Leigha made no efforts to calm Silvering, for as she escaped the men who were after her and rounded the curve of the meadow to come into sight of her home, the scene that played before her eyes was far worse than what she had imagined would have happened to her had she been caught by her pursuers. A battle was being waged on the front lawns of the manse, and as Leigha’s tear-filled eyes looked about at the carnage before her, she saw her father fighting valiantly against the invading soldiers, his sword drawn high as he stood beside a great oak. All of the able men of the Keep were deep into battles of their own, many already downed by the swords and guns that the soldiers wielded so expertly. Silvering flared his nostrils and tried to shy away from the scene in front of him that his mistress was driving him towards, the stench of death making him rear his head in fright. Pulling hard against his reins, he attempted to change Leigha’s lead but to no avail as she held tightly on course, keeping her eyes on her father’s personal battle. Suddenly, a horseman came up behind her father and swung his mighty sword in a high arch. She saw her father fall to the ground in a bloody heap, the wound in his head gaping open where the blade had cleft it. Enraged and in shock, Leigha spurred her horse on harder and charged through the depths of the melee to the spot where her father had stood so bravely the moment before. As she confronted the horseman, she made Silvering rear up and turn so that his razor sharp hoofs fell down hard upon the man that had just killed her father so brutally. Without glancing at him to see if he were dead, she jumped down off of her mount and rushed to her father’s body. Grabbing his dagger from the sheath of his belt, she started slashing at the soldiers who were near her, all the while screaming her rage at the horrors around her and the grief that burned within her as a fire. Two of the soldiers came at her, and she dodged their blows with the agility of a cat. Turning, she struck one in the shoulder with her blade and smiled as she heard him yell in pain. The other man turned again towards her and grabbed a fistful of her bronze hair, winding it around his hand to hold her fast before she had a chance to elude him again. The bloody dagger within his grasp sparkled with the sunshine as he raised his hand high to strike. Just as he was about to bring it down into her breast, a hand grasped the attacker’s wrist, forcing him with its strength to drop the blade that so quickly would have ended Leigha’s young life. Off balance as the soldier’s hold slackened, she tumbled to the ground and glared at her would be assassin. The soldier, recognizing the man that had stopped him, backed up in fear as a deep voice chastised him.
Her home invaded, her father killed before her eyes…What would you have done?