Painted Blue

Another morning broke cold and icy. There was ice in the top of the buckets of water and everyone shivered in the cold. I had started wearing the long, thick dresses my mother had had made for me. They were simple, elegant, but very comfortable. What the men had not known, was that my mother had commissioned those dresses to hide several knives and a Roman style short sword.

When I was young, I had desperately wanted to learn to fight with a sword. I mentioned to my father that I wished I had been born a boy. His face fell.

"Why, my little wildcat, would you want to be a boy?" he asked.

"I want to fight and use weapons like my brothers," I sobbed into his summer tunic.

"Is that all, my little wildcat?" I nodded sniffling.

He had frowned, then his face lit up. He had put me down and left the room, returning shortly with a small dagger and a wooden sword, much beaten and used. I started lessons with my father that very day.

At first my mother was scandalized, but she quickly got used to the idea. Especially, many years down the road, when someone's bull had gone crazy and started attacking our slaves. I was able to defend the slaves and keep the bull away from our home long enough for my father and brothers to capture it. After that, she started hiding pockets and places for my weapons within the folds of my dresses.

The day I left, Mother handed me a beautiful wooden box and told me to open it on my first night alone.

Inside the beautiful box was a sword and long knife. But, it wasn't just any sword or knife. they were beautifully created and perfectly balanced. It was not made for the regular Roman chopping and hacking of a common soldier. No, these were made for skill, speed, and precision.

On top of the weapons, was a note.

"To our dear Wildcat,

Though tradition dictates a woman receives a few slaves and many new things for her new household for her betrothal, your mother and I decided to have something special and out of the ordinary made for our unconventional daughter.

Your brothers also agreed and added many suggestions toward the creation of these weapons.

Your mother had cleverly added pockets and sheathes in your new clothing to make these easy to access. I hope you keep these on you through your trip and always think of us as you start your own home and raise your own wildcats.

Love, Your Father and Mother"

For the first time, I felt homesick and cried myself to sleep that night.

Tonight, however, my hands twitched to pull them out and spar with them. I snuck to the clearing where a few of the men were sparing with the mind to jump into the fray and practice with them. When I got to the clearing, I stayed in the shadows of the trees and watched, gauging my time to enter.

It took them a moment to realize there were others watching from the woods as well. They were painted dark so they melted into the shadows. Truthfully, all I could see were the whites of their eyes and small glints of firelight bouncing off their weapons and other objects.

I was about to warn the men when someone grabbed me from behind and shoved me into the clearing. The men froze as a sharp weapon pressed against my throat. I stood defiantly with my back straight, refusing to be afraid. It was then that the others hiding in the woods let out a great cry and attacked.

I was ready this time. I made to run away, trying to hide my dagger in the swirl of my skirts. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. I used my momentum to burry my knife in his gut and wrench it up into his heart. I watched the light leave his eye as he slid from my knife.

The fighting was over quickly and the rest of the dark-painted warriors disappeared into the darkness.

"My lady," exclaimed the captain as the men surrounded me. The medic checked the small nick on my neck until I brushed him off with an irritated huff. Another man examined the body at my feet and looked at me with growing respect. I felt myself begin to shake and I started to sink to the ground as the adrenaline wore off. The captain swung me into his arms and carried me, still clutching my knife, bac to the fireside. I had recovered enough by the time we got to the fire to demand to walk.

"You have had a shock. You need food and rest. A lady should not have to see such violence." I pushed myself from his grasp and had my knife under his chin before I realized there was laughter in his eyes. I grinned sheepishly at him.

He smiled crookedly and handed me a rag to wipe off my knife and turned to the men to assess the situation.

The soldier that had stayed at camp to cook had not been targeted, so had not heard the commotion. He handed me a bowl with roasted rabbit, a leg of a tasty bird, and some roasted vegetables from our stock.

"Did you really kill someone?" he asked a little timidly. All I could do was nod as I shoved a wild carrot into my mouth, savoring the flavor.

Another soldier clapped me on the shoulder. "Killed a man and has the stomach to eat afterwards. You are stronger than many men I know. You can fight at my side any day. Though," he frowned, "I do not know how you fight in long, thick skirts and a fur lined cape," he grinned.

I grinned back, "maybe you should bring me sparring next time and I will show you." He gave me a playful bow and walked away.