It was raining so hard I had to keep wiping the water off my eyebrows. Slinky, my good old donkey, was struggling with the muddy ground, slipping every few steps as I urged him up the small mound. Riding on my left milady Anna remained silent, as expected of someone mute, on her mare Lilly. Lilly was a beast, all midnight black from the nose to the tail; a fierce delinquent of a horse everyone back at the manor had thought it would be impossible for her to be ridden. But then again, if anyone could tame a beast, it would be the young lady Anna. With one single slap on the hind and the wild mare had become quiet and obedient. Now she quietly trotted on this muddy ground, nostrils occasionally flaring, to the top of the mound that had seen battles these past days.

We made no sound except for the metallic clinks from milady's armor. We didn't need to talk. In fact, she couldn't talk. At all. It was an excellent ingredient for whispered gossip among the townsfolk. A curse. A sin. An abomination. Such was this world's view on anyone born with defects; God's punishment. I glanced at her petite pale face; her eyes squinted and lips taut in concentration listening to the metals clashing and men screaming in the distance. A distance not far enough for my comfort. She noticed my gaze, and her head turned my ways.

'Sounds bad,' she made a flurry of hand signs.

"Yes, it does," I paused a bit before continuing. "Are you really going to do this?"

'Yes.'

Her reply made me grumble. She could have just nodded, but no, she had to go the extra mile by making the hand sign, too, for a simple single word. She gave me a playful wink and reined in Lilly to a stop; we had reached the top of the mound without me realizing it.

Anna had insisted we go up the high ground to take a better look. And she was right. We could see it very well. On the flat land about two hundred yards from us, some two hundred angry men armed with pikes, halberds, axes, maces, swords, and spears were throwing themselves against the wooden fence of Fort Montclam. A siege camp had been set up not too far from the Fort, with tents pitched and spikes raised at the perimeter. I suspected the spikes discouraged the defenders from charging out of the Fort and run the camp over.

'Fort? What a joke,' I scoffed. The 'Fort' was in its name only. It was more like a small camp with high wooden spikes arranged as its wall. That was somewhat understandable. Nobody in their right mind would bother to build a proper Fort here. I couldn't imagine any other purpose of the so-called Fort than to serve as a rest-stop for the rare patrols who'd reluctantly come out here every blue moon. Fort, my ass.

Numerous flamboyant banners flew high over the Fort's wall. Unfortunately, I was not well versed in the world of nobility and thus could not identify which represented whom. But even I could tell one particular banner depicting an intricate shield tangled in a thorny vain. It was the largest and the most prominent one among those of the Fort, indicating who was in command of the defense; Comte d'Armas, the count of Armas. Why he's here, though? This is the middle of nowhere. A piece of land so insignificant almost to the extent the loss of which would be deemed irrelevant. Why is someone like Comte d'Armas risking his life defending this worthless land?

The men attacking the Fort were trying to bring up the battering ram to the gate, but the defending side rained arrows and stones and hot oil down from the high platform raised behind the wall. I could sense the frustration of the men throwing themselves at the Fort trying to mount up the fence, and I could imagine why. What could have been easy steamroll over a handful of dead countryside peasants turned out to be a multi-day siege in the rain. I spotted the commanding officer angrily shouting orders, waving his shiny sword over his helmeted head. He was easy to identify as the man in charge, for he was a knight in shiny black armor, surrounded by knights in slightly less shiny armors. All sitting on their pompous horses draped in colorful sheets, and their squires flying huge banners. Anna, too, had spotted the nobleman in charge of this particular band of soldiers. Rows of archers lined up in front of the knights, sending hails of arrows to the Fort and its defenders. I could not see their faces from this distance, but I was sure they would look miserable with their padded armors soaked in the rain; exactly how I felt.

'He's way too far back to lead his men,' she commented with her hands.

"At least he's safe where he is."

Anna scoffed silently and reached back for her bow from the saddle. It was a simple bow we had made together back at the manor. We spent quite a good amount of time firing, soaking, curing, and strengthening the wood to get that right 'twang.' I tried pulling once, but it was surprisingly hard. I couldn't even pull the bowstring an inch.

'Announce my arrival.'

"Look, Anna. You really going to do this?" I had to ask once again. This crazy maiden is going to join the war, whether I liked it or not.

'This is why I descended unto this world.'

"Yeah, I know." I scratched my head. "But I don't understand why you had to drag me into this?"'Oh, are you still mad?' Anna gave me a smile, but it appeared more like a smirk.

