Her eyes flashed from inside the shadows of the carriage. Fear struck her heart as she watched the guards make their march on foot by her side. She could see that this was more than a mere duty for them, this treaty. This was as important to their lives as it was to hers. They all needed the peace between their land and Kells.
Nervous did not describe the way she felt. Troubles from Rheged had nearly delayed them from coming this way. The other kingdom was ready to attack them, to kill them. Now they were so close to Temra....
Her best friend, Maellora, rode beside the carriage on an aging stallion. It always amazed the woman of the way the gods had blessed the rider with such peculiar looks. Her hair may have been black, but so streaked with silver--reflective silver--that it was often over looked. Odder still was the single shock of purple that was usually a braid falling over her left eye. The sun shone off the combed, satin curls as she raised her hand to protect her eyes. Again, an odd trait.
They were a deep purple to begin with, a colour not often thought of with eyes. Around the edge of her iris, close to the retina, was a thin blue rim. And then, around the pupil, another ring of color....Only this one would change with her mood.
Presently, it looked to be a light brown, which meant caution or anticipation...But if the woman knew anything of her friend, it was the latter. She was so unlike the image that her bone structure painted--fragile, petite, docile, and sweet...
This was not what the young woman noted for. She hated dresses of nobility. There was nothing wrong with common place clothing. And she hated riding side-saddle, something she had to do to keep the sea-green dress (not her most becoming color) from being ruined or torn....Underneath, you could plainly see a knight's uniform. And as they came closer to the edge of Temra, you could see the flare for battle fill her eyes and the itch to tear the dress from her body.
The horse turned to the left, to the place where the carriage rolled, "Are you ready, Tara?" Maellora's voice was kind. Tara frowned, picking at the dress Maellora had chosen for her. A low rumble of thunder made itself be known, making the purple eyes turn to the sky and inspect the gathering clouds.
"No, I would feel much better if--" Maellora shook her head, sighing and closing her eyes.
"My friend, we have been over this. I must be out here, even if it would make you less jumpy. Temrans are not the nicest of people, and we are going to make peace with Kells, their enemy. You must be in there. Sword play is not your specialty." Tara's blue eyes widened.
"Swords? Maellora, y-y-you aren't serious, are you? I have never seen you fight any one with a sword...and these are trained soldiers. Men! They could tear you to shreds before you had a chance to unsheathe yours!" The raven haired girl waved her hand.
"I think I can handle myself...Now, are you ready to ride, Princess??" Maellora stressed the word, raising her eyebrow. Tara looked into the eyes of her friend, seeing undisguised excitement, and groaned.
"I really wish that you--" Maellora laughed.
"Things must--" The guards began shouting. The rider snapped her head to the road, seeing a man astride a much darker horse, a horned helmet on his head and a beard over his chin. Maellora let out a disgusted moan.
The captain of the Imeralian soldiers walked closer to the men, "We mean no harm, sir. We only--" His words were cut off by a quick slice through the gut. Tara winced as Maellora calmly dismounted, slicing her dress down the front, to reveal the knight's tunic of dark turquoise and orchid over chainmail, and facing the small group of her kinsmen.
"Gentleman, we attack."
