7Summary: A war between two colonies arises a love between two enemies. Adjusting to her new life, Princess Alianna experiences a love deeper than she could ever imagine. And a lust she can not hide. However her father is searching for her and her husband-to-be wants her dead.
Chapter one: The battle.
Alianna reached the battleground, sword in hand, mask on face. She sighed, her stomach host to millions of butterflies. This was a true battle, a real blood thirsty war between two different clans. Her iron amour hid her voluptuous breasts, if a man saw her, he'd strike. Unaware that he would be fighting against a princess.
She was princess Alianna of the Red River clan, daughter of the most dangerous and powerful man in the country, and she, of course, had a forbidden passion for fighting. Starting sparring at the young age of 7, she had a lot of practice stored inside, but there was no way she'd be allowed to battle. Actually, it was her father who granted her the permission to fight; he had always wanted a warrior son however a warrior daughter was exceptional. He created her a mask, hiding her face so no one would ever recognize her in war-clothes.
Although Alianna had a passion for fighting; she couldn't help but gasp at the scene around her. The suns radiant glimmer seemed merely to highlight the bloodbath that lay before her. Quite frankly, nothing could have prepared her for the grotesque view. Blood, sweat and decaying flesh traveled up her nostrils, bodies crumbled swiftly to the ground with every blink of her eyes.
"Come on, lad." Alianna never saw the Lieutenant approaching her. His rough grasp on her shoulder snapped her out of daydreaming. He had no idea she was the princess, and if he did, trouble larger than the battle would brew.
She could not speak to him, there was no way Alianna could master a rough masculine accent with her head swimming with regrets. Was she being daft? Surely she could perish quite quickly, without the protection of her servants.
"Is this your first battle?" The Lieutenant asked. Alianna could not look at him, although one look in his dark brown eyes would aware her of the sympathy he felt. The man was tough, having the lives of numerous soldiers imprinted on his sword, but he understood the terror of witnessing a war.
Nodding slightly, the Princess tore her eyes away from the scene that lay before her. She breathed through her mouth, understanding that the small slips of her mask hid her femininity, however did not conceal her nerves.
"Then it won't be your last." With those blunt words, the Lieutenant thrust his sword in the air and roared. Alianna had heard the battle scream before and it was quite comforting. She saw the Lieutenant plunge his sword into the heart of an oblivious enemy. With a thud, the man fell to his death.
She drew her sword, scanning the battleground for a lone enemy that she could attack. It was difficult to tell the difference between her clan and the enemy. The only obvious different was the colour of the mask; hers a dark grey, which, when the light hid behind the clouds, resembled a deepest black. The enemy's was more cunning, it looked white, however when examined closely it was like a camouflage. The mask was made out of different colours; silver, light blue, cream and various shades of yellow. The overall effect looked dazzling. The female warrior knew, though, that it was a clever method of deception. And to her, the mask must appear white.
She narrowed her eyes at a duel. The Red River warrior seemed to be loosing the battle; he was pressed against a steaming rock. With a slick movement, the enemy drove his sword through the man's throat. The amount of blood that flowed out of his body was immense, Alianna tried not to vomit. She had found her first victim, charging towards him before he could gather his wits.
Unfortunately Alianna never had been good at stealth, she roared, slashing her sword at his back. He had time to anticipate the move, a soft clink of blade on blade seemed deafening, regardless of the piercing screams around her.
"Quick, but not quick enough." He muttered under the white mask, humor dripping from his voice. To her, this man was not human. He was the enemy, a rotten person who needed to die for the honor of her country. The beautiful shape of his hazel eyes were just another weapon of camouflage; Alianna didn't think about the possibilities of him having a wife, or numerous children, praying for his survival.
Alianna didn't respond to his comment. Her father had taught her in their private practices to speak as little as possible to the enemy, for all the energy you can gather could mean living or dying. She realized too late that he had taken advantage of her thoughts, swinging his sword at her defenseless body. In a split second of human instinct, Alianna protected herself, maneuvering her body sideward. The wound wasn't deep, it only pierced the skin on her left arm slightly. Although it stung, she focused her pain into energy, feeding off the hurt she felt.
As their swords anticipated the others move, Alianna realized they were in some kind of stalemate. Her energy was draining quite quickly, and, with a slight grin she realized, so was his. One eye swarmed down her opponents left leg, he was limping. Bending her body, she pierced her shining sword into his leg. Her sword had penetrated his bone, it shattered. The man fell to the ground.
Alianna quickly pulled her sword out of the bone, a task which required more energy than she expected. Her radiant sword pressed against his throat, the blood on her sword dripping down his neck.
The man gulped, quivering in fear. "Please don't kill me, I beg for mercy." He cried, fishing around for his fallen sword.
Alianna suppressed a frown, "a man shall defend his country, even if it means dying for it." She said, Taking her blade and slitting his throat from one ear to the other. The sound of his gargles echoed through her mind.
"Oh father," she whispered, "have I made a mistake?"
A man watched from the background, he wasn't a swordsman; he jousted for fun and battled for money. He was no rich man, co-owning a pathetic brewery with his uncle.
His name was Louis.
Louis watched the battle, his first battle, what should he do? He'd never learnt how to approach the enemy and what was expected in a war battle. Louis and his uncle were forced to sign up for the battle. They were members of the clan's Garrison; however they never expected that every man training under the Garrison temple would be automatically enrolled in such a deathly war. He feared for his uncle, an elderly man who was a little on the lazy side.
Louis watched one of his own go down in the battle, he cursed bitterly, war would only destroy the people, not solve problems. "Oh well," he thought, approaching the killer warrior of the man who just fell down.
