"Stop! Where are you taking me!"
The young girl cried as the man grasped her hand firmly leading her through the country lane. The rain lashed down in torrents and the wind howled as they made their way on their journey. The din made her small voice barely audible.
"I'm taking you somewhere you're going to be safe..." came the stern, louder reply.
"But I don't want to go with you!" came the predictable response.
The man stopped; turning to look at the girl their eyes met. The anger in her young eyes pained him. Why could she not understand? Was it simply she was too young? He couldn't look at her.
"One day you'll understand why I need to do this. Why -we- need to do this..."
Oh, what was the point? The words were lost on her. The girl continued to stare up at him but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. For one so young her eyes were full of such hate. He didn't need to look at her to know this - he could feel it.
"I don't want to go with you - I have never wanted to go with you! I wish you just left me with mother and father!"
The words cut through him like a knife but he didn't show it. He brushed the rain and his sodden, tangled hair from the front of his face and turned to look at the girl. So young, so fair, and yet already so far aged beyond her mere years.
From the night came a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Hooves were approaching from the dark; threatening and unmistakable. The young girl recoiled, having heard it too.
"Stay close to me, all the time, and if I say run then you run..."
The girl made no response. There was no escape - the hedgerows either side of them were simply too high and they simply couldn't outrun a rider on horseback.
The man drew his sword from his scabbard. The hilt felt strong and familiar, reassuring even, in his hand. He killed the last two that they sent.
The hooves drew closer. The adrenaline rush in his body was so strong the noise of the wind and rain faded from thought. His vision tunnelled into the narrow country lane behind them as he awaited the arrival of the rider.
The world around him faded into nothingness. Awaiting the imminent challenge ahead he could have sworn that he felt two small hands clutching at his cloak behind him for protection...
