Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Cynehelme ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Cynehelme

by kmf

Warnings: AU

Rating: PG13

Standard Disclaimer applies

Chapter Two

Lying as still as possible the nun known as Sister Helen watched as the raiding party moved off pulling their new captives in their wake. Eyes narrowed in anger and frustration that the capture could not have been prevented. Only when the band had moved out of eyesight did a cold white hand come up to assess the damage inflicted by the spear. Blood drenched the wool habit, but a free flowing wound was not necessarily a bad thing. A good flow of blood would stop infection, but it was equally important to stop the flow of blood before weakness overtook and death resulted. The hand groped gingerly, and a deep hiss of pain resulted.

The hand pulled out from inside the habit two small bags of grain that had hung around Helen's neck, over 'her' chest. A small laugh escaped the pale lips; as odious as it had been to dress as a woman and a nun it seemed that the fake breasts had saved him from a mortal wound. He watched as grain spilled out of one of the bags to lie on the snowy ground, before dropping it and again touching the wound. Pulling away again the hand was held up to blue eyes. From the amount of blood on the hand the blood loss was easing.

"Shit! Heero is going to kill me!" The voice was no longer the soft voice of a nun, but now deep and gruff from pain. "Duo, how in the hell did you get into this mess?" he asked rhetorically, before pulling the veil and wimple from his head revealing long chestnut hair tied back in a leather thong

Of course, he knew exactly how he came to be in the middle of a wood in winter with a spear hole in his shoulder: Heero. Always it came back to Heero. Every reckless moment in his life had had it source in Heero; his foster brother, his war-band leader, his Prince.

Duo was a man of Mercia, one of the eight kingdoms that made up Britain. East Saxons, Wessex, Hwicce, Sussex, Lindsey, East Anglia, Kent and Mercia were all kingdoms that had sprouted from the confusion and conflict that erupted when Rome abandoned Britain. A War Leader had ruled each realm and each had fought bitterly against one another in order to gain lands and prestige. Until, that is until Aethelbert Peacecraft became King of Kent and through skilful fighting and a keen sense of diplomacy became High King of England.

Peace had come to the warring lands, peace that had lasted for several generations and which had culminated in the golden reign of the present High King Peacecraft. He had taken to wife a Christian Frankish princess and Peacecraft had converted to Christianity to please his new wife and also because he was enthralled with the doctrine. Their union had been blessed with a strong healthy son, Millardo. And when the second baby was conceived and difficulties in the pregnancy were encountered, the queen had dedicated the life of her unborn child to God if that child would be spared.

And so when their second child Relena was born healthy and strong the King had promised her to a prosperous Abbey and had granted the church a dowry of 150 hides of land*, a kingly gift indeed. No more children resulted from the marriage, the queen dying soon after the baby's birth, but Peacecraft was happy with the two children he had begotten. One was to be trained as a prince and leader of his kingdom, whilst the other was to take religious orders and be trained as the advisor of kings. Together he had thought that his children would create the most peaceful and prosperous paradise where all kingdoms could co-exist in harmony.

Unfortunately, this vision was now in danger of not coming to pass. Word had come to Mercia that the King of Lindsay had met with a fatal accident whilst hunting and that he was succeeded by an infant son of no more than three years of age. Soon after that it was heard that the child king and his regent mother had died from a mysterious illness and that the leader of the war band, Treize Kushrinada, had taken the crown for himself.

Odin, King of Mercia, had been disturbed by the news. Regicide, whilst uncommon, was not unheard of. It did not surprise him that rumours pointed to Treize being responsible for all three deaths; the man had a reputation for ruthlessly promoting his own interests. But what made the hairs rise on the back of Odin's neck was that he sensed Treize would not be satisfied with just one kingdom. Odin had quickly dispatched part of his war band to patrol Mercia's borders with Lindsay and his fears were confirmed when the patrol returned with tales of peasants being drafted into the Lindsay army.

Duo winced as he gathered up icy snow in the sheer material of the veil he had been wearing and pressed it against the spear wound high on his chest. He shook his head remembering the day when Odin had summoned Heero and Duo to discuss what to do. They had all been full of suggestions, eager to go and do battle with Treize, but Odin had held up his hand in protest and had said that he desired to protect the peace that the Peacecraft dynasty had worked so hard for, not destroy it. No, the King had decided, the war band would not attack Treize, but rather a delegation would be dispatched to talk to the High King to advise him of the danger and to seek his guidance on what to do.

