Holy Terror: Barbarian Princess Book 1

Cassandra is on her own now after fighting alongside Skharr DeathEater. Missing some of the benefits of that arrangement she is now left without supplies or a Horse. Can she begin a new life on her own?

1 – “I blame you for this.”

Strider tossed his mane but showed no other response to her words.

“There must surely have been dozens of work opportunities to be found farther south,” Cassandra muttered and settled a little deeper into the saddle as she studied their surroundings again. 

She wasn’t sure why she did that, except perhaps as a matter of instinct and habit. Hundreds of checks over the last few days had revealed nothing but trees and the odd squirrel. Aside from the road, of course, that had been so long neglected that it did not appear to have been repaired even once. After only a few more years, calling it a road would be an insult to all other proper roads.

“But no,” she continued, even though she was sure Strider had no intention to speak to her. “I let Skharr go to Verenvan while I found myself a different calling. It seems my choice has me wandering the reaches of the north of the empire, looking for business that in no way befits a barbarian princess.”

The damn horse still had nothing to say and she had begun to feel she was going mad from the lack of anything in the region. It had been ravaged by war and she had anticipated from the reports that it would be crawling with deserters and those criminals who generally plagued populated areas that had recently seen the effects of a sustained campaign.

By the time she reached one of the closest villages in the area, she realized that she was almost a year too late to help the folk in the region. Whether it was by soldiers—imperial or otherwise—or bandits of any kind, the village had been burned to the ground. All that remained was cold ashes and the signs of the living folk had made in the area.

The scene had repeated itself a few more times until she realized that she needed to travel farther north and away from the effects of the war. Or at least far enough away that it hadn’t completely destroyed any chance at life.

“Fine, you don’t need to say anything,” Cassandra said and patted Strider on the neck. “I am happy for the company regardless of how engaging it might happen to be. I do wish we could have the rapport the other barbarian had with his horse but he never did say how he communicated with horses, only that he did. And I am still not sure whether he was lying or not.”

Her instincts preferred to believe he hadn’t lied. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had been a barbarian for longer than she had. There were numerous reasons why a real barbarian would feel a little more in tune with animals than paladins.

She had thought about asking Skharr but in the end, it was likely that he would have simply fed her a handful of thoughts on the matter and left it to her to decide, given that he probably wasn’t entirely sure himself.

It wasn’t like Skharr to lie. Not as far as she knew him, anyway, and it made little difference. The only reason she considered it was because her mind was dulled and drained to the point of agony thanks to the unyielding boredom that prevailed over the landscape.

The only good thing to be attributed to the area was that the weather and temperatures were somewhat agreeable. The season was on the edge between summer and fall, which allowed her to camp comfortably without needing to build a shelter, and it hadn’t rained for most of the journey aside from a little drizzle here and there. When it did, she surmised there would be real difficulty as the road she now traveled on would turn into a river of mud that would stick incessantly to her boots and Strider’s hooves.

Cassandra knew her luck wouldn’t last. Hell, she wasn’t sure if she could call what was happening around them luck. Thankfully, water sources were plentiful in the area. They looked like they had once been drained dry by the armies that had marched through but had since recovered. 

In fact, through the lack of any human presence, the whole region had begun to revert to wilderness. It would make the Northeastern Pass almost unreachable if something wasn’t done. Perhaps the Emperor could turn his attention to the necessary repairs to the roads across his empire.

They approached another bridge across a small river and she slid off the saddle.

“I suppose you’ll understand if I tell you to stay still and not run off anywhere?” she asked and patted Strider’s neck again. “If you were to run and take all my supplies with you, that would truly be the end of the world. For me, at least.”

Not that she had many supplies for the beast to run off with. She’d managed to stave off using them by gathering roots and berries and added the odd creature she managed to trap or fish for. She was the veteran of many a campaign and had collected skills that allowed her to survive in the wilderness without needing to rely on rations.

The bridge—possibly erected by a passing army—looked relatively intact and it appeared to be strong enough to take the weight of Strider and herself, but there was no point in putting that assumption to the test without making sure of it.

She advanced on the planks and watched the river below carefully. It didn’t move too quickly, nor did it appear too deep to ford, but this close to the mountains, she could assume the water was ice-cold.

It looked clear enough for her to see the rocks below. This was certainly a good place for her to refill her water skins and maybe try a little fishing before she moved on.

Once she was on the other side.

“All right, I think it’ll hold our weight,” she muttered once she’d tested the strength of the beams a few times by jumping on them before she returned to where Strider waited for her and browsed a few scant patches of grass. “And if it doesn’t, we’ll have ourselves a nice refreshing bath. From the smell of you, I would say you need it.”

Cassandra might have been losing her mind but it almost felt like the beast had rolled his eyes at her.

