The battle had started.
Catalina, shocked to her core, stayed near the back. In front, the warriors of the group strode into the fight. There was silence, as if the clacking of armor, metal, footsteps, and snarling of the bandits didn't exist. A ringing sounded in the back of Catalina's ears, and the glints of swords and weapons alike shone in the sunlight.
Then, it began.
Someone, Catalina didn't know who, let out a war cry and charged. There was chaos. Warriors, bandits- they all became a blur. She could only focus in and out of the battle, enough to see the blood splattering and pooling all around them. Bones snapped, muscles tore to the wrath of a blade, and guts spilled out onto the ground. The cries of agony and fury mixed together. Adrenaline made the air fuzzy and hard to breathe. In fact, adrenaline was doing nothing to help Catalina now besides making the pounding in her ears that much stronger. The stench of the blood and war that more prominent.
It was unnaturally hot, and it stunk horribly. The battle raged on and Catalina could only stand, watching as they did their work. She tried finding her own fighters, trying to find ways that she could help, but everything blended together. Her dagger was tight and hot in her grip. Her feet began to move backwards, although she didn't really need to. Everyone was fighting farther ahead, over seven feet away from her. The adrenaline, of course, made her focus on the battle more, so she didn't notice her attacker until his blade was already on her.
The flash came from the corner of her eyes. Catalina let out a mix of a cry and a gasp and jumped backwards, the man's sword catching her lower abdomen as she turned. Thankfully, the cut wasn't deep enough to hit any vitals, Catalina noticed quickly. The medicine woman in her was way too prominent.
Catalina got a good look at him, the dagger in her hand suddenly feeling tiny and weak. The man was a monster, towering over her five foot eight inches. She took another step backwards, chest heaving as she looked at the long sword rested with ease and experience in his hand. His ugly, scarred, and tattooed face contorted into an ugly grin as the right corner of his mouth lifted, gnarly teeth exposed. The slash in her stomach throbbed, making the dagger in her hand tremble.
"Aha!" His voice wasn't even nice as he stepped towards her, slowly cornering her and advancing like a predator with his prey. A yellow, wormy, obviously bacteria filled tongue flicked across his lips as he eyed her up and down. Catalina felt a shot of panic hit her as her back touched the wall behind her. Her dagger was pointed at him, but he obviously didn't take it as a threat, seeing that his sword rested in his hand instead of pointing it at her. "A sexy woman, not for battle." He got closer, and Catalina lunged forward with her blade, trying for his throat, but his sword easily came up and blocked her strike. The butt of his long blade knocked the dagger out of her hands and there was a loud crack. Catalina's broken hand shot up into a hot fire of pain and she cried out, clutching it to her chest. Her eyes were those of a trapped wild animal, and fear was clearly evident in them. The bandit advanced so she could feel his hot and gag worthy breath on her cheeks. Catalina was hardly a fighter, and this man who was probably twice her age had the skill of fighting in all of the battles in her lifetime.
"You fool-born idiot. Cornered by Ulric and thinking you'll get away? Lumpish wench!" The bandit- Ulric- raised his hand as if to strike her, and it was only Catalina's instinct to flinch and turn her head in anticipation. The strike didn't come. An ugly chuckle came from the man's throat until he was full out laughing. The sounds of battle sounded distant, and Catalina realized she was in a completely different place from the battle. There was nobody to save her.
She was brought back from her realization in an instant as the bandit's humongous hand grabbed her wrists in a flash, pinning them above her head against the wall. When her injured hand hit the wall she let out a groan- a cry of pain which she muffled with her closed mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes. He got close to her fear-filled face, his laughter turning into an amused growl. "Ah, you'd be a perfect, plume picked puterelle." The words would have sounded beautiful if it wasn't for their horrid meaning and the man speaking them. Catalina struggled, thrashing around in his grip. This only seemed to amuse him further. His free hand sheathed his sword and found its way around her slender throat. The calloused thing could fit all the way around her neck, only showing how monstrous in height Ulric the bandit was. The hand trailed down to the collar of her dress and tugged. Catalina's eyes widened further and she let out a defiant scream, struggling further. This time, she was frantic. Ulric was only annoyed by this, and he pressed his index and middle finger restraining her on Catalina's injured hand, causing it to burst into another shot of pain. This time, she sobbed.
"Shut it!" he barked, and his hand at her collar ripped her traveling cloak away, unbuttoning the first button on her dress in the process. Catalina shook, hand and stomach cut both screaming in pain. Surprising her, Ulric stopped there, eyes greedily looking at the olive skin beneath her collarbones and the breasts disappearing into her dress. Ulric brought his face forward and his slimy tongue licked a slow trail from Catalina's collarbone to her neck. She let out a long stream of curse words in Spanish, thrashing underneath his grip even more, plus some. Then, Ulric took his smirking face away and licked her nose, infuriating Catalina's panic-stricken self more. He bent with his hand still trapping her and grabbed the dagger that had fallen.
The next few minutes were agonizing, filled with Catalina screaming and cursing. Her skin underneath her collarbone was wet and sticky with blood. The red substance had trickled down her chest, into her cleavage and soaking the top rim of her dress. She trembled when he finished, the blade which he used to write on her skin dripping with her blood. Tears stained her cheeks.
"The battle ends. I cannot retrieve you now, but you are marked as mine." Ulric grinned. "And I will get what is mine."
Then, he left the injured Catalina on the ground, walking away with her dagger.
Catalina felt into her medicine pouch and weakly began to fix herself. She ripped off a piece of her skirt and placed it on the wound, wiping the blood away from the injury. She dug through her pouch and slowly pulling out a bottle of alcohol and uncorked it with her teeth. She poured it on the injury, hissing in pain, the alcohol draining her with the agonizingly slowness of which the burn dissipated. Then, she looked down at what the bandit had left on her skin. Of course, he spelled a jagged 'Ulric', a slash through the letters and the U curled around the rest of the letters. It infuriated and scared her.
There was no doubt it would scar. But right now, at the moment, she had to get back to her group. She threw her traveling cloak over the mark and bound her hand quickly and painfully. She trembled, and slowly stood up before turning the corner in which hid her attack. The group was clear in her vision. She walked forward, expression blank. She approached the group. Right now, she would have to get over the emotional and physical pain she was going through and do what she signed up for. Being the medicine woman. Catalina took a shaky breath and raised her voice.
"All injured need to see me immediately."
Then, she got out her pouch. Time to work.