Both Duo and Heero had been disappointed with this approach, but whilst Heero had wisely kept his peace, Duo had let his tongue run away with him. He had not meant to be disrespectful to the King, it was just that having been fostered by the ruler at an early age he considered him more a father than a king. And Heero had not helped, silently nodding in agreement to everything Duo said about honour in war, and the glory of battle. Unfortunately the King had only focused on what his foster son said and not what is blood son did. Finally the King had raised his hand and called for Duo to stop his speech.

"Very well." he had said, his eyes glittering in the smoky firelight of the hall in which they had sat. "I will give you the opportunity to perform deeds that will be remembered in song for many years hence." Duo had puffed up in pride. "You will protect Relena Peacecraft for I am sure she is key to Kushrinada's plan. If he kills the High King and his son and then weds the daughter he will have a firm claim through her to the crown."

Duo had nodded content with an image of rescuing a beautiful maiden in distress until he saw Heero's eyes narrow. "She is a nun." Heero had said, "The Sisters trust in their God, they are unlikely to trust in a strange man's sword for their protection."

"She is a novice and has not yet sworn herself to her God." Odin corrected, sipping from his ale cup. "But it is true that they would not accept your sword whatever the danger." His eyes had twinkled as he looked at Duo "That is why you must become to them a nun and protect her secretly."

The snorts and laughs haunted Duo to this day. Duo had wanted to protest, but the Kings word was final and he had to obey. And so he became Sister Helen. The women of the Kings Hall delighted in dressing him and instructing him on how to take small steps as a woman would, and how to disguise his height by stooping a little. Hilde, the woman who was promised to him took particular delight in making him false breasts from little sacks of grain. When he had protested that they did not feel right, she had slapped him and asked curtly just who would be feeling them in a nunnery?

Hilde had been heart broken to see him go; she had given him many warnings to keep his eyes to himself and not to be swayed by Christian temptresses. Duo had laughingly told her as he kissed her good bye that only ugly women would lock themselves away from men and that he only had eyes for his beauteous Hilde. Relena Peacecraft, however, had proven to be the very opposite of ugly.

Relena had been especially kind to him when he arrived at the Abbey, nervous and uncertain of the holy women's regime. Her pale blue eyes had shined with innocence and kindness. Her face, though shrouded with veils, was pale and lovely and Duo had been sure that once the nuns habit was stripped away, her body would be equally as lovely. And she was intelligent, as she was lovely. She could read and write, something that only sons of Kings could do in his tribe, and her voice when singing psalms was clear and true. Her innocence enticed him as once Hilde had enticed him. At night time Duo was almost relieved that they were all shut into their separate little cells so that the temptation that was Relena was removed from him. He would shut his eyes and think hard of Hilde and the damage that she would do to him if she knew that he was straying.

At regular intervals he would meet up with Heero and the war band in the woods that the Abbey was next to and report that all was well and that no attempt had been made to steal the princess away. Heero was curious about the girl, and Duo in a fit of jealousy and protectiveness had told Heero that she was an ugly girl, tall and hulking with bad breath and a limp. "Like you as a woman then!" had come a cry from one of the men of the war band who easily evaded Duo's fist due to Duo's movements being restricted by his tight underskirt. Heero had merely raised an eyebrow and nodded, given instructions that they would meet in another two weeks and had ridden away.

Duo perked up somewhat, as he shakily got to his feet. The two weeks were almost up so Heero would be close. If it did not snow again, the band would easily see the tracks and blood and determine that some sort of melee had taken place. In the meantime, he would track the fleeing slavers and see if an opportunity arose that would enable him to snatch his princess back.

His eyes narrowed. Her purity should be safe; virgins commanded a premium where trade was concerned. However, that did not mean that she wouldn't be debased in other ways. Duo was determined to prevent that, or die trying. Mentally he apologised to his faithful Hilde before trudging off in the direction that the slavers had gone.

* * * *

Heero frowned as he surveyed the land around him from the back of his horse waiting for the scout he had sent out to return. He absently watched as his breath misted in the cold winter's air and he shifted his weight slightly trying to allow the blood to circulate to his legs again. He and his men had been riding hard for days, ever since they had been given the dire news.

Peacecraft, King of Kent, High King of the Britons was dead along with his son Millardo and his son's pregnant wife Lucrezia. Treize Kushrinada and his warband had put them all to the sword. Kushrinada had then declared himself the new High King. Kent was in turmoil, half the population outraged that their King had been murdered, whilst the other half were content to accept anyone as King so long as it preserved the peace that had always had. The threat of civil war was great and Odin foresaw that Treize would now attempt to acquire the last remaining Peacecraft and secure his hold on the kingdom via her.

