Pain drags me back to consciousness.

  A dull ache, throbs in my skull, the pain travelling from my arms into my ribs, then down the length of my leg. I groan at the encompassing soreness, aching throughout my body. I slowly blink open my eyes, the sun searing them from the canopy. Adjusting my sight, I'm met with a sky awash with hues of amber and purple. I lay, confused for a moment.

  Scanning my surroundings, the eerie dark silence of the forest brings me back to reality.

  How long was I out for? Seeing nobody in sight, my nerves kick in. Am I…Alone?

  They must've not found me yet.

  I steadily push myself away from the ground, hoping to hear my name being called by search parties-

  “Tst!” I hiss, glancing down to see a scatter of thorn nicks and scratches. Shit. It looks like I've been dragged through barbed wire. Blood slowly oozes out from some of the deeper gashes, and I hold back whimpering tears. Is this what I get for being a woman, frolicking in the woods? God forbid a woman have fucking hobbies.

  Swallowing back the pain, I urge myself up into a seated position, wincing as my body protests. I look around once more, my confusion doubling.

  “E-Ellie?...Guys?” The forest is denser. The trees seem ancient, old, their bark thick and darker in shade. They wind themselves in a dance with one another, twisting elegantly over one another that it almost looks…Unnatural.

  What the hell…?

  A strange blue hue settles in the air, reflecting soft bioluminescent light off the surrounding greenery. White specs of dancing lights float in the air, moving as I do. They seem to hover around my wounded arms, as if to heal them, to no avail. I take in a breath as I slowly wave the lights around, a trail following my movements. It's beautiful…I become mesmerised by the strangeness of it all. The stings in my body are momentarily forgotten at the distraction.

  I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. I need to find my friends, I can only imagine what they're thinking with me being lost for possibly hours. I put my big girl pants on, and I force myself into a standing position, wobbling as I do so. I need to get back to familiar ground.

  The pond.

  They're bound to be searching for me around there. I brush the dirt and leaves from my skirt and scan the slope I fell from. The steepness of it makes me take a gulp. Nope. Turning around, I scour the thick foliage around me, searching for some kind of opening. Nothing. I know these woods. I know these paths…I think? My heart drops, and anxiety sets in. I don’t know this place…

  I weave myself through tight passes between the trees, ducking under low-hanging branches, and trudge through the undergrowth, an endless endeavour. I’m going round in circles…That tree? Have I seen that tree before?

  No? A forest has lots of trees. My hope dies as I peer down the tree. No. I sigh, thinking to myself. That’s the same one…I mean, how many trees look like they have a phallus?

  Exhaling a long breath, I lean my head against the very male-looking tree. Oh, yes officer, that’s me. How did I get lost? Oh just having a water fight with my adult, employed friends?! Oh, and the weird lights? Do you see them too? Or am I having a concussion-

  My irritated thoughts are quickly replaced by an ominous feeling. In the distance, the rhythmic clanking and heavy footsteps sends a chill up my spine. My instincts make me freeze, my breath caught in a thoughtless static.

  My thoughts tell me it's a search party sent for me. But my heart is torn, beating quickly for me to run.

  The noise is getting closer.

  I suck in a harsh breath, gripping the side of the tree. My thoughts urge me to move, to see if it’s help-

  A sudden, sharp whistle slices through the air.

  Before I can react, a hand clamps over my mouth, and my body is yanked back against a solid chest. I barely have enough time to struggle before something cold and sharp presses against my throat.

  “Keep still,” a voice, low and dangerous, breathes in my ear. “Move an inch, and I’ll cut you down.”

  I go still. Terror keeps me from being responsive. My heart pounds in my chest, a cold sweat forming along my back. The knife at my throat doesn’t falter, the man’s grip tight and unrelenting.

  He pushes me forward, guiding me towards the source of the noise. My brain blanks as I try to come to terms with death. We emerge from the treeline, and I see them.

  I stare wide-eyed at the long line of men perched atop horses, slued into wagons, and marched on foot. The sight is morbid. They have long faces, worn down by the merciless nature of war. It brought to mind the pictures that surfaced from the Afghan war.

  The men, as if they had just paved their way through a merciless war and were showered with the outcome. The view in its entirety was so bizarrely out of place that I couldn’t even attempt to utter a word of my presence or to even question what I was seeing. To me, there was no way for my 20th-century mind to even comprehend the sight before me. The sheer stench of men unbathed due to travails and service was too strong to even compare to any smell I had come across in my life. Their looks of grief stained by combat and bloodshed is too surreal to even counter with a modern explanation.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  There was no way these men had come from a movie set, some real-life roleplay of fantasy characters, or even a possible reenactment. No, these men had truly faced the horrors of war, and their blank stares attested to that fact.

  "It's a woman!" The man still holding me bellows to the troop.

  Keeping my mouth clamped shut, fearing for what my words might cause me, I watch as the men look between themselves as if to decide the proper course of action. A man wearing an outfit similar to a Teutonic knight comes forth, leaping down from his horse, holding the hilt of his sword steady as if ready for an unexpected attack. He grabs my arms and looks at the scratches.

  “Just a woman, she is of no use to us.” The knight speaks from his helmet as he looks at the man holding me, then proceeds to squint in thought. “Yet alone in the sacred forest. Strange…Bring her, the lord will want to question her.”

  “I’m not goin-”

  “You dare defy a knight? I shall behead you where you stand, insolent woman!” The man pulls the knife close to my neck, reeling it back to get a clean kill.

