Hello my wonderful Steemits, I am so sorry to have been out of touch for some time but you know, I discovered I had a fan! Yess a real fan. They were so enthusiastic to see me they gave me a great big hug and took me into their car and we went for a drive. Now I have no idea where we went because it must have been a surprise, because they put a lovely scarf over my eyes.
When we did arrive they must have been a club of tourettes sufferers because whenever they spoke to me they could not control their speech impediment but I do know it was about my writing, such fans they were.
Anyhow the police turned up as I think there was complaints about the noise (they were shouting a lot, must have been hearing impaired too) and the police were kind enough to drop me home just in time to post ->
Chapter 4
The breaking sun issued in the new morning and with it was the hint of winter chill. Ruff opens his eyes and looks across to where Motyl slept. Unsurprising to him was that she was already about, making a fresh fire and readying a bread dough for baking, typical of a house slave. He watches her move around, soaking in her quaint beauty under the baggy leather armour.
After pilfering the dead bandits, not much of their clothing fitted her without it making her look smaller than she was. He spent half the night re-sizing it to her but it was still bulky and cumbersome. The hoody was the only thing she was particular about, he had long since went to sleep while she admired her new clothes. He smiled at how it now sat like a half mask over her face, with eye holes cut through for her to see and covering right to the base of her neck with only a portion of her hair falling from under.
“Morning Master, umm, I mean Ruff Hay” she spoke with her back to him.
He was surprised as he made no movement or sound save opening his eyes.
“How did you know?”
She looks around with a look of puzzlement as if the answer should have been obvious to him. “I heard you Ruff Hay, and saw your eyes open.”
“I never make any noise and you have not looked my way once since I have been laying here, so how.. no wait, I don't want to know, just keep doing your work.”
'Little skank is a witch and just won't admit it'
He rises and makes a short round of the site, to see that they did not have any more unfriendly visitors.
“There's no-one out there. Your tea will be ready.” she notes to him as she lifts the boiled water and pots the dough.
“I thank you to shut it and let me be the judge of that.” He snaps, then continues his round and before sitting on the ground near her.
“I am sorry Ruff Hay to have interrupted.” she speaks in a servant tone.
“I care to check, so let me do what I do best, and that is keeping myself alive.”
She nods and hands him tea in a mug, he sips and the sensational taste of the brew catches him by surprise.
“If you keep making great tea like this, I might not have to kill you.”
She freezes, a look of horror is plastered on her face, till he gives a rye smile and a devious chuckle. She relaxes but still eyes him with suspicion.
After finishing their breakfast, he ponders for a few moments before speaking. “Look Motyl, I don't need a slave, a house maid, a personal whore, a wife or someone I need to keep protecting all the time. Because as it is, at the moment you are a burden to me and I would be better off slicing you now, rather than you getting us both killed later down the track.”
She swallows hard, her eyes begin to well tears, but she holds her tongue and just nods solemnly
“So, best to start learning how to fight and how to protect yourself.”
She shoots him a surprised look.
“And if you get really good, I might make you my student assassin. But! You must be able to get a nick on my chin, If not it's the worms for you, got it.”
Motyl nods franticly. With that Ruff stands and pulls out knives. He throws on the ground near her and steps five yards away. Whisper picks up the knife and looks it over in fascination.
“Ok, show me what you got.”
“I never held a weapon before, no master would allow it.” she blurts.
“Well, you didn't even flinch when you killed those two bandits, so I know you have killed another before.”
She looks at him in fear of a secret she never wanted anyone to know. “Yes, I have, the occasional street thug and such but..” She hesitates but sees that it is already gone to far to stop “.. I killed one of my Masters. He was very cruel, he would do horrible things to all of us female slaves, so one day I killed him.”
“Well, good for you but I don't give a shit! Now come on and get me, Bitch!”
Motyl moves in to attack, Ruff instantly smacks the knife out of her hand and kicks her away. Motyl tries again and this time Ruff pulls her around like a rag doll and throws her to the ground. This happens several times, with Ruff disarming her with great easy or beating away her shoddy fighting skills. He grows with frustration.
