How NOT To Rescue A Damsel In Distress - A Fantasy Short Story

I figured I'd share another story with you guys.

This is the first short story I ever wrote, and it may be a little rough around the edges. But I still like it, and hopefully you will to. As the title implies, it's about a guy who goes off to save a girl from bad guys. And then things go downhill from there.

Enjoy!

Artwork copyright Stormolino, licensed through Dreamstine

How NOT To Rescue A Damsel In Distress

Larian awoke to find himself dangling by his wrists from a ring in the ceiling. He could just barely touch the floor with his tiptoes. Not quite enough to relieve the pressure on his wrists. The rope that bound them was rough; already he could tell his wrists were rubbed raw. Things had most certainly NOT gone according to plan.

Freshly graduated from the Martial Academy in Tel Cerelon, he returned home on leave to see his friends and family…and his girl…one last time before heading off to the front.

There was a war on, sure, but the General Staff was reasonable about those sorts of things. Some argued it was foolish to allow recruits leave so soon. The Mar Tabban would never do such a thing. But then, isn’t that why they were fighting in the first place?

Larian was excited to get out to the war, but he was still glad for the chance to say goodbye. To say he was disappointed and angered when he arrived home to find his father barely holding on to life from a sword cut and his girl kidnapped by brigands would be a vast understatement.

When he learned the details of what happened, he strapped on his armor, belted on his sword, and set out after the brigands. Several of his friends tried to talk him out of it. The brigands were too strong. He was going to get himself killed. Rosaline would be dead or sold to flesh peddlers by the time he caught up to them.

But he would hear none of it. He was a trained soldier, the best swordsman in his recruit class, and these rabble would feel his wrath, by heaven!

He never stopped to think that he was just one man against a dozen. Or that some of those dozen may have been as well trained as he, that some may have been army deserters. Or that they had more experience in laying ambushes and tracking than he.

It was with almost laughable ease that he fell into the brigands’ trap as he approached Jergan’s Peak. One moment he was following the faint trail of their passing, and the next he felt a hard tug on his ankle and found himself hoisted up into the air. Taken by a simple lasso booby-trap!

He didn’t have time to curse his stupidity, as the brigands emerged from the underbrush and set upon him. Though upside down, he was far from helpless. He managed to gut one of them before the others got his sword away and bound him fully.

“Freshly-minted soldier boy trying to play hero, eh?” mocked the brigands’ leader after the dust settled. “I bet you came for this, didn’t you?”

He tugged on a rope in his hand, and Rosaline came stumbling out from behind a nearby tree. Her hands were bound behind her back and she wore a collar around her neck, which was attached to the rope in the leader’s hand.

Anger blotted out fear in Larian’s mind when he beheld his girl in that state. “Let her go, you bastards!” he growled.

The leader laughed in his face.

“Let a choice piece of ass like this go? Because you say so? Not a chance.”

Pulling Rosaline closer, he made a point of fondling her and gave Larian a lecherous wink. “I think I’ll keep you alive so you can watch me show her a good time or two. Before I do you like you did Rudrick.”

To his henchmen, he ordered, “Drug him!”

Larian struggled as best he could, but the brigands had little trouble forcing a potion of some sort down his throat. Before long, his head started to spin and he dropped into unconsciousness.

So here he was. Some hero.

The worst part was that he’d be declared a deserter when he didn’t return from leave. Not only would he be dead, but his family’s name would be tarnished forever. It just wasn’t fair.

Frustration, fear, and despair all welled up in his mind, and he felt tears begin to form in his eyes. Blast it! He was supposed to be a soldier. A man! He needed to get ahold of himself. There were plenty of stories about fellows getting out of worse fixes than this.

He looked around the room, trying to find some way to free himself.

In reality, room was probably a misnomer. He was in a small hollow of rock, maybe five feet across and five deep, with an opening leading to a larger rock chamber in front of him. It appeared he was in a cave complex.

He didn’t see any guards, but there was a flickering light to the left, and he heard a couple voices engaged in conversation. More light came from overhead as well. Looking up, Larian could see a narrow shaft that allowed sunlight into the chamber. If he could just get to that shaft somehow, it looked like an easy climb.

The voices became louder, and a moment later two rough-looking men stepped into view. Both wore thick leather armor and had broad-bladed swords on their hips. Numerous scars crisscrossed the older man’s face. The younger was actually fairly well groomed, with strong features that Larian supposed a lady might find appealing.

Seeing him awake, the older man emitted a nasty little giggle and nudged his comrade with his elbow.

“Oh good. Keep an eye on him, and I’ll let Wellis know he’s ready for the first session.”