  “Archer. I said bring her.” The knight turns and swings back onto his horse.

  The man pushes me towards a man-filled wagon. Grasping my waist, he hoists me up onto the edge of it, as if I weighed less than a bag of rice to him. I don’t fight back, fearing I’d get myself killed for it this time. He holds his hands out in a request for me to display my wrists, and being in no position to protest, I put my wrists out to him, and he tightly secures them with a coarse rope.

  Sitting on the edge of the wagon, the archer ushers me to move down so that I am sat abreast to the tied up shifty-looking men within. I scooch myself into the wagon, being careful to avoid the untrustworthy man beside me. The wagon is closed up, containing us all inside. Seeing no escape from this situation, I take to looking at the sky.

  What just happened…?

  He was actually going to kill me!

  His knife was real! He was going to kill me!

  This place…It’s not real. It has to be some sick joke! The feeling of the blade to my throat was too real. Too real to deny. This place isn’t normal. My normal.

  No…This can’t be my world.

  I stare blankly at the night clouds, frustrated by my lack of willpower to do anything other than just stand there like a child who's been caught doing something mischievous, being too stunned to defend themselves. Irritated, I grab my head with tethered hands, needing to gather my thoughts and think about the absurdity of it all.

  Defy a knight? No. Defy a man.

  I knew what he meant in his entirety. A woman has no voice, no authority, and no control. And if my history has any semblance to this place, then…I have no power here.

  Not only being powerless due to my dick-less gender, but also as an outsider.

  And if my lessons on strong women has taught me anything, it’s that women who fight against the rules don’t always live long enough to tell the tale.

  If I want to survive here, I’ll have to quiet my protests.

  “Arak ka laverki na!” The man next to me laughs, causing the other men on the wagon to glance over at me and stifle a chuckle.

  A large man in the corner of the wagon opposite me tilts his head towards the shifty-looking man beside me, adding his own comments, “Peveraki ka naveriki na.” He sneers, looking at me. I follow his line of sight to discover he was looking at my exposed calves. I pull my skirt down over them, and all of them laugh. A soldier on a horse riding next to us smacks the head of the crooked man next to me.

  “Shut up, you Eivan criminal. Or you’ll be walking the length to Arrton.” The assault causes the creep to sneer, turning his head to spit out of the wagon in disrespect to the soldier.

  I hope this isn’t hell.

  cxxx{}::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

  The droning silence among all the men in the troop persists as they gaze upon the imposing scenery as we travel to our unknown destination. Unexpectedly, the silence was broken by the arrival of a chainmail-clad soldier on an auburn horse, causing the wagon train to halt. He rides up to the knight at the front of our travelling troop to deliver his message.

  “Sir, we have set up camp a ways ahead on the great plains before Arrton. The marker for the camp is etched onto a large slanted stone.”

  Arrton? Why does that sound so familiar?

  The well-dressed knight nods in acknowledgement, giving leave for the man to rejoin the troop.

  “Eiman, relay the message.” The knight bellows down the company of men.

  “Yes, Sir!” A soldier yells in compliance to the knight, and turns his horse away from the group and rides into the direction we came from.

  There’s more of them? I query myself, staring behind to see if I can catch a glimpse of other troops, but upon seeing nothing in the distance, I turn to the sky and rest my eyes once more, praying this long jolty journey will come to a swift end.

  Upon opening my eyes again, I was hoping to be greeted by the sight of at least a humble camping setup of a few tents and at least a fire, yet I was met with the incredulous image of…Nothing? A boundless landscape of sweeping long grass and blissful silence within the starlit night was all, my confusion building.

  We shuffle past the aforementioned slanted stone. As we pass it, the men in the wagon jolt, seeming as though they all received an electric shock. That was weird… My thoughts halt as I rub my eyes and do a double take, as the scene suddenly changes from emptiness to a bustling campsite where at least a thousand soldiers roam.

  I think I'm losing my mind...Did I blink? How could I miss this massive campsite?!

  I close my unhinged jaw when I see the nonchalant acceptance of the situation in the men, as if the sudden change was utterly normal. I scan the large camp, noticing makeshift horse stables, blacksmiths, leather workers, and rows of bell tents. Three large tents stick out, their colour is bold and their size dwarfs the others, obviously signifying importance within this place. If I am to have any hope or chance to negotiate my freedom or at least get some answers to this dystopian nightmare, it has to be in those tents…

  “Sir Leiman, I will tell the lord of your arrival.” A young lad says to the knight in charge of our troop. The knight responds by taking off his helmet and handing it to the lad, scruffing his hair in appreciation. With his helmet off, I could finally see the profile of the knight in charge of the troop. He had blonde hair shaped into a French chop, a trimmed short beard, and sharp features.

  “No need, the reconnaissance mission was successful. I will present to the lord myself and update him with the intelligence gathered.” He turns to look at the wagon with a scrutinising glare.

  “Archer, collect them.” The archer walks over to us, unlatches the wagon, and ushers for me to come. Scooting to the end, he helps me off the cart by grabbing my waist and hoisting me to the floor, a move similar to when he stuck me on the damn thing. This man is way too handsy. I think to myself, but in a state of fear, I dare not complain. I stand to the side and watch as the men on the wagon stand and jump off, following the orders given to them by the archer and other soldiers. Once we are all milling around, the soldier ties us all together on a single long rope, berating and beating the men who do not comply quickly enough. Now I'm glad I didn’t complain…