'She's not even trying, come on you stupid child, show me, let me see that unnatural magic of yours.'
Motyl attempts again, and again till Ruff sees red. This time her attack is meet with a punch to the face which floors her, he stands over the top of her, his anger bleeding through.
“Come on you stupid bitch-” he slaps her across the face, Motyl is rooted in fear and the tears start to flow.
“- I expected better than this, not some weeping whore!” He backhands her, she cries in pain. Motyl holds up the knife for protection but Ruff rips it from her hand and throws it into the ground an inch from her face. She screams.
“I should just fuck you and slit you fucking throat-” She tries to crawl free of him but he grabs her and pulls her close to his face.
“Come on you slut, aren’t you even going to try and stop me!” She pushes against him and he feels some of her hidden superhuman strength.
'That's it Motyl, come on, give it to me, stop me.'
He spits in her face and yells at the top of his voice. “I should like to be that Merchant and fuck you up like he did!”
Ruff was rarely spooked by anything, but the look that came over Motyl made Ruff go cold and he felt his own face drain of colour. Faster than he could think, Motyl grabs him and throws him over her with such power, that he lands a good twenty paces away.
'Shit Ruff, that may have been a little too much'
He bounces out of the landing ready to face her down, only to be caught off guard that she is already upon him, knife in hand. Motyl is fuelled with rage in her attack and fights blindly. Her technique is amateurish at best but it is her lighting speed and incredible strength that makes Ruff use all of his professional skills, to stop her landing that knife. Now as he disarms her, the knife never gets a chance to hit the ground before Motyl snatches it mid-air and continues her assault on Ruff.
Ruff adds counter attacks to keep her off and though Motyl barely stops them, her speed in recovery gives Ruff no time to catch his breath. They are at it for an hour by Ruffs reckoning and he is tiring. She has not landed the nick but Ruff is too exhausted to keep it going and it needs to end now.
“Stop! Stop it Motyl. Enough!”
She stops immediately but still has a little of that fire in her eyes. Ruff bends over trying to catch his breath, sweat has drenched him through. As he glances up, Motyl is still fresh and breathing as if she has only been for a mild stroll. Ruff knows that this is not normal, even at her young age. Many a younger warrior would have been exhausted long before Ruff, and he would have been gloating over them as to how an aged old man beat them.
But Ruff is really feeling his age now, Motyl standing there, staring at him. But she isn't gloating, she is franticly scanning his chin to see where she landed her nick. Sadness slowly grows on her face the longer she looks, till she falls to her knees and starts crying.
“What are you crying for?” pants Ruff.
She looks at him through rivers of tears “I failed, I failed to nick you.”
Ruff staggers to her and looks down at her with pity. Motyl raises the knife for him to take. “Slit me, gut me, I don't care. Please just make it quick.” she closes her eyes, lifts her head to give him easy access to her throat, knife still held out in her hand, waiting for the pain and then darkness.
Ruff gazes at her for some time, looking at that beautiful throat, that angelic face and a bit of pride stirs in him.
'Shit girl, you are braver, stronger, than most of the men and women I have had to kill. When they get to this, they are shitting and pissing themselves. Pleading for their lives. Your one hell of a woman.'
Ruff bends down and grabs hold of her hand with the blade. He slowly pushes the point into his chin till it brakes skin, blood trickles down the blade to her fingers. Motyl's eyes snaps open and she gawks at what he is doing. Ruff pulls away the blade and points at the bloody chin in front of her face.
“Well look here child, I think you nicked me.”
She is stupefied as he leans in and pats her on the forehead of her hood. “You did great child, your skill is shit but you did great.” He straightens and staggers to his bedroll to rest. Motyl is left staring at the blood on the knife, rolling the blade back and forth as it dries. She looks to him then back to the knife and in that moment she realises what he has done. She holds the knife close to her heart as if it was a baby and tears of happiness roll down her cheeks.
'Thank you Ruff Hay, thank you.'