Heero's leather gloved hand gripped tightly on the rein of his horse causing the animal to snort and fidget. He forced himself to calm down and stroked the neck of the animal whilst still looking towards the snowy woods. After Odin had given him the news he had instructed Heero to immediately return to the Abbey that housed the last remaining Peacecraft and key to the throne of Britain. He was to ensure her safety and bring her back to the Kingdom of Mercia. Heero agreed with his father's actions; if Treize became High King then demands of tributes would be sure to follow and threats of war if they were not fulfilled.

Unfortunately it seemed they had not acted swiftly enough. Upon arriving at the Abbey they had found that the Abbey had closed its gates to all visitors, the nuns sequestering themselves to pray. Heero had then visited the village near the Abbey together with several members of the band. They moved cautiously unsure of whom they would encounter, making sure that their cloaks hid the steel swords that hung from their belts. Frightened people would not talk; it was best to gain their confidence by acting as simple travellers.

Their caution paid off. Rumours flew around the little village that four nuns had disappeared whilst they were walking in the wood. Heero had exchanged a brief glance with Trowa who immediately understood his warlord's command and disappeared into the woods to hunt for signs. Heero and the rest of the band stayed long enough in the village to find out that no one knew where the women had gone. It was suspected that they had disturbed a hungry bear and had suffered the consequences. Satisfied that he would learn no more, Heero returned to where his war band lay in wait, mounted his horse and followed Trowa's footprints into the wood.

A bird whistled, bright and clear, and Heero held his hand up to stop the forward movement of his men. Trowa appeared in the distance, trotting in a naturally graceful rhythm despite the snow that clung to his leather shoes. His breath puffed white at regular intervals in the freezing cold of the winter evening, but he was no means winded. He clambered up on his horse that had been led by one of the men and gestured with his head the way he had come.

"They were attacked just up there. One was injured and left behind - Duo at a guess given the depth of the footprint. He has followed after leaving markers on trees". Trowa lifted a hand showing a little strip of material. "No horses, all on foot."

Heero nodded and could not help but smile. "So Duo has found a way to rid himself of his habit!" he said before his smile faded and he issued a brief instruction to his men "Lets ride hard. I feel the need for a fight before nightfall." He urged his horse into motion by pressing his heels into the animal's flank and letting loose a whoop.

The war band answered back with whoops of their own and the hunt was on.

* * * *

It was early evening before the slavers chose to stop satisfied that they had left all possibility of pursuit behind. They had travelled to the edge of the forest further than Relena had ever in her memory been. Before them stretched a vista of rolling down lands, white with snow and barren in the dull gloom of twilight. The clouds hung heavy and low threatening to shed yet more snow upon the winter frosted ground and Relena did not believe she had ever felt so cold.

Relena was once again bereft of her shawl. The man who had failed to catch her when she had tried to flee had retained it. He had taunted her with it several times during their enforced march, rubbing it up against himself and blowing her kisses. She had hung her head in embarrassment, her checks red with more than just the chill of the air.

Her fellow sisters faired little better. Sally was still a little dazed from the blow she had received to her head, although as evening approached she was becoming more herself. Dorothy still had a look of cold disdain upon her face, sneering at every man that dared to catch her eye. However when they were allowed to stop walking and to rest the look of defiance faded from both women's eyes as the cold began to creep into their bones. They all missed their veils, without that covering they had nothing to protect their heads from the cold. Relena was a little more fortunate with her long hair covering her ears and her neck, but Sally and Dorothy both had the shorn hair of nuns to signify their humility and willingness to sacrifice their vanity for God.

They huddled together to try and gain some warmth whilst they looked on at the men setting up camp. A small fire was made using deadwood from the fringe of the forest. Most was wet and it was a struggle to get it lit even though dry tinder had been carried. Once it was lit, it smoked appallingly and burned cold so that all the men had to huddle around it to get any benefit.

Once the bond on their hands had been checked, the women were left to their own devices. Warnings were issued for them not to try and escape; wolves roamed freely and were hungry this time of year. Dorothy had snorted, but looked about, her face pale, when she did hear distant howls. After that she ceased to worry at her bonds and sat quietly only shivering now and then.

Eventually the noseless man and his blind companion wandered over to them. The noseless one threw them each a strip of dried meat, and crouched down to regard them grinning slightly as they stared back. Finally Relena spoke

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking from fatigue, cold and shock.

"Money." the noseless one replied "Nothing more, nothing less."

Sally shook her head in disgust, before narrowing her eyes and glaring at them "You are not even lepers, are you?"

