Evening. Here's a little snippet from the first draft of the novel I'm working on. Enjoy!

Blessings,
~The Dark Diva

Untitled - Draft

She stood on the edge of the battlefield, watching me as if she was weighing my worth, testing my honor. In that moment between sword thrusts, I sensed her presence and it sent eerie shivers up and down my spine. I thought she was Death, coming for me. I realized that, if she was here for me, then I would soon be dead, and I would have failed my mission. There would be no honor with my death, only pain. I braced for the inevitable even as my body turned to parry the thrust of the enemy’s sword. But the inevitable did not come that day. I fought for hours with my warrior cohorts and, in the end, we drove off the mercenaries that had plagued our land for the past year. We were victorious.

“You fight like the Warrior’s Own.”

I looked up from cleaning my blade free of blood and was startled to find that the woman I had thought was Death was but a woman and standing but a few feet from me.

“Nay, I am not Death, nor one of Her emissaries. I am but a woman here to speak with you, if you will allow.”

Her voice rang rich, like a deep mellow wine, smooth with age.

I was startled. First, for knowing what was running in my thoughts and second for having a voice that ran so contrary to her appearance. Though she spoke with a voice of full age, she appeared not much older than I, and I had yet to attain a full score of years. She was dressed in a crimson robe of velvet, girded with what appeared to be small links of iron. Around her shoulders she wore a mighty cloak that was as black as pitch, the hood trimmed with beads of jet. She carried a staff of oak carved with vines and animals. She radiated power and I answered her with respect.

“Lady,” I replied “It is glad tidings to hear that you are not Lady Death. Speak your truth. I will listen. If you have need of me, my sword is yours and I will fight for you.”

I spoke these words that were based upon the Warriors Creed with some difficulty. I still, after all these years, had a hard time with the speech of a knightly warrior. My thoughts to myself were often more direct. I had to be careful not only with what I said, but how I said it.

I confess, however, that I was curious. What could this woman, who to all appearances seemed a lady born and powerful at that, want with me, a warrior who lived only to find honor, a warrior with no real home, family or memories of ever having such?

“You are needed, young warrior and I have been sent to beg your help.”
She whispered, her words flowing around and through my head as though she knew the secrets of the Ages and could impart them to me.

I shook my head, freeing myself from the spell of her words. What treachery was this? Did my Overlord send her here to test me, my faith, my bonds, and my very honor? I gripped the hilt of my sword until my knuckles turned white. In a tight voice I spoke, “Lady, who are you, why are you here, and what do you want of me? Speak quickly, I am losing patience.” There I stopped my flow of words.

Blast my errant tongue for speaking so freely!

She smiled. It was a smile to break the heart of the hardest men, yet I noted that it held an edge of icy calm. This was someone in total control.

“I understand your hesitancy and your honor. But I ask that you hear me through before you make any decisions. You spoke the words of oath that you would here me with an open mind. Do you go back on your oath?”

“Lady, I do not!”

I removed my helm and ran my fingers through my sweat soaked hair.
“Please continue and beg pardon of my rash and foolish tongue. It often runs away all by itself.”

“You are an interesting child.” She remarked.

“Child?” I laughed, throwing back my head, my close-cropped golden hair sticking up at odd angles. Having to cut my hair when I became a warrior was the last time I ever cried, a sign of the end of my youth.

“Lady, you are but a few years older than me, yet you call me child?”

“Am I only a few years older?” she questioned.

Then she began speaking in a voice that was not her own. It rustled like the wind through the trees, lilting, yet strong.

“I am older than you know.”

Shaking herself, she looked at me intently.

“This is getting us nowhere. Are you still willing to listen?”

I nodded my head and prepared to hear whatever request she had of me. Her change from the lady I first met, to the otherworldly creature from some unknown realm then back again had unnerved me. I looked away, embarrassed by the strange feelings that suddenly assailed me. Somehow I knew this woman, though I could swear that I had never seen her before today. In that moment of weakness and confusion, she attacked. I looked up just in time to see her staff descend to hit my head.