Deep within the stony hills,
Miles past keep or hold,
A troop of guards comes riding,
With a lady and her gold.
Riding near the center,
Shrouded in her cloak of fur,
Companioned by a maiden,
And a toothless, aged cur.
The lady fidgeted the gloves. They were slightly to small, but they covered the hands, and that was necessary. “This is really unfair, Li-Linnet. how come I-?”
The lady’s maid smiled at her employer. “Now, whatever are you talking about, milady Gouressa? You know that you *must* reach the city of Saillune as soon as possible. Though it is certainly too bad that we must pass through this area. I hear that bandits come through this area.”
The Lady stroked a wolfhound, seated beside her. It growled at the lady’s fingers. Its ice blue eyes were set in a deadly glare.
Three things see no end:
A flower blighted ere it bloomed,
A message that was wasted,
And a journey that is doomed.
“Li-Linnet!” The lady’s voice lowered. “You just like dressing me up like this.”
The lady was indeed marvelously dressed in a gown of finest blue silk, edged with silver. The lady’s thick golden hair was coiled into an elegant coiffure, set with several small diamond pins. Perched atop it was a fine blue hat with a long white feather that dangled in the lady’s face.
The maid smiled. “I pride myself on how fine milady looks.” She lowered her voice however, and hissed, “If you ruin this for us. . .”
One amongst the guardsmen,
Has a shifting, restless eye,
And as they ride, he scans the hills,
That rise against the sky.
He wears both sword and bracelet,
Worth more than he can afford,
And hidden in his baggage,
Is a heavy, secret hoard.
“Him,” the maid said to the lady in an undertone, then when the guard under scrutiny noticed her, she blushed. “He’s just to die for.”
The lady looked surprised but nodded. “If you say so, Li-Linnet.”
Of three things be wary:
Of a feather on a cat,
The shepherd eating mutton,
And the guardsman that is fat.
“Um, Li-Linnet, how do you know it’s him?” The lady asked nervously, continuing to fidget the gloves.
“Woman’s intuition, milady.” The maid seemed almost to be laughing.
From ambush bandits screaming,
Rush the pack-train and its prize,
And all but four within the train,
Are take by surprise.
All but four are cut down,
As a woodsman fells a log,
The guardsman and the lady,
The maiden and the dog.
“Look!” The maid said, pointing at several bandits riding towards the carriage in which she, the lady, and wolfhound rode. “I knew it!”
The wolfhound stood, glaring at the approaching bandits, mouth in a lupine grin.
The lady stared forward. “I see them, Lin-Linnet.”
Three things know a secret:
The lady riding in a dream,
The dog that barks no warning,
And the maid who does not scream.
The maid pulled the horses to a halt. “The guardsmen haven’t even noticed.”
The wolfhound nodded its head in the direction of the guard the maid had pointed out earlier. He was staring in the direction of the bandits, but had not called out.
“Knew it again!” the maid murmured.
Then off the lady pulls her cloak.
In armor she is clad.
Her sword is out and ready.
Her eyes are fierce and glad.
The maiden gestures briefly,
And the dog’s a cur no more,
Two men and the sorcerress,
Now face the bandit corps.
As the bandits rode closer, the maid murmured, “Wait, wait, now!”
The lady jumped out of the carriage, pulling a swordhilt out of the gown’s cleavage. The voice that spoke then was considerably deeper. “Light come forth!”
The wolfhound seemed to be clearing its throat.
“Oh, right,” said the maid. She made a swift gesture.
“Thanks awfully,” said the strange man who now stood beside her. He too jumped out of the carriage.
Three things never anger,
Or you will not live for long:
A wolf with cubs, a man with power,
And a woman’s sense of wrong.
The warrior pulled off the blue gown, and threw the feathered hat to the ground. “Won’t be needing this anymore, will I, Lina?”
The sorcerress shrugged. “You never know.”
The bandits growl a challenge,
But the lady only grins.
The sorcerress bows mockingly,
And then the fight begins.
When it ends, there are but four,
Left standing from that horde.
The witch, the wolf, the traitor,
And the lady with a sword.
The bandits laughed. “Look it’s a little girl!”
“That was stupid,” the onetime lady said.
“Fireball!” exclaimed the sorcerress.
Then the battle began, and not much was very clear for quite a while.
Three things never trust in:
The maiden sworn as pure,
The vows a king has given,
And the ambush that is sure.
The redhaired maiden laughed as she bound the only remaining bandit. The others were either dead or fled. She noticed that it was the traitor guardsman. She quickly checked him over for gold and placed all she found in her own pockets.
Her golden-haired companion looked down at him. “This is the man that merchant told us about, Lina? The one who kidnapped all those girls?”
“Yes,” Lina agreed.
The other warrior, a strange man with skin like stones and hair like wire, looked down at him. “Much as I hate sounding like Amelia, we ought to see to it that justice is done.”
The sorcerress smiled.
They strip the traitor naked,
And the whip him on his way,
Into the barren hillsides,
Like the folk he used to slay.
They take a thorough vengeance,
For the women he cut down,
And then they mount their horses,
And the journey back to town.
“Incredible,” the oddlooking man murmured. “I’ve never before seen such a complete illusion.”
The sorcerress looked pleased with herself. “Well, I AM a sorcery-genius.”
“He looks like me!” The blonde swordsman announced. “Like me when you had me all dressed up as a lady!”
“That’s the point, you imbecile!” the sorcerress told him. “Look. He killed all of those women. What do you think the surviving bandits will do when he goes back to them like this?”
The swordsman thought about it a while, then said. “But, Lina, that’s not very nice.”
“I know.”
Three things trust and cherish well:
The horse on which you ride,
The beast that guards and watches,
The companion at your side.
“Well,” Lina Inverse said, as she gathered the last of the gold. “I guess it’s on to Saillune! I know you’re looking forward to seeing Amelia, Zel.”
Zelgadis Greywords groaned.
Lina smiled. “Don’t make me tie you up again. Amelia hired me to bring you to her safely. . . and I’ll do it!”
Gourry looked blank, and finally sheathed his sword. “Um, Lina. . . the carriage’s broken.”
“That’s okay. We’ll walk.”
The three went off, leaving the bandit, now lady, tied to the broken carriage.
The End.
And this one is based on "Threes" also by the wonderful Mercedes Lackey.
