could not help but wonder what had happened to the patrol that was sent off the day before, when the centurion had angrily sent them away to find the warrior that had sneaked into the camp and mutilated its Optio.

Titus touched his cheek and realized with a sickening sense of reality that he was scarred for life. Right now the skin was still red and swollen, but when the swelling would be down and the scabs fallen off, the scars would be clearly visible. He would have to spend the rest of his life, with a Celtic symbol carved into his face and that thought filled him with fury.

Frustrated he kicked away a pebble and his eyes focused on the group of young men in front of him.

" Start over again," Titus snarled. " You look like a group of girls! Get those legs moving. You are marching, not dancing!"

With a menacing glare he looked at the pale faces in front of him. There was not even one pair of eyes that was raised to challenge him and Titus regretted that. He would have liked to vent his frustration and what better way to do that then training recruits?

His thoughts traveled back to the day before, when he had talked to one of his friends, who was part of the scorned patrol.  Servius was his cousin and had always been his best friend. Titus trusted him and he knew Servius would always do what Titus wanted.

Just before the stocky soldier had left camp the evening before, Titus had talked to him separately from the group and told him that when they did find that warrior, not to try and capture him, but kill him immediately. Even though that would go against the orders of the Centurion.

Servius had not questioned Titus, but had merely nodded and clasped his cousin's arm.

" We will bring him back dead," he had solemnly promised.

Titus rocked back on his heels and tried not to smirk. He didn't care what the centurion's plans were. The mysterious warrior would soon meet his Gods and when he did, he, Titus, would show the warrior's friends that no one messed with Titus Oranius Silanus.

Softly whistling Mor had almost reached the entrance of the cave. Her eyes fell on some daisies that were growing alongside the track, their heads happily turned towards the rising sun. In an impulse she bent down to pick one and she smiled when she imagined the look on Isa's face when she would give her the flower. Somehow Mor knew that her blond friend would appreciate little gifts like that. And to her own surprise Mor realized she looked forward to giving them.

Twirling the flower between her slender fingers, Mor continued her way, until she reached the tree line. A soft sound had made her stop dead in her tracks and she cocked her head, listening intently.

It was quiet again, but to Mor's trained ears the silence was an unusual one. It was too quiet. Just the rustling of leaves and the sound of lapping water in the small creek that winded down the hill. No sign of birds singing. The lack of their songs made Mor cautiously step back behind a tree, waiting.

It took a long time and just when Mor started to wonder if Isa would be smart enough to stay inside the cave until she had returned, she heard the noise again. Closer this time.

Without making a sound Mor carefully lowered the pouch with the fruit and the waterskin to the ground. She reached underneath her tunic and pulled two daggers out of her belt. With her back pressed against the tree trunk and the daggers clenched tightly in her hands, she waited.

Now knowing where the noise had come from, Mor didn't have any trouble locating it again. Her sensitive ears effortlessly followed what was approaching.

Mor briefly closed her eyes, concentrating and her nostrils flared when she picked up the scent of leather and an unwashed body.

Her face was set in a grim mask when she realized that it was possible that one of the Roman patrols was back. Really close to her home this time.

The sound of someone trying to control his breathing reached her ears and Mor knew that somehow, the one creeping up on her, knew she was there.

I have made a mistake. I must have been so occupied with thinking about Isa, I ignored the world around me. By the Gods, that was stupid. That could not just mean losing my own life, but Isa could get hurt as well.

Mor crouched down behind the tree, all her muscles tensed, ready for action. The sounds became more clear and louder and with satisfaction Mor realized that, whoever was following her, did not know she was only a few paces away.

Her pursuer was on the other side of the tree now and Mor froze, somehow managing to blend in with the tree and the bushes that surrounded her. When the sound of carefully placed footsteps continued, she carefully glanced around the tree to see who had been so stupid as to follow her.

It was what she had expected. A Roman soldier. Alone.

Mor suppressed a snort and shook her head, not believing the fact that anyone could be ignorant enough to go on a man hunt alone. Because she was convinced that the Roman was looking for her. She had expected them to send out more patrols, in order to try and find her. Especially after she had killed one of them, that day at the waterfall. But she had never expected this. One Roman soldier, sneaking around the forest, following her back to the cave.

That is the last and most expensive mistake you will ever make, soldier.

Mor stepped away from the tree, keeping her eyes on the soldier, who had not even noticed her presence yet. She sighed and regretted the, soon to be waste of another human life. He was so careless. For a moment Mor pondered over her feelings. It surprised her that she felt this way. It was something new to her. In the past she had never felt compassion for her victims. Even slicing up Titus had been done with no remorse.

Isa must be rubbing off on me already, she thought wryly, pushing away her thoughts to the background and focusing on the task ahead.

" Looking for someone?" she casually asked, her voice deep and almost purring.

The soldier stopped dead in his tracks and swirled around. His eyes went wide when he noticed the woman who was standing in the middle of the track. Her tall frame relaxed, feet a little apart and arms alongside her body. She was dressed in black and the tight breeches, neatly tucked in the black boots did nothing to hide the length of her legs. Her dark hair was cascading down her back, but the thing that struck him most, were the electrifying blue eyes, that looked at him calmly, without any trace of fear.

The Roman unsheathed his short thrusting sword and took a step closer, but immediately he saw her eyes grow cold and he stopped. Debating with himself what to do next.