With that, scarface turned and hurried off.

The younger brigand frowned slightly. “Better for you if you’d not awakened, friend. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what’s about to happen. Robbing a man, or killing him in a fair fight is one thing. But this…” He shook his head slowly. “Not my thing.” Was the brigand actually looking at him with pity?

“Well, you could just let me go, if it bothers you so much. You could say I managed to wriggle free and got the better of you.”

The brigand looked at him like he was nuts. “I’m not that sorry. It’s my ass if….Aggghhhh!”

Larian was amazed to see the tip of a sword emerge from the front of the brigand’s chest. The brigand choked and spluttered for a moment, clutching in vain at the blade, then his knees buckled and he slid off the blade and to the floor, dead.

Rosaline stood behind him, Larian’s now bloody blade in her hands and a fierce light in her eyes.

“Rosaline??? How did…”

She raised a finger to her lips, and he shut up. Moving quickly, she ducked out of sight, then returned a moment later with a stool, which she set on the ground in front of Larian. Setting his sword down and pulling a knife from behind her belt, she stood up on the stool and set to work cutting the rope. As she cut, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“The guy they had guarding me kept ogling, so I convinced him I would let him…well, you know.” She flushed red in her cheeks, but her lovely face remained determined and focused. “He kissed me, and I unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. Of course he didn’t think of anything but what he wanted, so he didn’t notice I had his knife until I gelded him.”

Larian felt a sympathetic pain in his gut. True, these brigands were scum, but still, that was just harsh. Wait a minute. “What do you mean, you kissed him?”

Rosaline gave him a level look. “Focus, Larian. Do you want to get out of here or not?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Then shut up. I’ve almost got it.” She began sawing at the rope more briskly, and Larian could feel the knot begin to loosen. Hope, so close to gone a moment before, surged within him. They were going to get out of this after all! Then, he heard voices. Several of them, and getting nearer.

“Hurry, Ros. They’re coming. Oww!”

The last strand of the rope parted beneath Rosaline’s knife, but before she could stop her cut, the knife also bit deeply into the flesh of Larian’s right hand.

The sudden release of the rope came as much a surprise as the cut to his hand, and he dropped to his knees before he was able to catch himself. He bumped Rosaline as he fell, and she tumbled to the floor also. They had barely begun to extricate themselves when three brigands rounded the corner, the leader in front.

“Here, what’s this then?” The leader took in the situation at a glance, his scowl deepening when he saw his fallen man. “You’ll be a long time in dying. The both of you.” Over his shoulder, he barked “Kolin! Gil!”

The two fellows with him, one of them Larian’s old friend scarface, drew steel and moved forward.

Larian moved frantically to his feet, grabbing up his sword from where Rosaline dropped it. His right hand was covered in blood, but he had no time to wipe it off or to stem the flow before the brigands were on them.

He parried a cut from the first brigand and nearly lost his grip during his riposte when the blade twisted in his grip. As a result, the flat of the blade struck the brigand on his cheek, so what would have been a killing blow merely sent the fellow reeling into his comrade.

In the brief respite that followed, Larian wiped his hand on his shirt and look a firmer grip, readying himself for a second pass.

But it turned out to be unnecessary. Rosaline leaped onto the brigands while they were still tangled together, her knife darting to take the first in the throat and the second in the chest. Both looked unbelieving as they fell, stricken by a petite female. The brigand leader was stunned as well. Eyes wide, he looked from the two dead men to Rosaline and back for a moment. Then he laughed, a throaty guffaw that echoed through the cave chamber.

“The kitten has claws! I’m going to enjoy this.”

He moved so quickly, drawing and attacking in one fluid motion, that Larian didn’t realize the brigand leader’s sword was out of its scabbard until it was almost to his throat.

Only a desperate upward parry and a leap backward saved his life, but his back slammed into the cave wall, and he lost his breath for a moment.

The leader advanced, sensing Larian’s disorientation, but again Rosaline saved him. She came at the leader from the side, her knife stabbed at his kidney.

He didn’t even look away from Larian as he removed his left hand from the grip of his sword and grabbed Rosaline’s knife-hand in mid-stab. She blinked in surprise, then squealed in pain when the leader turned his hand over and pressed up, putting her into a wrist-lock that forced her up onto her toes.

Larian heard the clink of her knife hitting the stone floor as he pushed himself off the wall. He attacked, a low cut that stopped midway and became a rising thrust toward the leader’s sternum.

But he was unsuccessful again.

The leader executed some kind of spiraling parry that Larian had never seen before, and somehow he found himself stumbling forward, seeing stars as the pommel of the leader’s sword struck him on the back of his head.

