1 TIS BUT A SCRATCH

1567, ENGLAND

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Raven Stone swore ferociously and ducked as an arrow grazed her arm. Her target wove around trees, and whatever else grew in that damn forest, so throwing a dagger was out of the question. She redoubled her efforts and leaped, grabbing a branch and swinging herself from tree to tree, steadily gaining on him as he nocked and fired arrow after arrow without looking. He was good, she grudgingly admitted.

But she was better.

She sprang from the treetops, hurling her dagger at him, and he twisted to avoid it, returning her challenge with a swift kick, which she blocked. She rolled and charged at him, unsheathing two swords, and he cursed as he drew his own sword just in time to parry an overhead cut. The clash of their swords echoed around them as they pressed each other, looking for an opening. Raven dropped to a crouch, slashed at his legs, and flipped backward as his sword sliced down, earning herself a howl of pain and rage.

"You filthy bitch! I will strip your carcass for the vultures to feed on and your bones I shall collect for my dogs."

She laughed and charged at him again, feinting with one sword and jabbing at his chest with the other. He was beginning to tire and he knew she knew. She carried on relentlessly, waiting for him to make a fatal mistake and he didn't disappoint when he desperately struck out with a fist, leaving himself completely defenseless for a second. She crouched and stepped inside his guard using his momentum to throw him into the air. He landed flat on his back and tried to get up but she drove one of her swords into his left shoulder and into the earth, pinning him. This time he screamed.

She got up and retrieved her dagger from where it had landed when she had thrown it at him and went back to him. He saw the dagger and sneered as she placed her foot on his chest

"I am looking for the whereabouts of a man that burned down my village and slaughtered my people three winters ago. Why risk your worthless life to withhold such valuable information from me?"

"You filthy whore.", the man spat.

Raven sighed and stabbed her dagger into his thigh. Yet another scream of pain. She laughed.

"You bore me. Spare me a name lest you suffer."

His only reply was a glob of saliva aimed at her, which she eluded at ease. She smiled sweetly at him and unstrapped two hunting knives from her belt.

Three severed fingers, toes and an eyeball later, she'd learned what she needed to know about where King Clement X was hiding. The monarch who had sacked and brutally wiped out settlements near and far for his entertainment had gone into hiding for reasons unknown to anyone other than his court, who remained secretive and ordered anyone who so much as breathed a word of suggestion as to where or why the king had gone into hiding to be arrested and executed.

She had been searching in vain and was eventually fortunate to come across one of his high ranking guards inside a tavern at a nearby town and would not have known who he was if the fool had not grandly announced himself after several goblets of wine. He was armed, of course, and escorted by guards whom she had killed before she had tracked him down.

"Anything else, knave?" she asked.

"That is all I-"

A knife embedded itself into his skull, and he died instantly before he could finish his sentence.

Raven busied herself gathering her weapons and carried it to a nearby stream where she stripped and slithered in, savoring the cool water as it tingled against her skin and she let out a contented sigh, letting the water wash away all the blood and sweat. She winced at the graze on her shoulder, where one of his arrows had pierced her earlier. It was not a deep cut, but she hated injuries nevertheless. She ignored it as her body suddenly sagged with weariness. It had been a day or two since she had eaten a full meal or slept. She crawled out of the stream and laid next to her weapons, all cleaned and polished as darkness engulfed her.