She had lived in the age of barbarism, in a world where the evils of men, had corrupted their souls and moved them to wickedness and despicable acts of bloodlust , cruelty and death. The Norcai had kept Taka from it for her entire life, and often warned her of it‘s perils. Taught her well they did, the ways of compassion and peace, and love too. But the nomadic Norcai, could not keep her from the horrors of reality for long, as the wickedness rode itself to her very doorstep, and consumed everything around her, until she was alone. And they came to slaughter and lay bare the flesh of those that she held dear to her heart, and the peace loving Norcai were no match for it. So as though a child, she crept away from their torches that came burning a brilliant light, in the dead of night, and watched in silent horror as all who stood were cut down before the sword, until all that was left was the deafening silence of death, and the faint crackle of the fire that destroyed everything she knew.

One stood before her hiding place, waiting for a sign, any sign perhaps, that any living thing should survive past this night. He waited until Taka could no longer be silent, and he clasped a firm hand around her ankle and pulled her from hiding. More came, all gathered around their leader as he inspected Taka almost thoroughly. She feared that she would be raped, but it wasn’t the prospect of rape that kept her from their blades. He was the largest of them all, and as he towered above, his shadow seemed to consume her.
“She is clean and well kept! No one touches her! She will fetch a handsome price at the next trade!”
They bowed before their leader Korak. And fetched a strong rope to tie Taka to a tree with, and then set about the search for food and drink. It was for a time such as this, that the Norcai had prepared her for, to hope when all things seemed most hopeless, to pray when it seemed as though the sky would grow the darkest, and no one would listen, nor answer such prayers.


But another came into the night, and seemed unwelcome by her new masters. One alone against many, stood up in their midst unafraid. He walked amongst them confident, strong, and inspected their deeds.
“You are all strong and virile indeed, to have slaughtered such innocents as the nomadic Norcai, such a peace loving people were surely no match for your blades.”
Korak stood before him in almost outrage.
“ I am Korak.. The leader of the Grome.. This does not concern you.. Leave this place.”
“And the Girl?” he nodded towards Taka.
“The wench belongs to me and is also none of your concern.”
He stepped in front of Taka removing his blade from its Scabbard.
“You are murderers and cowards, the girl is of free will and you will take her nowhere.”

Threatened by the cowardice of the horde, the one alone struck them down one by one. First the mighty Korak, who faced a blade skilled unlike any before he’d seen. Until all that was left was one who knelt before him, with hands raised in almost sheer terror, sobbing as though he were little more than a frightened infant.
“I beg of you sir.. M.. M… Mercy?”
The blade slowly rose.
“You?.. Pleading for my hand to be merciful? You who live the life of a simpleton and a coward.. Mercy? .. Dare you speak the likes of such things to me as Mercy? You know the ways of plunder, thievery and murder.”
His hands were raised in almost a state of panic.
“N..N..No sir!! I am but a humble farmer forced into the employ of the savages you saved me from!”
“Farmer eh?.. Well then look around you humble farmer.. Do you not smell the stench of spilled blood?.. Is this not the work of murderers?.. And were you and your brethren not about to add rape to your list of accomplishments?”
“Rape?? Merciful God NO!!”
“No?..”
He turned to look in the direction of the young woman tied to the tree.
“Farmer.. Life does not suffer fools, this is what I know, I look around at this cold place, and everywhere I see death, innocent blood spilled by the blades of nothing more than scoundrels, This I know because I too have spilled the blood of innocents. In the name of selfish kings, Aye, but spilled it none the less I have. Stand and raise your blade farmer.”
“No… I will Not!”
“You would rather breathe your last breath of life on your knees, rather than on your feet, with sword raised in defense of your own life?”
No Reply..
“So be it.”

Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright. © 2007