Lyssa had been watching the bridge from the shade of the trees for at least an hour. The sun was directly above them and the mercenaries stood guard, wiping sweat from their brows every minute or so.

The group of people on the bridge had retired to the shade of the trees on the opposite bank. The priest had disappeared despite Lyssa’s best efforts to keep track of him in the crowd. She wasn’t sure he was even there anymore, because there was no one place that they were clustered around. They were all spread out among the trees. There was no way to tell how many there were.

It didn’t take much longer for the people to start stirring. They congregated around the path as if they could sense his arrival.

The priest stepped out of the trees at the head of a very large group. Next to him stood a woman dressed in white, who had an older woman hanging off her arm and sobbing.

A man tried to pull the sobbing woman away, but instead had to step away as the woman lashed out at him. They approached the bridge at a steady pace. There were a few other people sobbing in the crowd, but mostly the others were sterned faced and looking anywhere but at the woman dressed in white.

She wasn’t tied up and she didn’t look reluctant. No one had hold of her and she walked calmly to her death, as if the action held great dignity.

Lyssa rolled her eyes at the spectacle. This was one way to get the village on board. Use a willing sacrifice and make it sound like some great honour to serve a god through sacrifice. So now he had to keep up the ruse, by going all out with the ceremonial robes and specific sacred times of the day.

It was past time to put a stop to this.

Lyssa stepped out onto the path and strode towards the bridge. She didn’t draw her weapon, even though the mercenaries were instantly on guard with their own weapons drawn and levelled at her.

She raised her hands. “I’ve come to talk.”

“Really, because it looks like you’ve killed those keeping watch.” The priest shouted back.

Now that she was closer she could see he’d changed his robes. There was more gold thread throughout the entire length and it sparkled in the sunlight.

“They’re not dead.”

“That’s so gracious of you. How can we ever thank you.” He made a little mocking bow with his arms wide. Cowards were always so confident at the center of their followers.

She was going to make him bleed all over that shiny gold thread until it couldn’t be seen.

“I’m not here to talk to you.” She put as much disgust as she could into the end of the sentence. “I’m here to talk to them.” She tried to make eye contact with the closest of the villagers as she softened her voice.

“They don’t want to hear what you have to say, so if I were you I’d move on before we take more drastic measures.”

The people around him shouted their agreement and raised their fists. A few of them had farming implements they were obviously hoping they would get to use as weapons. The majority of them didn’t and that was what mattered. They would listen and they could be talked down. If she found the right words.

“You really think this is the best way to solve your problems?” Lyssa pointed to the rushing river. “If this is a god’s doing then they won’t be swayed by one sacrifice. How many people do you want to lose?” That had the crowd looking around at their friends and family. Only those who were here looking for a fight were still focussed on her.

“What do you know of our gods? They are compassionate and loving. They will do what needs to be done if only we are to do our part.” The people behind him were nodding their ascent.

It wasn’t their family being sacrificed this time. It might never be their family. Only the woman clinging to the girl in white was shaking her head.

“So loving that this god requires the death of a young woman. If this is such an honour why don’t you offer your life priest.” Lyssa managed to stop herself from spitting the last word.

The crowd behind him became silent and lyssa could feel the scales tipping in her favor. That question hadn’t occurred to any of them, but it had to Lyssa, who had lost more than one friend at the word of a priest.

The gods had never saved her people, she’d had to do that on her own. It’s only once you became powerful that the gods would get involved.

The silence stretched on for a moment and Lyssa doubted the priest had ever been challenged in this way before. He stood as if frozen in time, until the crowd around him became restless and it looked like a fight might break out between them.

“I would never presume, to be worthy, to take the place of one who has lived here all their life.” The priest stuttered through his reply. Then gaining more confidence in this new angle he hurried to add. “I’m but an outsider doing the bidding of these suffering people. I have no say in this. Just like you have no say in this.” He pointed the finger at her and angry glares followed it.

“Go back to where you came from.”

“This isn’t your business.”

A few loud voices erupted from the people, but if they were truly decided then they would have taken matters into their own hands by now.

Lyssa took a deep breath and reminded herself why she didn’t want to hurt these people. The last thing she wanted to do was kill them. There was still a chance she could talk them down but she had to keep her patience.

“Strengthening a god is my business. If you do this then the god controls the river and the lives of the people on the other side become forfeit.”

