Project Empress 002

(Chapter 1 continued) 

The attacks almost overwhelmed Cara. The second she had not looked at her assailants, they had pushed forwards bringing their sticks down. ‘That’s not the first time they are doing this.’, a calm part that usually watched her while she was fighting, or in this case panicking, said. ‘The timing is too good, when I try that in the salle with the others we never work that much in unison.’ She let go of her backpack and jumped away from the attack. ‘But then, the one we are attacking is armed.’, her inner voice added, as the man jumped over her backpack and his friend swarmed around. She blocked the attack from her left, reaching out with her arm to block the arm and not the defence stick. That worked, but now that her back was exposed, the woman behind her hit her there. “Ouch.” ‘But that wasn’t so bad.’, Cara thought, turning, she had plenty of experience in stick-knife fights where they used short wooden sticks as “knife simulators”. What she had learned there was that no one from her club would ever enter a knife fight and come back in one piece and that being hit by a stick while painful wasn’t that bad.

That night she learned that it wasn’t that bad if it was one hit and as long your opponent retreated then; and asked if you were OK when it looked like they had actually hurt you. It was much worse if the people who attacked you didn’t give a fuck about you and didn’t stop hitting you over and over again. She could retreat but they just kept coming at her and even her secondary calm voice was now shocked into silence. As she moved back the woman to her right shouted, “Stop moving.”, shoving her hard. Cara lost her balance and fell. The woman to her right laughed, as Cara scrambled back on her hands and feet trying to get back up. The laughing woman stomped on her shin. 

Cara gasped. seeing stars for a moment.

“Well aren’t you a bunch of cunts…” a female voice said. The three stopped and turned around. There in the light of a streetlight stood a thin, tall woman, wearing some kind of retro union style. Heavy boots, bell-bottom jeans, some kind of longsleve with a loose crop top over it and a long tweed coat that went almost down to her ankles, that had several patches sown onto it, finger-less gloves and a choker with a blue and ring of stars emblem on it. Cara would have laughed, if she hadn’t been so wet and overwhelmed.   The new arrival was leaning on a journeyman staff that went about as high as her shoulder.

“Piss of.”, the man said. “This is none of your business.”

“Or,” added the laughing woman, “stay and wait until it’s your turn.” 

“Are you OK, down there?”, the stranger asked Cara.

“For now.”

The stranger, butting both her hands on one end of her journeyman staff, moved it in front of her lowering it, so that the point at the far end was pointing at the floor. Cara could see a metal cap glinting on the end of the staff as the strange woman carefully stepped over her bag lowering herself into a combat stance. 

‘She is going into Alber!’, Cara thought, recognising that her would be saviour was part of the martial art community and judging from that stance an adept of the Liechtenauer style. 

“Good.”, the stranger said smiling. “Now who of you idiots wants to go first?” 

“I said wait your turn.”, the woman to Cara’s right spat, jumping forward, defence stick raised high. The stranger, stepped into her line of attack, shuffled half a step, raising her stick so that her attacker ran belly first into the point of the stick. The stranger didn’t wait for the reaction, spinning towards the man in the middle the stick arcing up towards his face, which he blocked with defence stick. The stranger moved onto the street, the stick high above her head pointing up to the sky. Now she had the full attention of the three students and goaded them onto the street where she had more space. 

The three moved around her, circling here warily.

“Take your bag and run.”, the stranger said to Cara. “I’ll take it from here.”, she did not wait for Cara’s reaction, dashing forward with a strike from high above against the man, a smirk still on her lips. As the man jumped away from the stranger´s attack, she instantly shifted the force of her attack towards the woman to her right, with a long descending strike to her hands, taking care not to loose sight of the third attacker.

Cara scrambled back up to her feet, ran to her backpack, opened the long zipper, and grabbed hold of her training sword. An old, steel sword, that had been passed down from her grandfather to her, the blunt edge wavy with the dents of decades of combat. 

She got up, turned around and saw that the stranger was still dancing between the three students. The man was limping now and the ‘laughing’ woman who had stomped Cara´s leg was now holding her defence stick in her off hand, still shaking her other hand.

As they were all  focused on the stranger, Cara moved towards the group until she reached the other woman who had her back turned to her.

“Hey!” Cara said, her voice as firm as she could mange. “Stop fighting, or else…”

Everyone stopped moving, turning to face her. The ‘other’ woman smirked. “Or what?”

The stranger just shook her head but took advantage of the situation by jumping to her side where the ‘laughing’ woman stood, swinging her journeyman staff against her temple. The ‘laughing’ woman noticed it, pulled up her defence stick but it was to little to late, the impact of the staff bashing her own stick into her face.

The ‘smirking’ woman, looked Cara in the eye and said, “You are going to attack me with a steel sword? That’s a bit unsporting, isn’t it?”

“Under the circumstances I think it’s justified to hit you with the flat of the bla…”, Cara could not finish the sentence. The ‘smirking’ woman had jumped forward, using her defence stick to push Cara’s blade aside, grabbing the cross guard with the other and sending Cara flying. She rolled over the wet asphalt her sword clattering alongside her. No time for this. She took the energy of her motion to come back to a, slightly wobbly crouching position. The ‘smirking’ woman was coming for her. Making a “no” motion with her defence stick, when the stranger jumped out of the darkness behind her.

“Wrong enemy.”, the stranger said, whipping her staff onto the arms of the ‘smirking’ woman and using the rebound energy to smack her in the face, knocking her out cold.

“You aren’t very bright are you?”, the stranger said.

“I could not leave you alone. There were three against one. What kind of martial artist would run away from a fight when another one is still standing tall?, Cara asked. 

The stranger laughed. “So dumb, but you have a good heart kid.”

‘Kid?’, Cara thought, ‘She can’t be much older than I am…’. 

“My name is Natalie. But you can call me Nat. What’s yours?”

“My name is Cara.”, she hesitated for a moment, then fell to one knee adding, “But can I call you master?”

“er… what?”, Nat said. “Is that some kind of kinky thing, no shame, but…”

Cara had grabbed hold, of her sword and was now presenting it to Nat with both her hands. 

“I see that you are a true master of the martial world and that you walk the Liechtenauer path. Please teach me your skills.”, Cara said. “Master.” , she added quickly.

“I’m not a master of anything,” Nat said. “Let’s gather your things and maybe leave the scene before the city guard appears.”

“Yes, master.” Cara beamed.

“I’m not a master.”, Nat said.

“But you just saved me and fought and won against three!”

“Those idiots hardly count. They are just the typical run of the mill street thugs.”, she looked at them. “Students?”, she shrugged. “No matter what clothes you put on them, arseholes will always be arseholes…”

“But I couldn’t do anything against even them!”

Nat looked at Cara arching an eyebrow. “Yeah your art is pretty week Cara.”

“See? That’s why I need you as my master. Teach me.”

“Is that an order?”, Nat asked.

“Yes!”

“Well I can show you a couple of moves… but you have to buy me dinner first.”

“Deal!” Cara beamed.