"Merchants." Noseless gave an ironic smile "Once very successful, but our ship was attacked by seawolves, our gold stolen, our brothers killed. Jay and I were lucky to survive." his lip curled as he took in his brother's appearance and absently rubbed where his nose once had been. "A ship is a very pricey thing. In order to become merchants again we need enough gold to obtain one. Virgins command a high price in the slave trade, and nuns are guaranteed to be virgins." He grinned at Dorothy's snort of disgust. "You mustn't hate Jay and me." he said "You should be grateful. Believe me, your new masters will pay a fortune for you all and will treat you well."

"For a little while." J cackled, rocking backwards and forwards.

Noseless ignored his brother "You will live like Princesses, dressed in oriental silk and velvet in such luxury as you have never dreamed of." he continued "The price of your virginity is such a small thing to pay."

Sally found her voice, her eyes narrowing "Are you trying to justify this outrage to us or to yourself, slaver?"

The noseless man suddenly got to his feet. Glaring he turned and led his brother away. Dorothy rolled her eyes.

"If you had been a bit nicer we might have been given blankets for the night." She said as she raised the dried meat strip to her mouth with her bound hands and attempted to chew it.

Sally shook her head "I will not prostitute myself for silks, nor blankets, nor food." She threw the meat away from her in disgust. "I have sworn myself to God and I will die before I allow myself to be touched by any man." she looked sideways at Relena who was staring at the meat that lay in the folds of her habit with obvious hunger in her eyes. "That is my choice Relena. Yours is your own. You have not yet made your vows so you should eat." Sally looked at Dorothy who was chewing hard "I see that you have already made your decision."

Dorothy sniggered as she ate "If I have, it is the first time in years that I have been allowed to. I made no willing vow to God. It was not my choice to become what I am. I made a mistake and this" she gestured at her hair "is my punishment. Rest assured that I will never allow myself to passively go where I am directed again. I will never become a slave. But nor will I solve this by starving myself to death."

Relena looked at Dorothy in surprise; of course some women were forced to become nuns through poverty or lack of suitors. Sometimes widows would take orders when they had no family to live with. However ill suited Dorothy was to be a nun, Relena had never considered that she was one as a punishment for a deed.

Dorothy smirked at her before attacking her meat again. Sally bowed her head. "Each to their own." she murmured before starting to pray. Relena watched her for a moment trying to gain comfort from the words she uttered, but her stomach was protesting too much for her to find any solace in the prayer. She closed her eyes willing herself to ignore the discomfort when she suddenly felt a nudge on her leg. Opening her eyes she saw that Dorothy had kicked her. She opened her mouth to protest, but Dorothy shook her head.

"Listen" she mouthed, and Relena did.

The camp had gone quiet, the men were looking about hands gripped on spears peering into the gloom of the night. The noseless merchant had started back towards them leaving his brother behind crouched in the snow. A sudden whooping yell startled them all, Sally's eyes sprung open as she cried "Dear God, what now!"

Out of the trees came men on horses, a good dozen, yelling war cries and swinging swords. The slavers gaped and tried to defend themselves but spears were of little use against the rare expensive swords that these newcomers carried. Cries of pain and fear rose as swords shattered spears and sank into flesh. Jay sprang up, his hands held out before him calling for his brother. The merchant ignored his brother and ran towards the women. Dorothy clambered to her feet, her eyes determined.

"Flee!" she screamed at Sally and Relena who needed no further urging. They all ran in separate directions. Noseless hesitated, then followed the richest prize of the three women - the one with long golden hair. Relena, looking back, saw that she was being pursued and tried to put on extra speed. She was hampered by her bound hands and could not find an easy natural rhythm to run at.

Thundering hoofs sounded near and she looked back to see a warrior chasing her and the slaver. The warrior was a terrifying sight, his cloak flew back in the night air, his messy brown hair flying in the wind. His horse worked hard, foam around its mouth and great puffs of steam issuing from its nostrils so that it looked for an instant like a dragon. His eyes were narrowed, but even in Relena's terror she could see they were unusually deep blue and cold. He was laughing, a fighting lust upon him. His sword arm was held high, his blade already slick with red blood. The slaver also turned to see the warrior approach and gave a high scream as the blade swing down cutting him from shoulder to waist. As the scream faded, the warrior's laugh burst forth anew.

Blood arced high from the cut, showering the snow. Relena felt hot drops land across her face and felt sick with panic as the man showed no sign of slowing, instead rode directly at her. His mouth was still pulled into a cruel smile and Relena felt little doubt as to what he intended. She spun and ran again from the pursuing warrior and the death he held for her.

TBC

*1 hide - 150 acres, enough land to support a family