" What's your name?" Mor casually asked.

" Servius," was the immediate response. " What's yours?"

" That's of no interest to you," she answered with a feral smile.

Servius mentally slapped himself for letting the strange woman take the lead in the conversation and he took another step closer.

" I could cut you into pieces, woman," he growled, lifting up his sword.

Mor smiled and slowly shook her head.

"Tch, you Romans are all the same, aren't you?" she mocked, knowing she would make Servius angry and loving every moment of it. " Put away that gladius, soldier. Nobody cuts me into pieces."

For a moment only, the Roman soldier hesitated, but then Mor saw the grip on his sword tighten and soundlessly she sighed.


" Did Titus send you?" she asked, knowing that would be a real possibility.

Servius did not answer, but the widening of his eyes told Mor everything she wanted to know.

" How is his face? Still sore?" she informed with a raised eyebrow.

" It was you!" Servius breathed, his face flushed from anger. " Titus said it was a warrior. A man."

" Looks can deceive, Roman," Mor answered. " You shouldn't believe everything  cowards tell you. They usually make up their own variation of the truth. Did Titus tell you he wet his pants, when he felt my dagger on his skin?"

Servius' breathing became more labored and for the first time Mor could see a hint of fear in his eyes.

" Am I making you nervous? Well, that's not nice of me, is it? What do you want to do about it...........Roman?"

That last word was said with so much contempt it made Servius' blood boil. He took another step closer, but Mor didn't even flinch. She just stood there, looking at him with an arrogance and self confidence he had never seen in an enemy before.

With a growl that came from deep within his chest, Servius raised his sword and leapt forward, only to stab into a void of air. Mor had read his eyes and when he had come straight at her, she had sidestepped his sword with an elegant ease and was now standing behind him.

" Try again," she purred, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

This is so easy! It's obvious they don't train their soldiers like they do their gladiators.

Servius turned around and without thinking, came at her again. His right arm, that was holding the sword, was viscously hacking away, but to his frustration he didn't hit anything, but air. Until suddenly his arm was grabbed in an iron grip and the sword was wrenched out of his hands.

" That's enough," a cold voice sounded near his ear. " You might hit a tree. Waste of nature, don't you think?"

But Servius wasn't about to give up yet. Mor was standing on his right side and with all the power he could muster, he brought his head to the side, trying to hit her head with his steel pot helmet. But he had gravely underestimated Mor. When she saw his helmet coming closer, she had let go of his arm and had taken a step back. Servius was already out of balance and the momentum took him to the ground. His head hit a tree and with a groan he rolled unto his back. Only to see his own sword being pointed at his unprotected throat. He swallowed hard and desperately tried to come up with a plan to get out of the situation he was in.

" You fight like a girl," Mor casually remarked. " A little girl," she added, to insult him even more.

Servius gritted his teeth and his eyes shone with pure hate. He had promised Titus to kill the warrior that had mutilated him. That's why he had left the rest of the patrol behind to start his own search. When he had spotted a tall figure, dressed in black he had almost tasted the victory. But now he was laying on his back, his own sword pointed at his throat. Defeated by a woman!

" Titus will get you anyway," he spat. " And when you are dead, he will turn his attention to that village slut. It's a pity he was drunk when he threw that javelin. Next time he will split her in two!"

Servius saw the amusement leave Mor's face and the expression of indifference in her eyes quickly made way for a cold stare, that seemed to paralyze Servius' body, making it hard to even breath. And deep down inside he knew he had just made a fatal mistake.

" Prepare yourself to meet Mercury," Mor remarked coldly, letting go of the reins that had controlled her rage. " Tell him I will send more of your kind his way. He will be busy soon."

In a last, desperate attempt to save his life, Servius made an attempt to roll onto his side, but he was met by the sharp steel of his own sword. It violently penetrated the unprotected skin of his neck, and pinned him down to the forest floor. A large flow of blood streamed down on the ground and with a last gurgle Servius crossed over to the Underworld.

" Gods-be-damned-son-of-a-two-headed-virgin," Mor cursed.

The rage was still coursing through her body and she needed all her willpower to keep herself from pulling the sword out of Servius' still body and hacking him into little pieces.

With trembling hands Mor pushed back her hair and lifted her face to the sky, closing her eyes and feeling the sun warm her already heated skin. She breathed in deeply and after a few moments she could feel her heartbeat return to its normal rhythm. She cast a look at Servius' body and realized she would have to dispose of it.

She grabbed the buckles of his steel plated body armor and pulled him through the bushes, into a ditch that would obscure him from the track. She knew she could not leave him there, but for the time being it would have to do. She would come back after dark and dump his body somewhere in a small, remote cave.

Mor efficiently covered the dark puddle of blood with some sand and leaves and wiped her hands on her tunic. Having done that she walked back to the tree where she had left the waterskin and fruit and slung the pouch over her shoulder.

Gently she picked up the daisy that she had picked some time earlier and when she looked at it she felt a stab of pain in her chest.

She had killed. Again. It was not like she had been given an option, but still. How would Isa react when she would tell her?

Mor bit her lip and felt a heaviness settle inside her heart. She realized that the night she had spent with Isa had been a turning point in her life. It had changed so many things. She had lost her heart completely to the small blond.

But after her violent encounter with Servius, would Isa still love her?

To be continued in part 10

Feedback and comments are welcome at

Return to the Academy