The thought made her smile even if it was a little far-fetched. She took him by the reins and began to lead him across the bridge. The timber below them groaned a few times when the horse put his weight on the structure but gave no sign that it would splinter and collapse as they continued.

“I’ve wondered if it might be time to call on Theros for a little help,” she muttered to distract her mind from the noises the wood was making. “Probably not. He isn’t the kind of god to appear when I need something to do and if he were, he would give me the kind of work that we would most certainly regret. This isn’t what I planned but by Janus’ puckered hairy ass, I’ll take anything at this point. Even a glorious death.”

Strider snorted although she wasn’t sure if it was simply a noise he made or if he had laughed derisively at her comment. 

She chose to believe it was the latter as they reached the other side of the bridge.

Before she could unhook the saddlebags and start setting up a small camp, she was interrupted by the sounds of fighting from over the next hill. She hadn’t heard it over the rushing water but once she had moved past the river, she immediately recognized the noise made by those locked in some kind of conflict. Not much else in the world would produce the sounds of clashing steel and wood, along with cries from what she could only assume were humans at this point.

Not many elves or dwarves were left in the region, but she always ran into one or the other during her travels so she didn’t discount them.

“I didn’t pray but maybe the old bastard heard me anyway.” Cassandra chuckled as she mounted quickly. Strider could feel her excitement and perhaps the gelding shared it at the prospect of something—anything—to break the boredom that had plagued them for too long. 

Either way, he was more than willing to surge into a gallop at the slightest encouragement and raced over the hill to where the sounds were coming from.

This wasn’t what she had thought the problem in the region would be. Ideas of scouts and armies had stuck in her mind but all she saw was a group of folk on foot under attack by brigands. None of the beleaguered travelers were warriors save one, a massive man with a thick, bushy black beard. His only weapon appeared to be a quarterstaff but he used it effectively to prevent the half-dozen or so mounted raiders from attacking the rest of their group.

He wouldn’t last long, however. She could already see his arms dripping red from the many wounds they had inflicted on him. The raiders didn’t appear to take the challenge very seriously and laughed when he pushed them back. One swiped a cut across his shoulder that made him stumble.

“Son of a whore,” Cassandra whispered and shook off the miles of travel that had brought her to this road, She heeled Strider into motion and drew her sword from its scabbard on her saddle. They would hear the sound of it as well as the galloping horse. Even though it sacrificed any surprise she might take advantage of, it was worthwhile as long as it kept the raiders from hurting anyone else.

They turned their horses when they heard a new arrival but did not appear to be overly concerned. It was only one rider and not one who was heavily armed or armored for that matter, and they simply chuckled and trotted their horses forward.

Cassandra made a point to not meet them with overconfidence. Skharr could walk around like nothing in the world could hurt him, but the moment her focus waned was the moment when something stabbed her in the back.

She shifted in the saddle and a lance sailed past her chest, and her blade flicked outward. The speed and power from her and Strider allowed the sword to cut cleanly through the attacker’s neck and his head thumped on the road. His horse advanced a few more steps and neighed nervously when its headless rider dropped lifelessly from the saddle.

Another lance was thrust toward her chest and Cassandra moved again, this time to parry it and push it upward. She twisted her wrist and the raider fell back with a scream, his hand suddenly no longer connected to his arm. Without so much as a second thought, the former paladin leaned in and sliced the blade of her sword across the raider’s unprotected neck. A warm spray of blood caught her on her arms and shoulders and the man dropped from his saddle, clutching a wound that was too deep to stem the bleeding.

The other brigands immediately realized that they had made a mistake. A rough-sounding order was issued and they reined their mounts in, unsure of what to make of the woman who had appeared from nowhere and killed two of their men.

Taking advantage of their hesitation was necessary, but probably not in the way they anticipated. Cassandra brought Strider around, clicked her tongue, and let him trot to where the folk were watching, unsure of what to make of her as well.

She slid her sword into its scabbard and slipped smoothly from the saddle. The beast came to a halt on his own as she approached the man who now leaned on his quarterstaff.

“You’re rather handy with that, aren’t you?” she asked, her steps slow and cautious.

“Not as handy as you are with that sword,” he answered in a deep, rumbling voice. “Who sent you?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was merely traveling the road?”

“No one travels this road,” the man answered.

Cassandra looked to where the raiders had gathered closer together and tried to decide what to do. If they attacked as one, there would be no way for her to counter them.

“Have a care,” she said and placed her hands on his shoulder over the wound. “This might sting a little.”

“What might—ah!”

The man growled as the magic slipped from her fingers and into his body and immediately began to heal the wounds he had suffered. He knew how to keep the horsemen at bay, which was something she would need in this fight.

“Are…are you a mage?” he asked and attempted to look at where his shoulders were healing.

“Of a kind. I used to be a paladin.”

“To what god?”

