A Princess in Danger

It really was her own fault.

That was what Vrasha thought to herself as she saw the three horses emerge from the turn in the road, the large hill in which they had been sheltering had blocked her sight of them until the last moment. Really, she should have been aware of it. The hill was large and old; and the road cut right to the foot of it before edging away. The route she was on was long and usually empty, so it was the perfect place for bandits to camp and catch a rare unwary traveller such as herself.

She should have seen it coming. She should have, but she hadn't. She was tired, several days on the road had worn her down. The fine clothes that she had started with had long since been traded for more practical riding clothes, and a bundle of her few belongings was lashed behind her on the horse. The animal itself was tired, they had been on the move for most of the day, and quite a lot of yesterday too. Her tutors had always told her that horses need to rest every few hours, but she'd been driving it hard, and now it seemed she was to pay the price.

Vrasha reined her horse to a halt, feeling the tiredness in how it turned its head. It kicked and snorted, not liking the situation any more than she did. But what could they do? She could already see that the bandits' horses were refreshed and rested. If she tried to run, she'd be caught easily. Plus, it was three on one, and it wasn't as though she had ever really killed a man...

Her hand went to the sword at her waist. That was one thing she hadn't traded away. it was a well made sword. A short sword, which could be drawn quickly and used swiftly. It wasn't fancy, there were no magical runes, no masterpiece marks. It was simply a sword.

Could she fight them all on her own? She felt a certain trepidation about it... Something dark and cold gnawed at her gut. Could it be fear?

She banished that thought, summoning her best haughty demeanour. She was Vrasha and, up until recently, had been in line for the throne. She wouldn't quail before three simple bandits. If they expected to see fear in her eyes, they would find nothing of the sort.

Even so, however, she felt nervous. Shifting in her seat as they approached. She was no fool, no pampered princes who knew not the world outside of the walls. A lone woman accosted by three bandits was likely to see more robbery than simply her belongings. Vrasha felt her heart beat faster. She gulped, but held steady in the face of her enemies' approach. She was a princess, and was determined not to flinch.

They were getting close now. She had to decide what to do. She could feel her horse's exhaustion. Running was not an option. But three on one was not a fair fight at all...

Vrasha refused to be cowed, her mind set to work, trying to find some way to flip the odds. She had her sword, and she was not unpractised with it. Though, she had never killed before, she didn't doubt that she could if pressed. Her riding leathers were only going to be good for seeing off glancing blows. They were hardy and tough, but would not stop a blade or arrow. One good hit would bring her low, and she knew it.

Vrasha was a Princess, or had been, at any rate, and her line was one of intelligence and cunning. She knew the odds were against her here. She knew that the chances of victory were slim. Perhaps, part of her mused, if she could not fight them directly, there was another way...?

They were close now. It was time to decide.