Kurzer Gastauftritt, back on my Svacky bullshit, ca. 1200 Wörter, heute mal auf Englisch. Inspiriert von diesem text post.
gern geschehen.
There were five of them. They rode in black, clothes padded and cut to hide the shape of their bodies, hair and faces covered by masks, except for the eyes. Their identities were a secret to all but themselves and the Queen, but they were known as Rattlesnakes, for they struck fast and with fatal precision. They did not always kill. That was not their place. Their task was to identify and capture threats to the kingdom, to kill only if the threat was immediate and could not be stopped any other way.
They found the aura of mystery and danger which surrounded them a bit ridiculous, as helpful as it was. They had found each other during the competitive training for the Queen’s personal guard and had gotten along well immediately. The fifth had joined their group a few weeks later, when it was clear that, while they would not be part of the guard, Queen Henriette had another purpose for them in mind.
Though she had been the last to join them, Jacky was undoubtedly their leader. She was the best fighter of the five, she was relentless in the pursuit of culprits, and she was the one who could motivate the others to ride for another hour.
Kalliope was the most knowledgeable; and knew the laws of the queendom by heart. In stark contrast to this, she was excellent at hand-to-hand combat.
Nixe’s strengths lay in the technical aspects – from poisons to tying ropes to explosions.
Sarah was a skilled witch and manipulator, but she only used her abilities if it was inevitable; she much preferred de-escalation by empathy and conversation.
Pauline, the Queen’s niece, was not only an expert on political ties, but also their fastest thinker; she solved a crime in the time it took the others to saddle their horses.
They complemented each other perfectly, they worked together like the cogs of a mill, they were skilled and experienced, and it frustrated Jacky to no end that their current mission still. Wasn’t. Over.
Word had reached the Queen of a group of highwaymen in a forest off in Gorell, a duchy in the west. They terrorised villages, stole goods, damaged buildings, and hurt anyone who dared come in their way. They hadn’t yet killed anyone, to their more than dubious credit, but it was probably only a matter of time.
Highwaymen weren’t the Rattlesnakes’ usual business, but this particular group was vicious enough to warrant an exception. They were seven, and thus not hard to find. What did one call a group of men sure of themselves? Recklessly loud, that’s what. It had been child’s play to literally smoke them out of their house and trap them, one by one (or, in the case of those twins, two by one).
The last one, though. The one whose hair looked like it caught the fire Nixe hadn’t lit to cause all that smoke. He had seen what had happened to his friends, evidently realised where the smoke was supposed to make him go; and had run in the exact opposite direction.
Jacky couldn’t even begrudge him. She would have done exactly the same. But it meant that she had to go run after him, leaving the other four to deal with the caught men, and face him in single combat when for some reason he stopped in front of the bridge across the nearest canyon.
Scared of heights?
She hadn’t asked. They never talked, because voices were as recognisable as faces and hair. She had drawn her sword, so had he, and they had attacked simultaneously.
He was good. Very good. A match for her, so far. Jacky knew that she should focus more on bringing him down, for he was a criminal and must face a trial, but she was enjoying herself more than she had in a long while. Her whole body was thrumming with energy, her senses were heightened, her heart was beating fast and steady, her limbs moved quickly, with grace and dexterity. The fact that he was just as good as her made this so enjoyable. Fighting a blunt brute with a club wasn’t a very graceful or interesting experience. But this fight was thrilling.
He seemed to think so, too.
“Rattlesnakes, eh?”
She didn’t reply.
“Legendary. I can see why.”
No reply.
“Not the talkative type, huh?”
We’re in a fight, dumbass.
“That’s fine, I’ll do the talking then.”
You do that, if it makes you happy.
“So, I’ve always wondered –” *dodge* “– who you are, and why you do this.” He jumped back from the tip of her sword and waited for a moment. “Because you’re obviously a very skilled swordsperson. You must’ve had training. And that sword – those aren’t easy to come by. You must’ve earned it.”
I could say the same about you.
She waited. He came closer.
“How about we trade?” He grinned. “I’ll tell you my name, and you’ll tell me yours.”
Absolutely not.
“I’m Sven.”
Your loss, then.
Jacky stepped to the side, turned on one foot and lunged at him. He reacted quickly, but she still grazed his cheek. Blood ran down his face, his neck, onto his red shirt. He snarled and attacked. Their blades crossed again, feet moving swiftly on the grass, breaths coming quicker and more laboured.
Jacky was glad for his silence now. He had wiped at the blood, smearing across more of his face as well as his hand, and he seemed more dangerous now, feral, unrestrained. It made her blood boil in a way she wasn’t supposed to like so much, to want so much. It was just a really good swordfight, with an admittedly handsome criminal…and it was her task to disarm him, to capture him, to take him to the Queen, where he would be sentenced to prison and –
She bent backwards. His blade swung past where her head had been a second ago. She was losing her focus. First things first: disarm.
Jacky increased her pace. With short, hacking blows she forced him back, towards the bridge. When he realised what she was doing, he wavered – just for a short moment, but it was enough. She deflected his blow, held the blade with her boot, and aimed at his arm. He let go, his sword fell to the ground. She forced him a few steps further back. When his feet hit the wood of the bridge’s planks, he stumbled and dropped to his knees right where she wanted him.
Sven knelt, held in place by the tip of her sword under his chin, his face bloodied – and he was grinning.
Grinning with one brow quirked up higher, with a wild flame in his eyes, with a slight tilt of the head that was a challenge in itself. Come on, it said. Do it.
Do what, Jacky wasn’t sure of. She had a lingering feeling that it wasn’t to do with her instructions.
It was an audacity.
And she was very glad for her mask, because she wasn’t entirely sure if her expression wasn’t perfectly mirroring his.
“Well”, he said slowly. “Now you have me.”
Looks like.
“What are you going to do to me?”
You seem up for anything.
He licked his lips.
Oh, fuck.
Jacky kept her sword where it was. With her free hand, she pulled off her mask.
Sven’s eyes widened just a bit more.
“Oh, fuck.”