She opened her mouth to reply but moved back quickly and drew her sword. “Now might not be the time for introductions.”

He turned and scowled at the raiders, who had decided not to wait any longer and now began to push their horses forward again. Cassandra wished she’d thought to take one of the lances or had mounted Strider again.

Her eyes narrowed, she watched the brigands as they advanced on the travelers but instead of rushing to where Cassandra and the warrior stood, they rode to where the others were unguarded. It appeared they were no longer in the mood to fight and instead, approached the defenseless travelers, who quickly backed away with terrified screams.

“No,” she whispered and raced forward. “No, no, no!”

They ignored her, grasped Strider’s reins, and pulled him with them. The beast did not put up much of a fight and merely snorted and tossed his mane before he acquiesced and joined them as they rode away.

“Those shit-stains!” Cassandra shouted, hurled her sword ahead, and grimaced as it spun and sank into the ground well short of where she had aimed it. If there was ever a time to have a massive barbarian with a damned bow that could pick the shits off from a distance, it was now.

She could only glower at their backs as they rode away with all her food, supplies, and her portion of the dragon’s treasure. The worst part was that they didn’t yet know how lucky they were to find such extraordinary spoils.

“They are gone,” the warrior said and joined her as she trudged frustratedly to retrieve her sword, almost the only possession she still had in the world. She had the armor of a barbarian princess under her leathers, of course, plus her clothes and the weapons she had strapped onto her person.

All else was gone.

There was a time when material possessions didn’t mean much to her. Now, however, she was traveling and stuck in the middle of nowhere and had no idea whether she would be able to survive with a sword and her wits.

“Well, we have our lives,” the warrior said with a firm nod. “For a moment before you arrived, we feared we would not have those.”

Unfortunately, the raiders had taken the horses of their dead comrades as well, although they had left the bodies. She moved to where they lay and searched them quickly. There was little in the way of coin or food but their weapons were of good quality at least. They were probably deserters or perhaps they’d managed to steal weapons and armor from soldiers.

The warrior followed her and helped to hold the bodies. “You still haven’t told us your name.”

Cassandra looked up and realized that the other travelers had moved closer as well. They appeared a little unsure of her and whispered amongst themselves as they shook their heads.

“You’ve not told me yours,” she answered and took a dagger from a brigand’s belt as well as his lance, along with a small purse that had a few coppers in it.

“I am Caephas. These folk have been without a home and I offered to show them means and opportunity in these lands that have been mostly abandoned.”

“A soldier?”

“Aye. A lifetime ago, I fought under the emperor’s banner. I fulfilled my oath but abandoned all I had to help those in need as penance for my misdeeds.”

She glanced at the man and his silver eyes locked onto her for a moment. “Not many soldiers feel guilt over what they do for lord and land.”

“Not many soldiers did what I did.”

“Fair enough.” She offered him her hand and he took it at the wrist in a warrior’s grip. “I am Cassandra.”

“Cassandra. The Paladin of Theros?”

“No longer.” She hefted one of the lances. “I strongly recommend you teach the folk to use these. You’d be surprised how effective a spear is against mounted warriors, even with little training.”

Caephas took the weapon she offered. “And yet you are here, protecting the people who worship him.”

“By chance, I assure you,” she insisted but she could tell that her assurances fell on deaf ears. The men, women, and children were already whispering about how a servant of Theros had been sent to assist them.

They were half-right, at least. Technically, she was a barbarian to the god but she doubted that these people would understand the significance of that.

“You’ll have to allow us to thank you for your help at least,” Caephas stated once she had finished searching the bodies. “We don’t have much but what supplies we can spare are yours. And a warm meal besides, I think.”

As much as Cassandra wanted to pursue the assholes who took Strider, she knew running after them wouldn’t bring anything worthwhile and she would likely simply find herself tired and dying of hunger and thirst after a few days.

“I won’t decline a warm meal,” she answered with a smile. “Although it should be said that I didn’t ask for Theros’ help, whatever the reason. And who the fuck helps by having a horse laden with treasure stolen?”

The people began to head to the river to set up camp for the night. 

“He might have a plan that rewards you with more than you lost,” Caephas suggested with a shrug.

“I won’t wager my life on that,” Cassandra answered and looked around suddenly. Either the madness had touched her again or maybe soft laughter drifted on the wind for some other reason.

The voice was difficult to ignore, however, and she was sure it said, “You’re welcome.”

“Maybe Janus isn’t the only ass in the family,” she muttered and resisted the urge to shudder as she moved to join the rest of her newfound companions.

No! Not Strider! Take the things but leave the horse. Cassandra can obviously handle herself in battle but is left at a serious disadvantage. What adventure is about to unfold? She has to go after the brigands right?! Find out when Holy Terror: Barbarian Princess Book 1 is released October 21, 2021. In the meantime go and pre-order it today.