He gave the other warrior plenty of warning. Once facing the warrior- his hand on sword- he took time to look at the warrior's black mask. Shockingly, he couldn't find any determination or revenge in the warrior's eyes. He cursed; he had hoped that the warrior would at least look murderous.
The warrior, taking advantage of his hesitation, thrust the sword at his chest, Louis clumsily blocked it, sweat starting to appear on his forehead. Louis, muttering his favorite curse, which he seemed to be doing frequently, wondered what would happen to a warrior's fallen body.
The warrior he fought was quite strong, the eyes behind the black mask filled with a strong determination. With a gasp, the bloody battleground around him started to shrink, he realized, the enemy was forcing him into a corner! His enemy was great; nothing like those he fought for money and entertainment. The change of landscape was quite pleasant, the sweltering sand beneath his feet was not stained with crimson life support. Slowly, the sounds of cries and swords disappeared. The field between himself and a comrade was immense. Was this some kind of plan? Or was the warrior, like him, feeling queasy at the stench?
Louis could see the enemy become sluggish. He had wasted all his energy in forcing him away from the battle. Louis almost chuckled, all he had to do was ask, and he would have happily had a fleeting truce to escape the massacre.
It almost was in slow motion, the warrior in the black mask tripped on a hidden rock, with a high pitch scream, he crumbled to the ground, banging his head against another rock. Louis winced, it must have hurt! As the enemy turned onto his back, he saw the menacing black mask slide onto the desert ground. Louis gasped.
Quite strangely, the deathly warrior was a she.
Alianna looked up, cursing. Although she could not see the mask besides her, the warm breeze on her sweaty face told her everything. She was identified. Masks were always worn in the Northern lands. It lowered the emotional anguish a fighter had after a battle. But now, she was exposed. And even worst, her brown hair had slipped loose, and no man could deny the soft feminine glow of her face.
"You- you're a... lady." Exclaimed the enemy, eyes wide opened, he seemed stupid, she thanked the Gods for this, if he had half a brain he'd kill her right there and then.
Alianna stood up, her long brown hair prickling against the bruises on her neck. Though her face had so far been unharmed, dirt had landed on her milky complexion.
Noticing his gaping expression, Alianna clutched her sword in both hands, swaying them in front of her face. "Are you just going to stand there?" She growled, "Or are we going to finish this?"
Louis gulped, he started swinging his sword furiously, his moves were much clumsier now, and perhaps her womanliness was very distracting. Alianna thanked this, maybe his new discovery could be used to her advantage. Every move he made she could easily anticipate. He started fighting in a sort of rhythm, the clanking of their swords forming into an ironic beat.
Alianna let out a shrieking cry, her daftness had cost her. How stupid she was to assume that he wouldn't harm her, he was a warrior, after all! Female or not she was a threat to him. He had slashed her arm, a much deeper cut than she had previously experienced. She didn't let her short lapse of stupidity stop her from defeating the man, however, it enraged her more. She gained her energy, making lethal attacks with her sword. Only luck kept him from dying. She observed his behavior, "he must be a rookie," she thought, "This could be an easier defeat than I anticipated."
The man was now backed against a mound of rock, he gulped, still defending himself by swinging the sword. His amour almost slashed off, his arms cut, blood and dirt infecting the wounds. He was tired, his breathing heavy.
With the hand that wasn't holding his sword, he took off his mask, showing his ear-length, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was, in a unique way, attractive. Most of her men had beards, but this man had short, unshaved facial hair. He was very different than the men she was use to. Alianna was a smart girl, only on retrospect did she admit his handsomeness. As she battle, only one word rested in her head. "Defeat".
Alianna disarmed him, "you put up quite a fight, unfortunately there will be room for no improvement, I wish not to let you live and give you a chance to destroy our colony. Please forgive me." She said, pointed her sword against his neck, "any last words?"
The brown haired man swallowed, looking up at the sky for, what it seemed like, the last time. He opened his mouth, voice trembling, "you put up a great fight, I will not wish to live. May the people of my land fight for what they want, and trust me, you will not be able to stop it."
"Goodbye." Alianna whispered, Her sword was clutched between her two hands. She pressed softly against his chest then lifted it above her head. She was ready, ready to kill him. Then why was she procrastinating? Before she could kill the man, she heard a voice quickly ascending behind her.
"Louis! No!" A podgy man ran behind Alianna, tears dripping down his face, he swung his sword at her, slicing her cheek.
Alianna flinched in pain, she turned around, although it was too late, there were two of them. She cursed her hesitance.
"Don't worry Lou, she will die on my sword." The newcomer was obviously oblivious to the common rules of battle. Which was, in theory, fairness and an equal battle between two people, he had broke that law. Alianna saw it as an unfair death, although her cheek burned, her heart ached more. "Father, I failed you." She thought to herself, closing her eyes in a split second, awaiting the blow .
"Uncle no!" Called out the man called Lou, he sounded like an angel to Alianna. Before the large man could strike her, she was pushed to the floor, feeling very dizzy. It was so hard to move…
"Louis?" The Uncle looked at Lou, puzzled.
Alianna drowned out her surroundings. She felt at peace, the whole battle tumbling out of her thoughts. Only when she completely relaxed her tense, aching body, did blackness, darker than her mask, engulf her.
AN: This is an edited version of a story I put up years ago… I wanted to get back in the game, so months ago I edited the chapters I had done and wrote a few more chapters. Hopefully I will be swift at updating and it will ensure me to be an efficient author on fictionpress.
Thanks for reading this chapter, it is much appreciated!
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