Larian hit the deck hard, losing his breath for a second time.

He expected the killing blow to fall, but it never came. He heard scuffling above him, then a gurgling groan and a heavy thud next to him.

He turned his head and found himself looking into the brigand leader’s wide, dead eyes. Forcing himself to his knees, he saw a knife buried hilt deep in the leader’s solar plexus. Disbelieving, he looked up at Rosaline. She was breathing heavily, but appeared unharmed.

“How?”

She shrugged. “He lost focus, and I had another knife. Good job distracting him, Larian.” Rosaline took his hand and helped him to his feet. “Are you ok?”

“I will be in a minute.” Rubbing the back of his head, he breathed deeply for several moments. Then a thought hit him. “You didn’t see my armor anywhere did you? It’s army issue, and I’ll have to pay to replace it.”

Rosaline nodded. “It’s around the corner, with the rest of your stuff. That’s where I found your sword.”

“That’s a relief.”

They stepped around the corner and retrieved Larian’s armor. It took several minutes to don it, even with Rosaline’s help. Every time part of the armor clanked, Larian thought sure the remaining brigands must have heard, and would be coming running.

But that never happened. Although as he thought it through, Larian realized if they hadn’t heard all the fighting, they wouldn’t hear this comparatively soft noise. Still, where were they all?

“You look very handsome in your armor, Larian” Rosaline said as she tugged one of his chest straps tight.

“Wha-? Oh. Thanks. It feels good to wear, actually. Once it’s all on, I almost don’t feel the weight, it’s balanced so well.” He gave her a quick grin, then looked away, down the cave toward the next chamber.

“What are you looking for?”

“By my count, there should be six more of these guys here somewhere. They could come any minute.”

“Oh.” Rosaline stood, having finished tightening his straps, and looked away, biting her lip almost shyly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well…see, they kept me in a store room behind their sleeping quarters. After I did for my guard, I came out and found four of them asleep.” She made a cutting gesture across her throat with her hand. “Then there was another one in the hall I managed to catch from behind. And I think I heard they were sending one guy to town for supplies.”

Larian’s jaw dropped. For a long moment, he was completely speechless, then he started laughing uproariously. Rosaline frowned slightly and rested her hands on her hips.

“What’s so funny?”

He raised his hand in a placating gesture. “It’s just, well, I came here to rescue YOU, and it appears that was completely unnecessary.”

Her frown changing into a gentle smile, Rosaline stepped forward and embraced him. “Larian, I love that you came to my rescue, but after they captured you…” He opened his mouth to speak, but she laid a finger on his lips, silencing him. “I’ve been saving myself for you. There’s no way I was going to allow those…beasts…to have my maidenhood. Better to die fighting. You taught me that.”

Larian blinked, then smiled sheepishly and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Eventually they parted, and he quipped “That’s my girl. Let’s get out of here.”

It took the best part of the day to get back home. They arrived just after dusk, to the amazed delight of their neighbors, friends, and family.

That night, the town threw an impromptu party that turned into a full-on celebration when the citizens learned the brigands’ fate. Later, after the party died down, Rosaline taught him another part of what it means to be a man.

The next day Larian’s father awoke for the first time since the raid. The village healers were amazed, calling it a miracle.

Larian had three days before he had to depart to make it back in time before his leave expired. Those days passed quickly, but they were among the best he could recall in his entire life. All the same, when he left town, he reflected on his adventure and decided that when he got to his platoon, he was not going to speak a word of it to anyone.

Ever.

*****

If you like the story, please go to one of the stores below and leave a good review on it, and then buy a copy (I am a professional and like to be paid):

1. Ebook or Paperback
2. Audiobook

Visit My Website - http://michaelkingswood.com
Say Hi on Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/michael.kingswood
Or on Twitter - http://twitter.com/michaelkingswd

Sign up for my newsletter to receive notifications of new releases (guaranteed spam-free) - http://www.michaelkingswood.com/newsletter-signup/

Support Me On Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/michaelkingswood

Finally, here are my various wallets if you want to give me a tip.

BTC - 1JbEz6gXM2jQSqMNkECfnA18XN31Q2t8h2
ETH - 0xcbf16a75f0de8d089011de5ca4d3e08e5527684e
LTC - LZzcqyw8h5TQ5JPyuSs3kZc9aRC7ojz51v
DSH - Xdf1jpwR5nj95MEMvAye7f4T9RPehwS3Ww
ZEC - t1f4SsfdpeC43mSYfrLSfEamoFqK4odW2KQ