That made them stop the angry shouting. The ones who had looked uncertain before were taking a step back, but it wasn’t enough to diffuse the mob.

“They will be accepted with open arms and their lives will be richer by serving a god.” The priest had his arms spread wide, as if he would literally be giving every new convert a hug.

“That’s not serving that’s slavery.” Lyssa snapped. She cursed herself a second later for letting her personal feelings get the better of her as the priest had the perfect comeback.

“That is how you see it but other people find fulfillment in dedicating their lives to something greater than themselves.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore, completely confident in his safety. He only had eyes for the people around him, with the sickeningly satisfied face of someone who declared themselves truly fulfilled.

“I won’t allow you to murder her.” Lyssa was done talking in circles. This wasn’t going to happen and they needed to know that. They needed to back down.

“I don’t want to die but I will do my duty for the good of my people.” The girl in the white robes spoke up. Her sobbing mother still stood behind her clutching at her white cloth.

“You don’t think you can do more good alive?” Lyssa said with exacerbation.

“Enough this discussion is over. The people have spoken.” The priest made a motion with his hand and the crowd quietened.

“No you’ve spoken. I haven’t heard from them.” She looked at the confused frightened people who were still standing there, making themselves complicit in this by not walking away.

“We have already reached a consensus and the sacrifice is going ahead.” The priest raised his hand and pointed straight at the warrior. “Kill her.” His voice didn’t have enough weight for the order to come out as he intended. Instead of a man commanding his followers he sounded more like a little boy shrieking because someone was trying to take his toy away.

Lyssa moved into a fighting stance and planted her feet as she had done the day before on the bridge. Words had failed but at least she had tried. Even if the outcome was the same she had given them a chance. That had to count for something.

The warrior reached back over her shoulder to the golden hilt of her greatsword. Made by the artisans centuries ago and named Andraste for the victors it had been gifted to.

The fanged beasts winding their way around the hilt were said to be dragons but they didn’t look like any dragons she had ever seen. Like all named swords the blade was long with an edge that had never needed sharpening.

She’d have a harder time using it on the bridge, but the mercenaries weren’t waiting for her to come to them. Not with the priest shrieking at them to kill her. A few of the villagers took that as a cue to charge forward as well.

One man swung his sword at her.

Lyssa met his blade with her own. The blade separated cleanly from the handle.

She didn’t have time to enjoy the look of surprise on his face before she was turning to meet the next man trying to cut her down.

His sword bounced off hers but didn’t break.

She swung again in a wide arc. Their blades connected.

His sword shattered under the force into hundreds of tiny pieces.

Just another benefit of a named sword.

The mercenary stared in shock at his shattered blade and before he could recover she slashed his side.

He hit the floor clutching the wound as blood seeped through his fingers.

She turned just in time for the first man to impale himself on the tip of her sword.

He had a dagger in one hand raised above his head. He didn’t even have enough honour to face her in battle. What a coward.

She pulled her sword free. “You may survive if you find a healer.”

He ran into the forest, his legs already wobbling. He wasn’t going to survive, not in the direction he was headed.

She turned her attention back to the bridge.

The people were huddled together. Even the ones who were here for a fight, and had run forward to join the mercenaries, had retreated as they realised the odds were against them.

Not one had stepped foot onto the bank and off the stone slabs of the bridge.

The rest of the mercenaries had fled.

They knew they were outclassed and they couldn’t get paid if they were dead. These people though were fighting for their homes, and they might look scared but more than a few now looked angry. They must have used their own money to hire the mercenaries for protection.

She was the biggest threat now, even to the ones who weren’t here to fight. If she had been able to convince most of them to leave, before things took a violent turn, then she doubted any of the villagers would still be here.

The ones who had aborted their charge and retreated back to the middle of the bridge would have kept on running, instead of merging into the waiting crowd and feeling emboldened by the people around them.

“I don’t want to hurt any of you but I’m not letting this sacrifice go ahead.” She sheathed Andraste and walked towards them.

She had only drawn the great sword to make a point.

“Go back to where you came from.” One man screamed, before running at her.

He had a piece of wood in one hand, that might have been a tool at some point, and he didn’t look back to see if anyone else was with him.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the men to follow suit, along with some of the women. It was a pack mentality. One had attacked so they all would attack.

Lyssa was going to have no choice but to defend herself and if that meant her killing them, then so be it. She couldn’t allow another god to take over another place or people on her watch.