"Never mind." I shook my head and reached around to rummage through the large sack on Slinky's back. I soon found what I was looking for; a thick square banner with a large pink rose embroidered on white felt, which was permanently stained with discolored blood. I then dismounted the foldable metallic pole from Slinky's side. I unfolded it to have the banner attached by the mechanism of rings and hooks. Thanks to the fact that the banner was already soaked, it drooped and draped around the pole. After some fiddling, I got it right by angling the pole to the side just enough for the banner to be hung in full display.

Anna sat up straight on her saddle; the rain droplets bouncing off of the gray-silver armor made 'plink' 'plink' sounds. Even with all that armor, you could tell this was a petite maiden, with slender limbs and a small head. Definitely, something you would not expect to see on any battlefields where limbs were chopped, and guts were spilled.

She gave me a nod as I reached for the bugle that I had hung around Slinky's neck. Thunder cracked in the rainy sky, and Anna looked up, grinning like a maniac. She turned to me again with a smug face.

"I know. I know," I shook my head. "Your friends are watching."

I took a deep breath and blew hard and long into the bugle. A single loud note rolled across the plain, and for a brief moment, the fighting stopped. All heads turned this way.

The rain suddenly stopped, and there appeared a small opening among the dark clouds. This miserable afternoon's sun that had been hidden up to now gladly shone its ray through the crack onto the armored maiden on horseback, like a bright spotlight. It was clear to me the bitches up there were joining in the fun and decided to make Anna's arrival as dramatic as possible. And there I was by her side, wet and miserable and scared. Holding up the banner that announced to everyone on the battlefield the arrival of the young Lady Anna, the sole heiress to the La Rose family of the Roseland. There was a collective gasp, and I knew why. As far as the rest of the kingdom was concerned, the La Rose family had been extinct. Yet here we were flying the banner, just the two of us, on the wrong side of the Fort's wall with some two hundred men of the enemy faction in front of us. Anna didn't seem to care. She was already straining the bow. The arrowhead wobbled slightly as she steadied her aim. The wobbling stopped, and then with a loud 'twang' that sounded more like a 'crack' the arrow was on its way towards the pompous enemy leader in black armor.

And I already knew she was going to miss. The bow was wet. The string was wet. And hell, even the arrow was wet. And... yes, as I expected. The arrow completely missed its intended target and pierced the thick helmet of a knight who was a few feet to the right. The unfortunate sod slumped and slid off from his horse. Very dead. The battlefield suddenly became very quiet.

Anna grunted and readied another arrow. Alas, she was too late. The lesser knights quickly surrounded their leader with thick shields raised. I was impressed by this. I had imagined them to be typical noble cowards sitting on their horses far away from the actual fight and just posing and shouting nonsensical orders. Seeing how quickly they pulled out their shields and formed up around the leader, I changed my mind. These were veterans.

Suddenly a horrible wailing sound pierced the air from behind the shield wall. Someone definitely was very sad. The archers hurried and formed up facing our way. With another 'twang' Anna sent the second arrow.

Even from this distance, I could hear the 'whack!' The arrow traveled in an almost straight trajectory and rammed into a shield with such a force the armored man behind the shield yelped as he was knocked down from his horse. His squire and retinue hurried towards him to help the man struggling in the mud get back up on his feet. In the meantime, his fellow knights quickly shuffled and filled the vacancy in their turtle formation. An order was barked, and the archers immediately responded by sending a cloud of arrows in MY direction. The arrows arched in the humid sky and... fell short by some fifty yards.

I let out a sigh of relief and glanced sideways at Anna. She had pulled the string ready to send the third arrow, but she paused. After a brief moment of thought, she decided not to shoot and relaxed the string. Handing the bow to me, she gently nudged Lilly forward. I reluctantly followed, riding on Slinky a few yards behind the black mare. I grumbled at the sight of the sunray as it oh so kindly and dramatically shifted its angle and kept shining on Anna. The bitches up there were really having fun.

The battlefield remained silent except the horrible wailing coming from behind the shield wall. Even from this far, I could tell all eyes were on Anna, following this lone slender suit of armor nonchalantly trotting towards the Fort.

The wall of shields surrounding the leader in black armor started moving towards their camp set up not too far behind. A series of orders were barked, and the men at the front slowly backed away from the Fort's fence. For some reason, the attackers decided they had seen enough action today. That was good. Very comforting news as far as I was concerned. The less fighting I got dragged into, the better.

My heart sank as four knights, fully armored from heads to toes, detached themselves from the shield wall and galloped across the plain towards us. Some thirty or so foot soldiers formed up and followed the horsemen; their eyes fixed on Anna. And me, oh, shit.

"Anna-"

But she just... waved at them. With a bright smile. We kept going, slowly moving towards the Fort. The bastards inside were not coming out to help us. 'Curse you, Comte d'Armas!'